#let's focus on derek's arm

[letciatxs]

he's so tiny i love him so much 😪😪

[mariasont]

can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??

Marked Territory - A.H

A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet

THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

wk: 1.2k

pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader

warnings: heavy makeout, jealously

You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.

"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."

You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."

Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"

You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."

A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."

You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.

You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.

The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.

You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.

"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"

The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.

"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.

With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist. 

"Honey--I, we're in the office."

His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."

An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"

Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.

With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.

A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive.  Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."

Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."

His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."

Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.

"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."

"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."

A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."

Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug. 

"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

[gf2bellamy]

undercover — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you and spencer have to go undercover content warnings: unsub watching spencer and reader, reader wearing a dress, both being awkward, unsub being led into a trap a/n: i had the best time writing this not gonna lie

The air in the police station’s conference room was heavy, a tense silence hanging over the team as Hotch stood at the front, detailing the latest developments in the case.

You leaned slightly against the table, arms crossed, standing next to Emily as you absorbed the information.

The unsub was targeting young couples, choosing his victims with chilling precision based on their public displays of affection and perceived happiness.

His next target location was an exclusive charity donation event scheduled for the following evening.

Hotch’s voice was steady, cutting through the quiet. “The unsub has a pattern, and this event fits perfectly within his hunting ground. If he’s already selected his next victims, this could be our only chance to intercept him before he strikes again.” 

You shifted your weight, glancing across the table where Spencer stood, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hair fell into his face as he studied the board filled with crime scene photos and case notes, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides, the way they always did when his mind was racing. 

For a moment, you let yourself look at him, caught in the soft focus of his profile—the way his lips pressed together in thought, the faint crease between his eyebrows.

You could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, each piece of information clicking into place like a puzzle. 

Then you blinked, snapping yourself out of it. Now wasn’t the time to let your mind wander. 

“...which means we need to go undercover,” Hotch’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling your attention back to the room.  

Hotch continued, his tone all business. “This event is high-profile and heavily monitored, so we’ll need to blend in seamlessly. A couple attending as guests will have the best chance of moving through the crowd unnoticed while keeping an eye out for the unsub.” 

The room went still, everyone waiting for the inevitable. 

“I want you to be one to go undercover,” Hotch said, his steady gaze locking on you. 

You blinked, slightly taken aback, but you didn’t dare argue. You nodded quickly, your heart skipping a beat. Saying no to Hotch wasn’t just unlikely—it was practically impossible. 

But then came the twist that you hadn’t been prepared for. 

“And you can choose who you’d like to go undercover with,” Hotch added, his tone calm but leaving no room for hesitation. 

Your mouth fell open slightly, and for a moment, you were sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. “I—wait, I get to choose?” 

Hotch raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of patience and expectation. 

The entire team’s eyes were on you now, the tension in the room suddenly palpable. You could hear Emily suppressing a laugh next to you, her amusement barely contained as she leaned closer, her shoulder brushing yours. 

“Oh, uh…” you stammered, glancing around the room. Your eyes darted from one teammate to another—Derek was smirking, clearly enjoying your discomfort, and JJ gave you an encouraging nod, her lips twitching as if to say good luck. 

The pressure was mounting. Your pulse quickened as you looked back at Hotch, who was still waiting, his expression unreadable. Finally, your gaze landed on Spencer. 

“I’ll… I’ll go with Spence,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Spencer’s head snapped up, his wide eyes meeting yours as if he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. 

Derek let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “Good choice,” he said under his breath, exchanging a knowing look with Emily, who was now biting her lip to keep from laughing outright. 

Hotch gave a small nod, mercifully breaking the silence. “Good. I suggest you two get ready and run through the details before tomorrow.” 

You nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat under the weight of everyone’s attention. As the meeting broke up and the team began to gather their things, you avoided eye contact with anyone, hoping to avoid further teasing. 

Spencer, meanwhile, seemed to have frozen in place, still processing the situation. When he finally moved, he adjusted his satchel nervously and approached you, his hands tucked into his pockets. 

“Um,” he started, his voice soft, “you—you’re okay with this, right? I mean, if you’re not, I can talk to Hotch and—” 

“Spence,” you interrupted gently, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Really.” 

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but his expression was still uncertain. “Okay. Just… let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it less awkward.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re not the one making it awkward,” you teased, though your stomach still fluttered at the thought of spending an evening pretending to be Spencer Reid’s significant other. 

The next afternoon, as you stood in your room going through the checklist of what you needed for the evening, there was a knock at the door. You frowned, glancing at the clock—you still had two hours before the event. 

When you opened the door, Emily stood there, her usual sly smile in place, holding something draped over her arm. 

“Something wrong?” you asked, your brow furrowing. 

“Nope,” she said simply, brushing past you into the room like she owned the place. She flopped onto your bed with casual ease, holding up the item she was carrying. 

“What’s that?” you asked warily, already sensing trouble. 

“Your dress,” Emily said with a grin, letting the fabric unfold dramatically. 

“My what?” Your jaw dropped as you took in the garment. It was stunning—and way too fancy. The kind of dress that belonged at a high-end gala or an awards show, not in your usual wardrobe rotation. 

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” you stammered, shaking your head furiously. “I’m not wearing that.” 

Emily leaned back against the headboard, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yes, you are.” 

“I can’t wear that! It’s—it’s too much!” you protested, gesturing wildly at the dress. “I’ll trip, or spill something, or…” You trailed off, your words faltering as you realized she wasn’t going to back down. 

“Too bad,” Emily said with a chuckle. “Hotch approved it. And trust me, it’s perfect for tonight. Besides, Spencer’s wearing a suit, so…” 

Your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you glared at her. “I don’t see how Spencer’s suit has anything to do with me wearing that,” you said, your voice bordering on a whine. 

“Oh, come on,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “You’re supposed to be undercover as a couple, remember? Couples match.” She raised an eyebrow, daring you to argue further. 

You opened your mouth to protest again but stopped yourself, knowing deep down she was right.

Still, the thought of walking into that event in a dress like this, with Spencer Reid as your “date,” made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with nerves about the case. 

Emily seemed to sense your hesitation. Her teasing demeanor softened slightly as she added, “Hey, you’ll look amazing. Trust me.” 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you eyed the dress again. It was beautiful, you had to admit. But it was also intimidating. 

“Fine,” you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I’ll wear it. But if I end up falling on my face, it’s on you.” 

Emily grinned triumphantly, standing up and patting your shoulder. “You won’t regret it,” she said, heading toward the door. “And I bet Spencer’s reaction will be priceless.” 

You groaned, already regretting agreeing to this. But as you glanced back at the dress, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder what Spencer would think when he saw you in it. 

Two hours later, you stood frozen in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. The dress Emily had brought fit you perfectly, hugging and flowing in all the right places, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach. 

You’d gone out with the BAU team countless times, but this felt different. This wasn’t casual drinks at the bar or a quick lunch between cases—this was undercover, high-stakes, and highly formal.

And the idea of stepping out dressed like this in front of them, in front of him, felt strangely daunting. 

A knock at the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You sighed, assuming it was Emily coming back to check on you. 

With a deep breath, you opened the door—only to freeze when you found Spencer standing there instead. 

Your breath caught slightly as you took him in. He was wearing a suit that fit him just right, tailored to highlight his tall, lean frame, and his tie was neatly knotted, adding a touch of elegance. 

Spencer, however, seemed equally stunned. His eyes widened as he looked you up and down, his lips parting slightly in awe. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and you began to fidget nervously. 

“Hi,” you said softly, breaking the silence. 

Spencer blinked rapidly, finally meeting your eyes again. “Uh, hi,” he managed, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “We should probably… head out now.” 

“Right,” you said, grabbing your purse. 

Just as you turned to close the door, he added, “You look nice.” 

You paused, turning back to him with a smile. “Thank you. So do you.” 

Spencer’s face turned a faint shade of pink, and in his mind, he was kicking himself. Nice? That’s all he can say? You don’t just look nice; you look incredible—stunning. 

But the words stayed trapped in his throat, his nerves getting the better of him. 

Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but glance at him again as you stepped into the hallway. The way his suit highlighted his frame, the way his hair was perfectly styled—he looked far better than just nice, too. 

As the two of you walked side by side toward the elevator, the proximity of his tall stature made you feel both comforted and acutely aware of every step you took.

Neither of you said much as you headed to the car waiting to take you to the event.

Still, as Spencer held the door open for you and you slid into the seat beside him, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this undercover mission wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

The driver started the car, and the low hum of the engine filled the silence as the two of you settled into the plush leather seats.

Emily had warned you that this would be a high-profile event—fancy clothes, fancy venue, and, of course, a fancy car complete with a driver. 

The quiet between you and Spencer felt heavier than usual, the kind of silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

Maybe it was the formal attire, the pressure of the mission, or the simple fact that both of you were hiding feelings you thought the other didn’t share. 

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was staring out the window, his fingers fiddling absently with the hem of his jacket. His profile was illuminated by the streetlights flashing by, and you could see the faint tension in his jaw. 

“Spencer,” you said softly, turning slightly in your seat to face him. 

He blinked, pulling his attention away from the passing scenery. “Hmm?” His tone was distracted, almost distant. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. 

His eyes flickered down to your hand, then back to your face, and for a second, he seemed caught off guard. “Oh—yeah,” he said quickly, offering you a small, somewhat unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.” 

You raised an eyebrow, not entirely buying his answer. “About the case?” 

Spencer hesitated, then shook his head. “Not really.” 

“Then what?” you pressed gently, your hand still resting on his arm. 

He hesitated again, his fingers brushing over the lapel of his suit jacket as if the action might steady him. “It’s just… different. You know, being undercover like this. Pretending to be…” He trailed off, his gaze darting away as though he couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Pretending to be a couple?” you finished for him, your voice quieter now. 

His eyes met yours again, and there was a flicker of something unspoken in them—something vulnerable.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and you offered him a small, reassuring smile. 

“Spencer,” you said softly, “it’s just for the case. We’ve got this, okay?” 

He nodded, but there was a shadow of uncertainty in his expression.

As the car came to a stop in front of the event venue, you turned to Spencer with a soft smile. The elegant building loomed ahead, lights sparkling in the cool night air.

“You ready?” you asked, your voice gentle but steady. 

Spencer blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah. You?” His lips curled into a small smile, though there was an underlying tension in his posture. 

You nodded, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in your own stomach. “Let’s do this.” 

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the door handle, then took a deep breath. With a nod to himself, he opened the door and stepped out of the car.

Spencer muttered something to himself under his breath, his brow furrowed as if reminding himself that it would all be okay—that this was just part of the job.

When he reached your side, he opened the door. His eyes met yours for a brief moment before he extended his hand. 

You hesitated for only a second, your heart skipping a beat as you noticed the slight tremble in his fingers.

His hand felt solid in yours and gentle. His fingers curled around yours, not too tight, not too loose.

The touch felt natural, familiar even, but still unfamiliar enough to make your pulse quicken. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, your eyes lifting to meet his.

His smile was small but real, and as you stepped out of the car, you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe for once, you were doing this together—not as agents on a case, but as something more. 

Just as you and Spencer were about to head inside, the ear pieces crackled to life, and Hotch’s voice came through, sharp and clear. 

“You two alright?” His tone was calm, but you could hear the underlying concern.

It was clear the team was likely watching you both, observing every move you made from their monitors, making sure everything was on track. 

You glanced at Spencer, who gave you a small nod, then answered into your earpiece.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady. 

At the exact same moment, Spencer spoke too. “Yes.” 

There was a brief pause, as if Hotch was evaluating your responses, then he replied, “Good. Be careful.” 

The static of the earpiece buzzed for a moment before going silent again. 

You felt a rush of nerves flood through you, the team’s eyes were on you—on both of you.

Spencer straightened up, adjusting his suit jacket, his hand still loosely holding yours. “Let’s do this,” he said softly, his gaze steady but warm. 

You smiled at him, the nerves dissipating slightly as you saw his calm resolve.  

You and Spencer made your way to a tall cocktail table near the edge of the room, its position giving you a good vantage point of the entrance and most of the main floor.

The soft hum of polite conversation and the clinking of glasses filled the air. You scanned the crowd, noting the guests chatting in small groups.

Everything felt so natural—except for you. 

Spencer stood next to you, his posture stiff, his eyes darting between the entrance and the nearby groups of people.

His hands fidgeted slightly with the cuffs of his jacket, a sign that he was just as nervous as you were. 

The sudden crackle of your earpiece broke your focus, followed by Derek’s unmistakably teasing voice. 

“Hey, lovebirds,” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “You might wanna tone up the romance a bit. You’re looking more like coworkers on a coffee break than a couple in love.” 

Your eyes widened, and you glanced at Spencer, who immediately stiffened, his face flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Derek,” Spencer muttered under his breath. 

You could practically hear Derek grinning as he continued. “What? I’m just saying. Hold hands, whisper sweet nothings, maybe throw in a little eye-gazing. You know, sell it.” 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Spencer, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. 

Then, Hotch’s voice cut through the chatter in your earpiece, sharp and stern. “Morgan.” 

For a moment, you thought that was the end of it, but then Hotch added, begrudgingly, “He’s not wrong.” 

Your cheeks flushed, and Spencer’s jaw dropped slightly, his wide eyes meeting yours in a mixture of disbelief and panic. 

“Well,” you whispered, leaning in closer so only Spencer could hear, “it looks like we have our orders.” 

Spencer’s lips parted, but no words came out. He hesitated, then cleared his throat, finally managing to say, “Uh… right. Okay. How do we… um…” 

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “How about this?” Without waiting for him to overthink it, you slipped your hand into his, interlacing your fingers with his. 

His hand tensed for a split second before it relaxed, his palm warm against yours. His eyes flicked down to your joined hands, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to process the moment. 

“Relax,” you said softly, giving his hand a light squeeze. “We’re just… blending in.” 

Spencer nodded, though his face was still tinged with a deep red. “Blending in,” he repeated, his voice a little shaky. 

You smiled, stepping just a bit closer to him to complete the act. From the corner of your eye, you could see some of the guests glancing your way, but none seemed suspicious.

To anyone watching, you and Spencer looked like just another couple enjoying the event. 

The comms crackled again, and Derek’s voice returned. “Much better. Look at you two, all adorable and undercover. Proud of you, Pretty Boy.” 

Spencer groaned quietly, and you had to bite back a laugh.

You hesitated for a moment.Then, with a deep breath, you reached up and placed your other hand gently on Spencer’s chest.

The soft fabric of his suit was warm under your palm, and you could feel the faint, rapid rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. 

Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His eyes dropped to your hand, wide with surprise, before slowly lifting to meet your gaze. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. 

“We’ve got to sell it, don’t we?” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him.

Your eyes searched his, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. 

Spencer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “Right,” he murmured, his voice soft and unsteady. “Sell it.” 

His gaze flickered to your hand again, and then, as if summoning some inner courage, he placed his own hand gently on top of yours. His fingers were tentative, almost hesitant, but the gesture was enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

You both stood there for a moment, the hum of the event around you fading into the background. To anyone else, you might have looked like a perfectly content couple lost in their own world.

“You’re, uh… good at this,” Spencer said awkwardly, breaking the silence. 

A small laugh escaped you, and you glanced down, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Thanks, I guess.” You tilted your head back up, meeting his gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Spencer’s lips quirked into a small, nervous smile, and for a moment, the tension between you eased. Then, the comms crackled again. 

“Looking cozy there,” came Derek’s teasing voice, his amusement practically dripping through the earpiece. “Careful, or you might forget this is a mission.” 

You rolled your eyes, and Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his ears turning pink. 

“Focus, Morgan,” Hotch’s firm voice cut in, but there was a faint edge of exasperation that made you think even he was mildly entertained. 

You sighed, dropping your voice low enough so only Spencer could hear. “Looks like we’re the entertainment for the night.” 

Suddenly, Emily’s voice came through the comms, low and urgent. “I think he’s here. Northwest corner by the bar.” 

Your breath caught, and you instinctively turned your gaze to Spencer. His wide eyes met yours, and for a moment.

Pretending to be casually scanning the room, you let your eyes sweep over the crowd, focusing on the bar area.

And then you saw him. 

A tall man in his mid-30s, dressed in a sharp but slightly ill-fitting suit. His movements were stiff, his posture too rigid. He didn’t blend in with the carefree elegance of the other guests.

Most telling of all was the way his eyes darted around the room, pausing on young couples with a gaze that lingered just a moment too long. 

“That’s him,” you murmured under your breath, your tone even. 

“I see him,” Spencer said softly, tilting his head slightly to mask his words as he leaned toward you. His hand remained on yours, grounding yet trembling slightly.

“Now get his attention,” Hotch ordered through the comms, his tone clipped and commanding. 

Your stomach tightened as you exchanged a glance with Spencer.

Spencer’s eyes darted around, betraying his unease, his fingers twitching slightly against yours. 

Keeping the act up was paramount, you reminded yourself, even as your pulse quickened. You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself for what came next. 

Breaking the contact between your hands, you reached up, your fingers brushing against Spencer’s cheek as you gently cupped his face and guided his gaze to meet yours. His wide, startled eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, he seemed to forget how to breathe. 

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice low, a contrast to the chaos brewing inside you. 

Spencer blinked, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His gaze flickered briefly down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his breath hitching audibly.

“I—uh—hi,” he stammered, his voice barely audible, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. 

You smiled softly, leaning in just enough to close some of the space between you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the unsub pausing, his gaze shifting in your direction. 

“He’s looking,” you murmured under your breath, keeping your focus on Spencer. 

Spencer’s hand instinctively found your waist, his grip firm but hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure where to place his hands. “You’re really good at this,” he whispered, his tone a mixture of awe and anxiety. 

“So are you,” you replied, your lips curving into a soft smile. Your thumb brushed a faint circle against Spencer’s cheek, a tender gesture meant to sell the act—but it lingered just a moment longer than necessary. 

Spencer’s eyes darted toward the unsub.His gaze locked with the man’s for a fraction of a second before Spencer quickly looked away.

You dropped your hand from Spencer’s face, but his grip on your waist didn’t falter. If anything, it tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress.

“Don’t react,” Spencer murmured, his breath warm against your temple as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“React to what?” you whispered back, keeping your voice light as though teasing him. 

“The fact that he’s practically on top of us,” Spencer muttered, his tone edged with unease. 

You shifted your gaze subtly, catching sight of the unsub. He was now at a table barely a foot away, his posture casual but his eyes keenly observing you and Spencer.

He was close enough that you could see the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the tension in his clenched jaw betraying his outwardly calm demeanor. 

“He’s closing in,” Emily’s voice came through, sharp and clear. “You need to keep moving—draw him out.” 

Spencer straightened, his arm sliding fully around your waist as he guided you toward the edge of the dance floor.

“Let’s get some air,” he said aloud, his voice warm and affectionate. 

You nodded, leaning into him as if his suggestion had been entirely spontaneous. “Good idea,” you replied, glancing up at him with a soft smile. 

As you weaved through the crowd, you could feel the unsub’s eyes boring into your back.

A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it—he was following, like a predator stalking its prey. 

Spencer’s hand slipped from your waist to intertwine with yours, his fingers squeezing gently as he led you toward the exit.

The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, the noise from the party muffled behind the glass doors. 

Spencer’s hand remained steady in yours, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin.

Hotch’s voice crackled softly in your earpiece. “Lead him to the alley on the left. The team is in position.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly even though Hotch couldn’t see you. Spencer must have felt the slight tremble in your grip because he glanced at you, his hazel eyes soft with reassurance. 

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, his voice barely audible as he leaned toward you. 

The cool night air was thick with tension as the sound of footsteps echoed behind you.

The unsub wasn’t trying to hide his presence anymore, his pace remaining just slow enough to keep you on edge. 

The path curved, and the dim lighting gave way to shadows as the alley came into view. Spencer’s hand tightened slightly around yours.

“You okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned closer. 

You nodded quickly, your voice low but firm. “I’m fine.” 

As you approached the alley, you could feel the unsub closing the distance. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, the weight of his gaze heavy against your skin. 

Hotch’s voice came through again. “Almost there. Keep moving.” 

Spencer cast a quick glance at you.“Just a little further,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

When you stepped into the alley, the atmosphere shifted, the noise from the party fading entirely. The unsub’s footsteps grew louder, the sound reverberating off the brick walls around you. 

Spencer stopped suddenly, his hand slipping from yours as he turned to face the unsub, his body shielding you instinctively. 

The unsub slowed his steps, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You two make quite the couple,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. 

The unsub’s smile widened as he took another step forward, but before he could make another move, the alley exploded with motion. 

“FBI! Don’t move!” 

Agents swarmed in from both ends of the alley, their guns trained on the unsub as he froze, his smirk fading into a scowl.

Spencer reached back, his hand brushing yours briefly in reassurance before stepping forward to join the agents, his sharp eyes locked on the unsub as the man was cuffed and restrained. 

Your heart was still racing, but as Spencer turned back to you, his expression softened, a small, relieved smile breaking through the tension. 

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he stepped closer, his hand finding yours again. 

You nodded, your grip tightening on his. “Yeah.” 

A couple hours, you were back in your warm ( and safe ) room.

The soft hum of the bathroom fan was the only sound as you stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth.

Your reflection stared back at you, but your mind was miles away, replaying the events of the evening on an endless loop. 

The way Spencer’s hand had lingered on your waist. The gentle squeeze of his fingers intertwined with yours. The warmth in his gaze every time he looked at you. 

You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth, leaning forward to splash cool water on your face. It did little to calm the flush in your cheeks or the quickened pace of your heart.

You sighed, gripping the edge of the sink and closing your eyes. 

Get a grip, you thought, shaking your head at yourself. But the feeling of his touch seemed to linger on your skin, impossible to shake.

It wasn’t the first time you’d felt this way about Spencer, but tonight had brought those emotions to the surface in a way that felt almost unbearable. 

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, making you glance up sharply. You weren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, you considered ignoring it.

But the knock came again, more hesitant this time. 

You grabbed a towel to dry your face and padded toward the door, your heart racing as you opened it. 

"Hi," Spencer said softly, shifting on his feet as he stood just outside the door. 

"Hi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, feeling a little more awake now that he was standing there.

A strange feeling washed over you as you took in the way he looked at you, the softness in his eyes. 

"I just wanted to check up on you," he said, his smile a little shy, his fingers fidgeting nervously at his sides. "You know, after tonight…" 

You couldn’t help but smile at his hesitation, the quiet vulnerability that he always seemed to wear so openly.

You liked that about him.

You liked the fact that, despite his brilliance, he still got nervous around you, still felt this awkwardness that was so endearing. 

"I’m okay," you said, brushing a hand through your hair, trying to reassure him.

"Are you?" you asked, your voice gentle.

You glanced back at his fidgeting hands. Slowly, you reached for his hands, stopping the fidgeting that seemed to take over whenever he was unsure.

He stared down at your intertwined fingers, his expression softening. 

"I'm okay," he said.His voice was a little quieter, and he seemed to be lost in the sensation of your hands together.

You both stood there in silence for a beat, your pulse quickening, suddenly aware of how close he was. 

You glanced down at your hands, feeling a flutter in your chest. But there was still that nagging sense of awkwardness creeping in.

As if sensing your shyness, Spencer didn’t let go. Instead, his grip tightened ever so slightly.

He didn’t let you pull away, his fingers curling more firmly around yours, his thumb brushing across your hand in small, soothing movements. 

"I’ll let you sleep," he said, his voice quiet, observing how sleepy you looked.

His eyes softened even more, and a small, gentle smile appeared on his lips as he looked at your tired face. "It’s been a long night." 

You chuckled softly, nodding, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening press against your shoulders. "Yeah, it has," you agreed, the exhaustion creeping up on you in waves. 

You finally let go of his hand.

Spencer stood there, taking in the sight of you—your sleepy eyes, the soft curve of your lips, the way your pajamas looked so different from the strong, confident agent he’d worked beside all day.

He smiled, a small, tender curve of his lips that made your heart skip. “Good night,” he said, his voice almost a whisper as he turned, clearly about to leave. 

But before he could take another step, you felt a rush of confidence in you. Without thinking, you stepped closer to him, hesitating only for a moment before standing on your tiptoes.

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your lips. You pulled back just as quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Good night, Spence,” you said softly, the words almost as fragile as the moment. 

He froze, blinking in surprise as he touched his cheek where your lips had just been. For a second, neither of you moved, both of you caught in the tension of the kiss.

Spencer looked at you, eyes wide but soft, lips parted as if he didn’t quite know what to say. 

Then, he smiled—genuinely. “Good night,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and you could see the way he wanted to stay, the way he didn’t want to leave.

But he didn’t say anything more. 

With a final glance, he stepped back, turning slowly to leave.

You watched him go, your heart still racing, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he felt the same spark you did.

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on Sonic 3!

On December 10th, 2018, I was on the last day of a trip to Milwaukee. The night before, I'd attended the wedding of one of my best friends, Jake, who I've known since high school. Even though half of us were sick the whole trip, it was a great time. Derek had asked the wedding DJ to play "One Week" as the first request of the night, and proceeded to lip sync the entire song on the dance floor. On that cold winter morning in a hotel room hundreds of miles from home, Derek and I groggily checked Twitter on our phones and saw the shocking news: Paramount had teased the design for Sonic from their upcoming live action film. Even in silhouette, the shape of his face and the realistic curvature of his limbs made him look like a grotesque little homunculus. This movie was going to suck.

Six years later, I've now seen the third entry in what's become a hugely successful Sonic film franchise. It features Keanu Reeves as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog in a fairly faithful adaptation of his story from Sonic Adventure 2. At the time of writing, it currently sits at a whopping 86% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, vying for the title of the best-reviewed theatrically released video game movie of all time. Critics are saying nice things about the emotional journey of Shadow the Hedgehog. Never in a million years did I think I'd see this day.

I, too, have now seen this movie, and... yeah, it's pretty good.

I'm gonna get deep into spoilers here, so I'll just say up front that I liked the movie. It feels like just about the best possible execution of this version of Sonic. But that's also damning it with faint praise, depending on who you ask.

If you're a fan of the games who didn't like the second movie, you probably won't get much out of this one, either, unless you just really love Shadow so much that nothing else in the movie matters to you. It doesn't reinvent the wheel for this film series. It's still got a heaping helping of broad comedy, cheap pop culture references, bad one-liners, and characterization that diverges greatly from the source material. This is not high art, nor is it a direct adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. If you're the kind of person who hates this portrayal of Sonic and Eggman, or a lore nerd who'll hate that they let Shadow do Chaos Control without an Emerald, then just don't bother with this.

On the other hand, if you did enjoy the last movie, then you'll probably have a fun time here, too. Shadow is very cool. The action is the best it's ever been. There's a bit more focus on characters from the games, and less on human characters invented for the movies—with the exception of Agent Stone, who's in this a lot because everyone likes him. There's a lot of SA2 fanservice. They even play "Live and Learn." It's a fun time! Be sure to stick around through the end credits.

And now, to dig deeper, let's get into the spoilers! I'm gonna jump around a lot and talk about different aspects of the movie, spoiling everything along the way.

Shadow and his reams of lore

Here's the main thing you came for: Shadow is great in this! They really did him justice. Keanu Reeves is extremely solid in the role. He can be a bit flat as an actor sometimes, but I think he did well here. He can be tough and menacing, but he can also be earnest and emotionally vulnerable. Good casting call. Excited at the prospect of seeing more of him in the future.

Really, as a Sonic Lore Nerd I'm most interested in discussing the changes they made to Shadow's backstory. I'm sure there will be many fans upset with the changes, but for the sake of streamlining a complicated backstory that was subject to a bunch of retcons and multiple layers of amnesia and fitting it into a 110-minute movie, I think they generally made smart choices.

For one, Gerald didn't create Shadow using Black Arms DNA, because Gerald didn't create Shadow at all! Instead, Shadow arrived on Earth inside a meteor, and Gerald was merely the prominent GUN scientist who studied him after he was captured. (That meteor does have very strong Black Arms vibes, though, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them exploring that stuff in the future.) This simplifies things a lot and allows Shadow to be a direct foil for Sonic, kind of a version of our hero who was treated as a lab rat and lost the only human he considered family instead of finding happiness like Sonic has. Then later Shadow hurts Tom and Sonic wants revenge, and it mirrors Shadow's feelings about Maria, and after they fight they can empathize with each other over this, Shadow sees the error of his ways and helps save the world, yada yada yada. You get it. People predicted 95% of this movie's plot from the trailers, but it's effective.

Likewise, all of the stuff about creating Shadow as the ultimate life form who's immune to all disease to cure Maria's illness is completely cut out. Shadow's still called the ultimate life form, but he's treated as more of an energy source than a genetic research project here, playing off of the stuff about Eggman wanting to harness Sonic's natural Chaos Energy in the movies. The original intent behind the ultimate life form project was always hard to explain in the games and doesn't even come up that much, so I don't blame them for cutting it.

Because Gerald isn't doing genetic experiments and creating artificial life, the Biolizard also doesn't exist. It does, however, appear in an old monster movie Shadow and Maria watch in a montage, with Shadow later commenting that he worries he's a monster like the one he saw in the movie. That's a clever way to include it, I think.

The ARK sort of exists. There was no space colony back in the '70s, all of the events of Shadow's flashbacks just took place at a secret GUN base on Earth. Fair enough for a version of the story ostensibly set in the real world. The big space laser in the third act of the film is obviously supposed to evoke the ARK, but it's referred to as simply the Eclipse Cannon. It's still not a full-blown space colony, just a weapon of mass destruction Gerald designed for GUN in exchange for his release (while also secretly planning to use it to blow up the planet in an act of revenge). I am, however, pleased to report that the Eclipse Cannon still has a giant Eggman face on it.

And as for Maria: I like her in this! She's obviously not going to get a ton of screentime, and she's always going to be a very straightforward character, but she's more playful and lively here. She teases Shadow for being grumpy and plays with him a lot. She feels less like this perfect embodiment of everything good and pure in the world and more like an actual kid. She's still not a complex character, but it works.

And the most important question: do they show a child getting shot and killed by the military? The answer is almost. In the flashback, GUN soldiers chase Maria, Shadow, and Gerald and ready their guns, but the young Commander Walters (who's in his 20s rather than being a kid) grabs them and tries to stop them from firing on a child. In the chaos, a soldier fires, missing Maria but hitting a generator that then blows up and kills Maria. So, y'know, close enough I suppose.

So, yes, many of the details change here, but they captured the gist of Shadow's story from SA2. The emotional core is there. I will say, though, I almost feel like Shadow isn't in this movie as much as I thought he'd be? I think he's used effectively in all of his scenes, and they make room for his backstory, and BOY does he get to kick ass in his fights, but for much of the middle part of the movie he's overshadowed by Ivo and Gerald. Though this might be a compromise to leave more screentime for...

Tails and Knuckles

I'm relieved to report that Tails and Knuckles both get a good amount of cool stuff to do in this! They don't feel like an afterthought.

I was worried that Tails in particular would completely fall by the wayside, since even his debut movie didn't entirely know what to do with him. But he's good here. He pretty much just feels like the Tails from the games at this point, especially since they dropped that fawning admiration he had for Sonic with that running gag of him going "Only Sonic the Hedgehog could do that!" He often chimes in as the one who wants Team Sonic to stick together when Sonic and Knuckles bicker. He particularly gets to shine in the Mission Impossible-inspired heist sequence at the GUN headquarters in London that serves as the climax of the second act, which feels like it was tailor made to let him shine as the tech guy of the team. He also gets several opportunities to swoop in and catch someone for a save in an action scene. He's good in this!

Knuckles is... fine. He's definitely fallen into the role of the comic relief dumb bruiser since joining the good guys, but he's at least a little better than he was in his own streaming show. The jokes lean more into him just being really brash about his strength and skill, rather than him being this archaic warrior who doesn't understand anything about the modern world. He also gets a few more serious bits in the back third of the movie where he gets to shine a little more, so overall it evens out to him being fine. They could've done way worse.

As for the relevance of the Knuckles show: Knuckles is now said to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, like in the games, though with no Angel Island this amounts to him hiding it somewhere for safekeeping. It's eventually revealed that he just gave it to Wade, who gets exactly one scene (sorry, Wade-heads) for a joke about him using the Master Emerald as a hockey puck. So, the miniseries explained why Knuckles has a connection with Wade. That's it! Also I think Knuckles might use the Flames of Disaster a bit in fights, but they never called the technique out by name, so I never really thought about it. So, yeah, the six-episode streaming miniseries about Wade bowling has zero meaningful relevance to the Shadow movie. Who could have seen this coming?

Miscellaneous humans

For that matter, the human supporting cast is MASSIVELY downplayed in this one. Tom and Maddie are there for two key sequences (the beginning of the movie and the GUN HQ heist), but otherwise they disappear for long stretches of the movie. They don't go to Japan in act I, nor do they go to space in act III, and there's no subplot for them during those periods, either. There's nothing like the wedding subplot in Sonic 2 where they'd constantly cut back to Hawaii for comic relief with the humans and only reveal why this was relevant to the plot near the end. (There's also no random dance battle in Siberia.) If a human character is here, it's because they have something to contribute to the plot right away. Most people will probably consider this an improvement, and I'd certainly say it makes for a much tighter script, though I have to remind everyone that I thought the wedding being a GUN sting operation was such a funny twist that I'm a defender of the Hawaii subplot.

On the subject of Tom, something funny I've noticed is that they've just completely downplayed the fact that Tom and Wade are cops. Tom being a cop never comes up once. Wade being a cop only gets referenced via the fact that he's practicing hockey on the roof of the police station in his one scene, but he's not in uniform or anything. They clearly got the memo that we don't want Sonic to hang out with cops.

Here's something else funny: Rachel and Randall got character posters, but they're actually not in the movie! Not technically, anyway. During the heist sequence at GUN HQ, Tom and Maddie use some gadgets Tails invented to holographically disguise themselves as those other characters. But the real Rachel and Randall never show up in the flesh. It's a very odd way to shoehorn the actors into the movie. (Jojo is also absent. They did not give her Amy's role of being the girl who reminds Shadow of Maria. Instead they just let Sonic have the big heart to heart with Shadow that makes him switch sides.)

You know who IS in this movie? Krysten Ritter. Not as the voice of Rouge, as the fandom once hoped, but as a director for GUN. She gets like three scenes and she feels completely checked out the whole time. Can't say I blame her! She's not really a character, just a plot necessity. Commander Walters dies in Japan but gives Sonic one of two keycards needed to activate the Eclipse Cannon, and then Ritter's character assumes Sonic stole it and labels him a bad guy. So that's why they have to break into GUN HQ in the second act instead of just talking things out with them. Still, I am at least relieved that Sonic doesn't work with GUN for most of the movie.

I gotta be honest: when Walters pulled a credit card-shaped object out of his pocket, I thought he was about to give Sonic another Olive Garden gift card as his final act before dying. Part of me wishes that happened.

The supporting human character in this who really gets to shine is Agent Stone, which I'm sure most fans will agree was the correct choice. There's a LOT of Agent Stone in this. He's good. I don't have much to say about him, but he's fun as usual.

But, of course, the ones who steal the show are Jim Carrey, and his costar Jim Carrey.

The Robotniks

I've gone back and forth on whether or not I can actually see movie Robotnik as Robotnik. I think with this third and final entry in the Jim Carrey Robotnik Trilogy, I've landed on... yeah, that's just Jim Carrey playing a Jim Carrey character. He's absolutely having fun with the role, and I enjoyed watching him, but I think a lot of that comes down to the fact that I'm a millennial who grew up watching Jim Carrey movies. If you didn't like him before, this movie will probably be nails on a chalkboard to you, because now there are two of him.

Ivo's arc here leans very heavily into the fact that he grew up as an orphan and never knew his family, a thing offhandedly mentioned in the first movie that's never been a thing for any other version of the character. Here, he learns that he has a living grandfather who's also a mad scientist, and it feels like a hole in his heart has been filled. It certainly makes sense for a place to take this version of the character, and it fits with the movie's themes of finding and losing family, but the cartoonish, childlike affection Ivo feels towards Gerald and all the scenes of them frolicking and dancing together have basically nothing to do with the characters from the games. He's a fun villain for this movie, but he's overwhelmingly used as comic relief this time rather than as a serious threat. He doesn't particularly feel like Sega's Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the arch nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog who'd take over the world with an army of robots and a fleet of airships in the span of a day if Sonic wasn't around to stop him. He's a guy who lives in a big crab robot and has some drones. He has more in common with Carrey's depictions of the Grinch or the Riddler or Count Olaf than Dr. Eggman. Though he does, at least, finally get his outfit from the games by the end of the movie. So that's something. And also he's in a fat suit now. They only make jokes at the expense of his weight a little. Hooray...?

Gerald, meanwhile, is... largely the same character as movie Eggman, but older, so they can make jokes about him having saggy flesh and smelling funny and needing dentures. (Also, his voice kind of sounds like Homer Simpson sometimes?) To his credit, Carrey absolutely nails the handful of more serious scenes Gerald gets, whether it's Maria's death or his sinister turn when he reveals that he actually wants to destroy the Earth. But then it's right back to goofs about there being two of the same guy. Even the final battle features a lot of slapstick shenanigans with the two Robotniks fighting each other. I was able to enjoy the absurdity of it all, but if the humor doesn't land for you the dual Jim Carrey schtick is a hell of a lot of the movie. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more Gerald than Shadow in the movie, when you go and tally up their screentime. I was able to enjoy the sheer absurdity of it, but your mileage will vary.

I will, however, say that the split screen stuff they do with the two Carreys is EXTREMELY impressive, from a filmmaking perspective. They were absolutely flexing with their ability to pull the effect off. They don't rely on cheap tricks like cutting a lot, or having shot/reverse shot scenes where you're looking at the back of a body double's head. Instead they have a lot of long takes where the two Robotniks are talking to each other, you can see both of their faces, and they'll even hug and touch each other a lot, and the whole time the conversation maintains a natural pace like it really is two actors playing off of each other. It's really well done. It's an incredibly silly idea, but boy did they commit to it.

Sonic

I've hardly said anything about Sonic himself in all of this. It's his movie, isn't it! Well... I don't know, he's fine.

I feel like movie Sonic is a known quantity at this point, and either you like this take on the character or you don't. There was some speculation early on that this was supposed to be a younger Sonic who would grow into being the character we know from the games and comics, the one who's still got lots of quips but is also kind of aloof and cool, a free spirit who goes where the wind takes him, a figure the other characters look up to. And... no, that didn't happen. Once again he gets more serious as the stakes are raised, and he's totally badass when he goes Super, but the rest of the time he's still a little goober with tons of generic one-liners who learns schmaltzy lessons about the importance of family. He's still constantly going to undercut the tension of most scenes by cracking a pop culture reference that will make the average American parent go "haha I've heard of that." I don't think they're ever gonna change that. I think this just what the writers think Sonic is like.

And, again, for what it is, it's fine. He's a little annoying. You already know how you feel about movie Sonic. This third entry won't change that. But they do, at least, have him say "Talk about low budget flights, no food or movies... I'm outta here!" before jumping out of a helicopter. As my thoughts on the climax will show, I am not immune to fanservice.

The climax

God, the climax is SOOOOO fucking good. It's fantastic. Easily the best action these movies have ever done.

Rather than saving Super Shadow for the team-up with Sonic at the end, they have both of them go Super to fight each other first, and they just go full DBZ with it, fighting across the entire planet. It absolutely rules. I think this is the new coolest fight the two of them have had in anything ever. And then they have to stop the Eclipse Cannon together, and sure, there's no Biolizard. But Gerald DOES release a swarm of GUN Hunter robots, and the ensuing space battle turns into some Gundam shit. It's good! It's so good!!! The movie's flaws kind of melt away for me here when I'm watching Super Shadow take out an army of robots with Chaos Spears on the big screen. What a timeline we're living in.

And yes, they play "Live and Learn." They had to. They knew the assignment. They actually play a slight remix, but it's still got the original vocals, so it's perfectly recognizable. Actually, the tune of the song is used as a leitmotif for Shadow throughout the movie, first introduced via an acoustic guitar version played by Maria, and I really love that. I've been begging these movies to use more music from the games the whole time, and I'm glad they finally did so here. (They also use the traditional level clear jingle early in the film, and Eggman's theme from SA2 is very briefly used as a ringtone.)

... Anyway, uh, meanwhile Eggman, Tails, and Knuckles straight up just kill Gerald to save the world? They unceremoniously knock him into an energy field at the end of their slapstick fight aboard the Eclipse Cannon and he disintegrates like he hit a bugzapper. It's over in an instant. It's not graphic or anything, but it's, like... I didn't expect them to show it, or for it to be such a casual murder! Eggman has one quip about it and then immediately moves on.

Shortly after this, Eggman and Shadow sacrifice themselves to stop the Eclipse Cannon. Shadow's sacrifice doesn't stick, obviously (he's revealed to be alive by the end of the second stinger—pretend to be shocked), but Eggman's probably dead dead. I seriously doubt Jim Carrey's gonna come out of retirement for these movies again. His final moments before the big explosion are also SO dragged out and belabored. He has a dramatic final line like ten times in a row. It really just feels like the series saying goodbye to Carrey. And, again, it feels like a fitting enough end for this Eggman's arc, but it's an odd adaptation of the character from the games.

And so, that's what we're left with. This is far from Sonic Adventure 2: The Movie. It's not that, though there are many, many references made to that game in particular. It's a sequel to the film Sonic the Hedgehog 2 that has a similar tone and style, but Shadow and Gerald are in it, and Shadow gets some really cool fights, and there's a liiiiiittle more focus on stuff from the games than last time, and the script's a little tighter. If that sounds fun to you, you will have fun with this. I know I did. If it doesn't, you're probably better off waiting for them to inevitably do an animated reboot whenever this live action series runs out of steam.

It hasn't quite run out of steam yet, though...

The post-credits scenes, and the future

One of the big questions going into this was: what's next? How do they top a Shadow movie with heavy Sonic Adventure 2 overtones, in terms of hype for the fans? How do you fill Eggman's shoes after Carrey retires, for real this time? There are still more fan favorite rival characters to get through, but how many movies in a row can they introduce a furry foe for Sonic who inevitably turns good and helps him stop a larger threat by the end? And when the hell are we gonna see the girls?

Well, we now have our answer, and it's one I'm cautiously excited for: a whole army of Metal Sonics, and Amy!

Yes, Amy! Finally!! It's an absolute crime that we've gone three whole movies and a streaming miniseries without including the female lead of the series. I've complained about this ad nauseum (and also the fact that they cut Rouge from the story). But at least now they're finally doing something about it.

But now the question is, how will they characterize Amy? Sega's struggled with her for years, and there's a million different directions you can take her. Her one scene here has her smashing a bunch of Metal Sonics and wearing a cloak for the sake of a dramatic reveal, which gives her the vibes of a mysterious, badass action girl. This is, of course, completely different from how Sonic and Amy met in the games. What will her personality be like? She doesn't speak here, so who will they get to play her? Where did she come from? Will she even have a crush on Sonic? All of these have yet to be determined. So, like, I'm hyped to finally see Amy, a character who should've been in the movies from the start, but they could so easily end up playing it safe with an incredibly boring girlboss version of Amy who's no fun at all. We'll have to wait and see.

(My prediction: they're going to try to cast either Zendaya or Ariana as Amy.)

Metal Sonic, likewise, is very exciting, and he looks perfect. He looks just like the design from the games. But the question is: what will they do with this army of Metals? Will they be lead by one main Metal Sonic, perhaps Neo Metal Sonic, who gets to be a proper bad guy? Will they take some cues from Sonic CD, Heroes, and the OVA, or do something completely original? Where did they come from? Were they activated as a failsafe after Eggman died? Did they and Amy come from some sort of bad future, riffing on Sonic CD's time travel? Will they explore the fact that Metal wants to be the one and only Sonic? Or will they just be an army of disposable robot grunts for Sonic and friends to mow down like it's a Dynasty Warriors game, while some other villain takes center stage?

It could go so many different ways, and some prospects are more exciting than others. I mean, the Knuckles show had endless possibilities for what it could do with him, and none of the options on my bingo card were "Pachacamac's ghost tells him to help Wade win a bowling tournament." And while I'm a sicko who thinks it's funny that the Knuckles show is what it is, forgive me for keeping my hype about Amy and Metal Sonic in check here until we learn more.

Regardless of what they do, it'll still be hard to top the hype of Shadow, and it'll be hard to fill Jim Carrey's shoes for general audiences. So despite this clear statement of intent, I have no idea what the future of this film franchise holds. But regardless of what they do, I can say one thing for certain: the kids in my theater were hyped as hell for it. They popped off over Metal Sonic, and they were screaming their heads off with excitement over Amy. I heard a teenage girl on the opposite end of my row of seats say "finally!" over Amy's reveal, verbalizing my exact thoughts. She also said that this movie was "peak," though it diverged from the games, and she hoped they'd do a movie with Silver and Blaze someday.

The kids are gonna be okay.

[elilovesredacted]

Alright, some stiles x witch!longtimebestfriend!reader headcanons

(reader should be GN, though if I make a mistake let me know!)

(that title is long af)

- You guys had been together from diapers, your mothers having been friends for years.

- And once Scott was in the mix, what a trio you were. They were your boys, your best friends.

- When they got picked on, whether for Scott’s asthma or Stiles’ fast talking, you were there to back them up, glaring at their bullies with your hands on your hips.

- Stiles thinks he started to crush on you from then on, and Scott knows he did.

- On the night of Scott’s turning, you had been at home, working on an art piece. Your phone lit up from a text from Stiles, urging you to open your window.

- This lanky guy fell through said window, mind racing as he relayed everything they had seen.

- You sat and listened to him for most of the night. His ramblings were usually ignored or met with some resistance from others, but never you.

- When Scott’s turning began to bring the supernatural to light in Beacon Hills, your own powers began to surface.

- You had been sitting in English class, mindlessly doodling while trying your best to stay focused. Stiles and Scott sat behind you, whispering about their crazy nights, and what to do about Derek.

- Your eyes began to burn, your head pounding. Everyone in the room is silent, but you can hear voices across the campus in your mind.

- Stiles notices. Of course he does, he knows everything about you. His hand reaches forward to touch your shoulder, calling your name softly.

- Before he can touch you, you let out a pained cry, the entire class turning to stare.

- Both the boys stand up and quickly rush you out of the room, Scott trying his best to let the teacher know that you’re going to the nurse.

- They bring you to the locker rooms, your hands gripping your hair as you continue to hear the innermost thoughts of the teens of Beacon Hills.

- Stiles places you on the ground, turning to Scott and asking him to call his mom.

- The poor boy is terrified, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

- “Come on, Sparks. Talk to me.”

- The nickname came from the time you almost lit your picnic blanket on fire, trying to light candles for a nighttime picnic with them both.

- You stare at him, trying desperately to hear him.

- “S-Stiles..”

- “I’m right here, promise.”

- You try to count the moles on his face, not that you needed to. You knew the number.

- When his voice entered your mind, it was soft, almost like a wave crashing over you.

- Please be okay, please be okay, i’m here, i’m here Y/N, you’re gonna be okay..

- Hearing the panic rising in his mind, your reached out and gripped his hand, tugging him to sit next to you.

- The boy flailed alittle, before wrapping you in his arms and rocking you slowly.

- When you began to hear less and less, you started explaining what had happened, your eyes trying to focus on his.

- “What the hell is going on, Stiles..”

- He held your face gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

- “I promise you, I will help you figure it out. You’ve got me, and Scott, and we’re gonna be right here.”

- You leaned into his touch before burying your head into his neck, breathing in his cologne and gripping his flannel.

- If you could have seen his face, you’d see how unbelievably excited he was to have you cuddled up with him, his hands shaking lightly as he rubbed your back.

- Whatever journey you were going to go on, he would be with you all the way.

I hope you enjoyed, if you want me to continue this please let me know!

[lis-likes-fics]

Not Fair

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader Word Count: 6.1k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, Mommy kink, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), strap-on, multiple orgasms, swearing... A/N: Writing a fic with a mommy kink was personally difficult bc I don't have one... So I tried my best, and I hope you like it. Emily Prentiss could do things to me that would make Aaron Hotchner blush. Happy Halloween!

When Emily's phone pings again, she clenches her fists. It's been going off practically all day. She's been busy with all this work on her desk, case files on case files, and she hasn't been able to focus because you keep texting her.

She received the first text as soon as she got to the BAU. She was talking to JJ when her phone went off and all she saw on her screen was “Miss you already”. When she opened her texts, she almost had a stroke.

It was a picture of you, your arms behind your head and your hip jutted out to the side. You've got your face cut off by the frame to give full attention to your body. Normally that wouldn't be so bad. She'd call you beautiful and promise to kiss you when she got home.

But it was hard to think such wholesome thoughts when you were naked on the screen.

“Everything okay?” JJ had asked.

Emily looked up, pulling herself harshly from her thoughts. She blinked blankly, nodding. “Uh, yeah. All good.”

JJ poorly pretends to believe her and lets her scramble to her desk. Hunched over her phone, Emily replied. “Not fair.” You just sent back a wink.

You sent her more and more throughout the day, each riskier than the last. One laying flat on your bed, the curve of your bare ass intoxicating. One of you straddling your pillow, cut off just beneath the eyes, enough to see your mouth fallen in bliss. One grasping your breasts and flicking the nipple. One spreading your legs for the camera to show how wet you are. One with your hand on the inside of your thigh, far too close for her liking.

It’s been driving her nuts, and she’s surrounded by profilers. It’s not a very good mix. She was counting down the minutes until she could get back to you and adjust your behavior.

As she looks hesitantly at her screen, she braces herself for what she’ll find. “New message: When will you come home to me, Mommy?” She runs a hand down her face, and then pales when she sees, “Video received”.

Emily stands from her desk, escaping quickly to find an empty room to lock herself in. As she opens her phone and goes through her messages, she grasps it tight while she presses play.

Her blood rushes when she sees you, your spread wide open with your fingers shoved inside of you. Your moans are high and breathless, the schlep! schlep! schlep! sounds of your pussy are making it hard to contain herself. “I couldn’t help myself, Mommy,” you whimper, staring at the camera with your face screwed up in pleasure. “I miss you so much. I need you so bad, Mommy. Please come home.”

Yeah… Safe to say, you're in trouble when she gets home.

~

When Emily steps through the front door, she makes sure to slam it a little as she closes it behind her.

“Em?” Your voice carries down the hall, followed by the soft padding of your feet. When she spots you, you're in an oversized T-shirt that you'd stolen from Derek one day. “You're home! I made dinner.”

You go in to hug her, pulling her in close with a sigh. Emily does not hug you back.

“You okay, baby?” you ask when you don't feel her arms wrap around you. You place your hand on her cheek, cupping her face with a smile.

Emily just looks at you, her face hard with frustration. “You know what you did.”

“I don't know what you mean.” You tilt your head. You're so good, she almost believes you.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

You sigh, brushing your hands down her chest. “Well, did it work?”

She stares at you. Emily has always had a very firm, very strong stare. You begin to squirm the longer she stares, and you know that you're in trouble…

“Go to bed…”

You lick your bottom lip, suppressing a grin as you dip your head. You turn on your heel, shuffling back to the room slow enough to make sure she can see your ass sticking out beneath the shirt.

Emily kicks her shoes off by the door, locking it behind her. She shrugs her jacket off on the way down the hall after you. She stops as she peers into the kitchen. You made beef stew—with it being October already, it's started to get cold outside. The smell alone is making her hungry.

When she makes it to the bedroom, you're sitting on the bed with your legs crossed. The shirt is draping off your shoulder, exposing skin to her that she wants to sink her teeth into.

Emily smiles. “You've been so alone all day, haven't you?”

You look up at her through your lashes, nodding a bit. “I missed you.”

“I could tell,” she lilts. She comes up to you, standing in front of your knees. She uses her own to knock them apart so she can stand between your thighs. You look up at her, admiring her smile and completely untrusting of it. “Missed me so much, you broke the rules.”

You knew that would get her going. You bite down on your bottom lip. “Sorry. I couldn't help it, waiting was hard.”

“No, I understand,” she nods. Her brows furrow, and she cups your cheek gently. “Waiting is hard. But I'm here, and we don't have to wait anymore. Right?”

You nod gently. “Mhm.”

Was she really not upset? She's being so sweet, and you'd expected a very different response to the pictures you sent…the video. But here she is, stroking your skin and kissing you pretty. Maybe she missed you just as much.

She bends down to your lips, and you breathe in happily when she kisses you. You keen into her touch, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her in close. She's warm, very warm against you.

Emily doesn't break away from you as she leans in, pushing you back so you're laying against the bed. She pulls you against her, pushing you up the bed until your head is resting against the pillows. You wrap your legs around her waist, especially as she takes your wrists in her hands above your head.

“What are you doing?” you giggle, pulling you down against you.

She just shushes you, a smile on her lips as she does. You're happy to listen.

Until you hear clicking and feel the cold bite of metal against your skin. You pull away from her lips, looking up to find she's cuffed your wrist to one of the wooden poles of the bedpost.

“Em?” You reach for the cuff, tugging to no avail. “Emily, what's going on?”

She hums, standing and walking away from you. You watch as she goes to the bedside table, opening the top drawer and pulling out more cuffs. She keeps an extra pair in case of emergency (and apparently for moments like this).

She roughly grabs your other hand, still smiling, and cuffs you to the other pole. “Emily, baby, we can talk about this,” you try. She's not listening.

Emily stands, looks at you, and then leaves the room. “Emily!”

You hear her walk down the hall. When she returns, you flush at the sight of some rope in her hands. When she roughly grabs your ankle, you pull, but she's stronger than you (especially when you're in such a vulnerable position). She wraps a rope securely around your ankle, and then to another bed post. She does the same with the second rope.

Okay, yes, she's upset. You think that's safe to say by now.

Your legs are spread wide, your arms are unavailable at the moment. She's got you in the most vulnerable position you could be in. You try to close your legs, just get your thighs to touch, but there's nothing you can do. You're trapped.

Emily feasts on the sight of you. Her fingertips brush your skin as she slowly drags your shirt up just to reveal the softness of your belly to her. She presses her hand there, adoring the way the slightest gasp lifts from your chest.

She loves seeing you like this: your bare pussy glistening with arousal, your peaked nipples showing through the fabric of your shirt, the smooth skin of your thighs and belly and arms and neck and cheeks exposed to her and her only.

She gently scraped her nails beneath your chin, patting your cheek lightly. Then she turns and ventures toward the opposite end of the room.

“Okay, Emily, I'm sorry.” You're not new to being tied up, but it's not a frequent habit of Emily's to tie you up. And all the other times you've done it, she just cuffed your wrists together and bent you over with her strap. This is relatively new territory.

She doesn't respond. Emily crosses her arms over her chest, one leg over the other, and leans against the wall, looking over you with an unreadable expression.

“Why did you do it?”

You lick your bottom lip. “I missed you, and-and I was horny. I just wanted attention. I'm sorry about the pictures.”

She scoffs. “I don't care about the pictures.” She tilts her head. “You know the rules. You're only allowed to touch your little pussy with my permission. Did you ask my permission?”

“No,” you whisper. “No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched myself without you. I didn't cum! I swear, I didn't cum. I couldn't, not without you.” You pull at the restraints again. It's making you hot and it's making you wet, but the feeling of not being able to move is unnerving. “Please, I'm sorry, Emily. I won't do it again, I promise. Just please let me go, and I'll fix it.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment, though you can see the tiny smirk playing on her lips. You're rambling. She's only tied you up, and you're already letting apologies pour like wine.

“Please, I'm sorry.”

She hums. “That's very nice, that you're sorry…but you've been a bad girl. Do you know what happens to bad girls, princess?”

You don't respond this time, nervous about what she has planned.

She raises a brow, inquiring further. “Hm?”

“They get punished,” you whisper, so soft that you know she can't quite hear you.

“What was that?” she questions.

You speak a little louder this time. “They get punished.”

“That’s right,” she smiles, uncrossing her arms and standing straight again. She comes near the bed, stopping at the edge. “They get punished. How should you be punished, hm?”

You don't know how to answer that. You don't want to answer that. Your throat is dry, and you tug at your wrists.

“Make me wait,” you mutter. It seems like a decent option, the best out of the available ones that you can think of. Maybe she'll keep you laying there, tied down, for a little while and then let you go. You hadn't waited, so she'll make you wait for her to touch you even longer in response. It's a good option. A safe option.

“Make you wait?” she asks, the answer seemingly absurd to her. “After all the attention you wanted, the attention you obviously needed if you were touching yourself with me. No, no, no, I don't think you should wait. You've waited enough.”

She sighs. You watch her brush some hair behind her ear before she turns to the closet. “No, I think you deserve to cum,” she announces from inside. When she comes back, she's holding two black boxes. You've seen one before, long and slender, but the other is foreign to you. Has she bought a new toy?

“In fact,” she sends you a big smile, one that disarms you in both a beautiful and frightening way, “I think you should get to cum as much as you want.”

She opens the first box, taking the pink wand in her hand. You want to rub your thighs together, but for obvious reasons…

“Emily, please…”

“Hush, princess.” She comes back to the bed, setting the wand down in the space between your legs and placing the second box on the bed. She pulls it open, but you can't really see what's inside until she pulls it out.

They're straps. Three ordinary straps. Your brows furrow as you look at them and try to figure out what is so special about them.

And then you realize it when she unbuckles the clasp and begins to wrap them around your inner thigh.

You start saying her name again, repeating it over and over again as you try to squirm away from her. You rant and ramble more apologies, more reasons why she shouldn't do this, how you can make it up to her.

Emily looks firmly at you when you squirm too much.

“If you keep moving, I'll only make it worse.”

You stop, shutting your mouth and keeping still. Her smile returns, and she continues to buckle the straps to your leg. When they're tight and in place, you whine. She picks up the wand, the one that plugs in and goes on for however long she wants it to.

Emily plugs it into the extension cord she's pulled out, slipping the vibrator into the slots in the straps, right against your clit.

“You're going to lay there, and you're going to behave. If it turns out that you're not going to be a good girl, then I've got other ways to ensure that you do. Do you understand me?” Her tone is firm. She leaves no room for debate.

“Yes,” you squeak out.

“Yes, what?”

Her voice sends shivers down your spine. “Yes, Mommy.”

She smiles once more, rounding to your side. She sets a hand on the top of your head, then bends down to kiss your forehead gently. “Good girl,” she smiles. “I knew you could be a good girl for me.” You sigh. “Now let's get this going, shall we?”

You swallow thickly, even worse when she reaches for the wand. You brace for when she turns it on, your leg jerking and doing nothing to stop the strong vibrations shooting through your body. It starts out intense already, and it's obviously worse when she still raises it a couple notches.

You gasp lightly, closing your eyes as a shudder rushes down your spine. She pets you gently, admiring the way you look when you're desperate like this. She hikes your shirt up, brushing her fingers over your peaked nipples and teasing it with the pad of her thumb.

You turn your face toward her to take in her smell. She smells like expensive perfume. It's not a strong smell, but it's a nice one that makes your head pleasantly fuzzy.

“Does that feel good?” she asks gently.

Reluctantly, you nod. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Good,” she hums. “You can come whenever you want, as many times as you want. And I'll be back to check on you.”

You pause, your brain clouded with the buzzing at your clit, but ultimately taken aback by her words. “Huh?”

“Well, I'm not going to let dinner go to waste. It smells delicious, and I'm starving.” She's already walking to the door. You squirm, but the wand never lets up. She's secured it so well that there's no way for you to twist and make it let up. “Maybe I'll have a glass of wine, read a chapter or two.”

Your brows knit together, and you beg. “No, please. I'll be so good, I promise. Please don't leave me. Mommy, please.”

She just smiles. “Make sure to count for me, or I'll have to add more time.”

She closes the door as she leaves the room. “Emily!”

~

Emily hears a loud whimper down the hall as she's portioning your helping and washing the dishes. You haven't eaten yet—you were waiting on her. She smirks, putting the food away and placing your bowl in the microwave for later.

Pouring herself a glass of wine, she makes her way back to the bedroom. She pushes the door opening.

“Hey, baby. How’re you doing?”

Your eyes are squeezed shut. There are tears running down the side of your face as your chest heaves uncontrollably. Your legs are trembling, and you squirm as the wand continues to vibrate against your sensitive clit.

“P-please,” you mutter, opening your dazed eyes. “Please, ‘m sorry. I'll be g-good, I swear.”

Emily hums. She walks further into the room, sipping her wine as she does. “What number are you at?”

It takes you a moment to respond. She watches your face scrunch, the searing overstimulation shifting back into a sensitive pleasure. Your mouth goes to form the word, but it's hard to get out as you finally mutter, “Five.”

She’d been gone a half hour, had taken her sweet time in eating. “Five,” she echoes, her brows raised. “Very good.”

She places a hand on your cheek, brushing her thumb over your skin with a smile. “Dinner was amazing, princess. Thank you for cooking.”

You'd respond if you weren't struggling to focus. She watches your back arch off the bed as you tug at your restraints—not even to get out at this point, but to move. “Please, Mommy.” Your words are sticky, like forming them is a chore on its own.

“Shh,” she pets your head gently. “I'm gonna go read. You'll be good for me, won't you?”

Another tear slips down your face, and you reluctantly nod your response. “Yes, Mommy.”

She smiles. “Good girl.”

Emily picks her book from the nightstand, taking it in her hand as she begins to leave. “Oh, almost forgot,” she pauses. She comes back to you, kissing your forehead before she's turning the intensity up even more. “There we go. I'll be back.”

You curse, turning your head into your shoulder. “Please don't l-leave me here again.” Emily pets you once more and does just that.

~

It's exceedingly difficult to focus on words on a page when all Emily can hear is the sound of your heavy breaths and whining moans down the hall. Every time you cum, it's with her name on your tongue.

She imagines sweaty skin, glazed eyes, your back arched up with the rise of pleasure. She imagines her tongue flicking over the soft skin of your neck, her teeth nipping your throat. She imagines her fingers shoving into the delicate, velvety warmth between your folds. She imagines bending you over her knee and smacking your ass in rough, punishing claps of her palm. She imagines slipping her glistening fingers into her mouth, lapping her tongue over the slick she'd gathered from you and relishing her fluttering lashes at the sweetness.

Then she remembers that that isn't the plot of the book, and she's supposed to be focused on other things. She checks her watch for maybe the eleventh time in the past ten minutes and wonders if it's been enough time for her to return. When she decides it hasn't, she takes a gulp of wine and restarts the page she's been staring at for the past twenty-five minutes. She's surprised she's lasted this long…

Enough is enough when she eventually hears you being literally reduced to tears. She decides she wants to see that for herself as she listens to the hefty sobs passing your lips, heaving in your chest. When she pushes the bedroom door open, she isn't disappointed at what she finds.

She doesn't think you've noticed her yet. You lay across the bed, your limbs trembling, your mouth agape like you've got something stuck in it. Her back arches as you fight the oversensitivity of a fresh orgasm. You've tugged so hard on your restraints, your wrists and ankles are rubbed raw.

Emily's eyes are hooded as she watches you. “Oh, baby,” she coos, coming up to you and placing a gentle hand on your thigh. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

You look at her, then up at the ceiling, then back over to her. You look entirely dazed, like you're not even in the room. You huff and whimper as you try to catch your breath. Your face is painted in tears, and more squeeze out every time you blink.

“How do you feel, princess?” she purrs as she sits at the edge of the bed. Her hand strokes your skin when she reaches across your belly, letting her thumb stroke over your belly button and then rubbing gently over the soft plush of your tummy.

Your words are slow and choppy as you struggle to speak, the pleasure too much not to drag you down and force you to stumble. “‘m sorry about…ah-bout s-sending you p-pictures at work and—mmph!—’nd f’r touching myself without p—aah, permission.” A sob erupting from your throat brings a new haste to your apology. “I sh-should’ve been your good girl while you were g-gone, but I wasn't. Fuck, Mommy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. I–”

She cuts you off with her lips on yours, silencing your apology and letting you whimper into her mouth. Her palm cups your cheek, her thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You lean into the kiss like you've been starved of her—because you have—drinking her down as soil drinks water.

“Shh,” she smiles. “Good girl. That's a good girl. It's okay.” She shushes you gently once more as she strokes her knuckles against your cheek. “I know that was hard. Was that hard? Staying in here and cumming without me? Hm? Was it hard cumming without my hands on your skin, princess?”

You nod, still not quite focused with the way the wand ravaged you. “Yes, was hard, Mommy. I missed you.”

“Yeah?” she sighs. “It was hard for me, too… Not being in here while you came over and over again. I wanted to be here so I could watch you fall apart, so I could know that it was me who did it. You're mine, baby, and I deserve to be there when my things feel good. Right?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, yes. Yes, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” She shushes. “All I want you to do is promise me something.”

“Anything,” you gasp. “Anything, please.”

“Promise me you'll never touch your pretty pussy without my permission ever again.”

You nod. “I promise.”

“Say it.” Her voice is so low, it's nearly a growl in your ear. “Say it, baby.”

“I'll never t-touch my p-pretty pussy without your permission—mm—ever again. I promise!”

She strokes inside our cheeks some more, and you turn your face into her arms as she does. “Good girl. Good girl,” she smiles. “Just cum one more time for me, and I'll let you go, okay?”

The look you give her is devastating. More tears make their way down your cheeks, and she thinks briefly that you're in pain.

“Please,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Please, I can't.”

She nods gently. “Sure you can. What are you at right now?”

You look like you're trying to remember. Your brain is fogged up with pleasure and overstimulation and the feeling of Emily's nails lightly scratching the back of your neck. You speak in the middle of a moan. “Nine.” Your hips are bucking like you're already nearing another.

She applauds your efforts in not passing out. “Nine,” she repeats with a chuckle. “Make it ten, babygirl, and I'll let you go. Can you do that for me? Can you make it ten?”

Your head whirls as you give a slanted nod. “Yes, Mommy.”

She smiles. “Good girl. Such a good girl you are.” She bends down to kiss you. “Just keep lookin’ at me, princess. Look at me and scream my name when you cum, okay? Can you do that?”

Again you nod. “Yes, Mommy.”

She hums, slipping her hand beneath your shirt. Her fingers graze your skin before swiping over your nipple. You're a goner from the start, forcing your eyes to stay open as you watch her, relishing the feeling of the pad of her thumb rubbing feather-light circles over it. “My perfect girl, look at you,” she coos. “God, you're so beautiful. So pretty when you cry and pretty when you cum.”

Her praise is spurring you on, encouraging the desperate buck of your hips as you feel the—now very—familiar spark of an orgasm creeping up on you. It tingles in your thighs and in your belly. It curls your fingers and makes it impossible to stay still.

“You wanna cum for me, babygirl? Hm?” she purrs, kissing your forehead. You nod, and she excuses your lack of words this one time because she knows you're too distracted. “Then cum for me, princess. Cum for Mommy, and tell her how good it feels. C’mon, baby, you can do it.”

You swear you go blind for a moment. You lose your vision staring at Emily, arching your back off the bed as your stomach tenses, and then your legs, and then everything else in your body. Your brain is fuzzy, and you don't even realize it when her name flies off your tongue.

Emily makes you ride out the orgasm, petting you and shushing you and praising you as you struggle to keep up. Your brain feels numb, and you're confident that you'll start drooling if you turn your head.

Emily switches off the wand, unwrapping it from your leg and earning a tiny gasp. She unties the rope, she uncuffs your wrists. She frees you bit by bit until you're laying limply on the bed because it's all you can do.

Emily rubs her hands along your thighs, speaking gently as she comes to the side of the bed. “Such a good girl for me. You did so well, princess,” she coos. “My perfect little girl.”

You don't respond. She'd expected a hum, a moan, any kind of acknowledgment. “Baby?”

She brushes her fingertips along your hairline and finds that you've fallen asleep. Your eyes are closed, your body is entirely limp, and the only reason she knows you're not dead is because your chest is gently rising and falling with each breath that passes through you.

Emily thinks you're the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. And she loves you.

Emily nudges her nose against yours and kisses your lips gently. She stands to her feet and rounds to the foot of the bed. The bed dips under the weight of her knee, then again as she leans on her elbows, taking your thighs in her grasp.

You stir when she kisses your inner thigh, then again when her lips find the softness of your aching clit.

“Mm,” you mumble. “Emily?”

She smiles against your folds, pressing forward to kiss your pussy, tasting the arousal that has gathered there in plentiful amounts. “You're soaking, baby.”

She hears you mutter “Jesus fucking Christ” under your breath, but your attention to the holy spirit is squandered when she licks you, lapping her tongue through your folds and suckling on your abused clit.

“Please, I can't take anymore,” you whine, twitching away from her as your limbs ache. Though she can feel the way you buck weakly into her when she finds the right spot.

“Relax,” she chuckles. “I'm just getting a taste of you.” She grips you roughly when you whimper. “You taste fucking amazing, princess.”

When she kisses your thigh, your leg jerks a little. “God, you're so sensitive.”

You let out a deep breath. “I just came ten times in a row, baby. Of course, I'm sensitive.”

She lightly smacks your side. She sits up, placing herself between your legs. “I'm about to make it a whole lot worse by making you feel a whole lot better.”

You whine, especially when she grabs your knee and turns you over onto your stomach. She pulls you into the position she wants, on your knees with your face in the pillows. “Did you take a little blue pill or–”

Your question is interrupted when she shoves her fingers inside of you, curling them and loving the way you groan. “Don't be a little brat.” She smacks your ass, smoothing it with her palm after.

You nod into the pillow. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Good,” she smiles. “Stay.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Emily moves off the bed. You hear her slacks drop to the floor, her shirt follows. You look over your shoulder just to watch her strip, her bra and her underwear falling to the floor and revealing her strap. She loves wearing it, you're just surprised she can keep it as well-hidden as she does.

The bed dips once more when she retakes her position behind you. “You ready?”

You nod, and then speak when you know that nodding won't work. “Yes, Mommy.”

She strokes her hand along your back, lining herself up with you before pushing herself between your slick folds. It's easy to do, you're dripping. She laughs when this deep moan slips out of you.

“Fuck, Mommy,” you sigh, gripping the sheets. “Fuck me, please.”

Emily's had a lot of practice in denying you the chance to cum, in making you cum over and over again, in punishing and praising you for every little thing you do right or wrong.

But she's never been able to deny you when you ask so sweetly, begging for her the way you do like you're just desperate for her to use you.

She grabs your hips tight, pulling out of you slowly before shoving back into you so roughly that your body is pushed back into the bed. You moan out loud, gasping as you bury your face in the pillows. She does it again, and again, and again. The head of her cock punches against a deep part inside of you that makes you shout.

Emily takes a lot of pleasure in fucking you. It feels nice to feel you fall apart beneath her, mumbling and gasping and moaning whenever she thrusts into you, crying out when her hand smacks down on your ass just because she wants it to.

“You're so perfect for me, princess,” she coos, a rough groan coming out of her when she pulls you roughly back onto her. “You like when I fuck you like this?”

You nod. “Yes. Yes, Mommy, I love it so much.”

“I know you do,” she hums. “My little girl loves it when I fuck her nice and rough. She loves being used by Mommy.”

Her thrusts bring waves of pleasure that make it impossible to stay quiet. You squeeze your eyes shut, clench around her with each drag of her cock. Her pace is quick and rough, and your head is swirling with all the feelings rushing through you. You didn't think you'd crave it so much, but you feel the need to cum, the desire to to gush and cry as you let go for her.

The sound of skin on skin, hips to ass, slick against slick, it drives you mad. Your mind whirls, and you revel in it.

“Please, Mommy, can I cum? I needa cum so bad,” you babble, gripping the sheets in a tight fist. “Needa cum for you.”

“You want to cum?” she smiles, mild shock on her face. “I make you feel so good that you want to cum again? All for me?”

You nod. “Yes, fuck. Please, can I? I've been good. I apologized, I did what you asked. Please.”

Her hips snap into you as she considers. “I don't know…”

A slight sob falls from your mouth. “I promise I'll be so good for you, Mommy. I'll do whatever you want. Please, just let me cum for you.”

God, where would she be without you? Maybe getting work done.

“Okay, baby,” she says. “You can cum. I'll make you cum.”

You hear the sound of the wand coming to life again, and your hips buck. “Ah, ah, ah. You said you wanted to cum. You're gonna cum how I want you to cum.”

You don't know what you expected, but you're going to listen because you love Emily and Emily knows best. Also, she holds all the power on whether or not you actually get what you want, so there's also that.

She presses the wand to your clit, and a startled moan erupts from your chest. “F-fuck,” you whine.

“That’s it. Let it out, baby. Cum for me,” she rasps in your ear. You have no choice but to obey as she thrusts into you with all the enthusiasm in the world, holding the wand steady and making you weak with the tremors it sends through your body.

It's like a band snaps in your belly, and it takes you completely by surprise when it happens. “Mommy!” you shout, burying your face in the pillow as you gasp, clenching down around her as she continues to fuck you with all the roughness she has.

Somewhere along the way of sparks and flashes and curling guts, you sob. It feels nice to do it, a release that joins your orgasm and shivers through the whole of your body. “Fuck, Mommy, yes. Thank you s’much.”

Emily's mouth presses to the back of your neck, loving on you with kisses and gentle grazes of her teeth. “Good girl,” she coos. “Such a good girl for me. Always a good girl.”

You preen under her praise, gasping when she pulls the wand away and then out of you. You let your body fall on your side, relaxing into the sheets with the heavy weight of relief.

Emily strokes a hand along your skin, slowly and deeply to massage your muscles. You almost fall asleep again as she does it before she collapses beside you with a huff. She undoes the ties of her strap and sets it aside before she pulls you into her.

“You're amazing,” you slur into her skin.

She snorts. “You're amazing.”

You slide a hand down her side, dipping between her legs to push them apart. “What’re you doing?”

You sit up, spreading her legs as you settle yourself between them. “Making you feel good.”

Again, Emily chuckles. “Well, who am I to refuse that?”

You roll your eyes, dipping down to lick at her folds, now wet with the pleasure of your pleasure. She lays back, relishing in the feeling of you and your tongue and the gentle graze of your teeth on her folds.

But you're enthusiastic, and you don't let her enjoy soft pleasures. You bury your head between her thighs and lap at her pussy like it drips precious honey. You suckle on her clit and wiggle it between your lips.

“Oh, fuck,” she curses, reaching down to grab your hair, to hold it as you attempt to give her the pleasure she'd given you. “Just like that, baby. So good.” You moan, letting the gentle vibration rock through her. You wrap your arms tightly around her thighs, keeping her locked in place and sighing when she bucks against you.

Her hips become more jerky as they move against you. You can feel her clenching around your tongue when you plunge it inside, and you hum into her as you anticipate her coming release. Her breath swells as it builds and builds.

She pulls you roughly in, caging you in with her thighs around your head when she cums. You whine into her, sucking on her clit and lapping at her folds as she cums, her moans deep and breathy with the call of your name.

The pleasure floats in her head and makes her feel light. She has to pull you away herself once it sours into overstimulation and becomes too much. The irony curls your lip.

“Fuck, baby,” she huffs, leaning back into the pillows as you find your way up the length of her body. You lick your lips clean, enjoying the taste of her as you bend down to kiss her lips.

“You taste good,” you mutter. She smiles and kisses you again.

“Thanks.” She pulls her arms around you, holding you tight as you lay on her chest, her nose nuzzled into her neck. “How do you feel?”

You sigh heavily, nuzzling closer. “Tired.”

“I bet,” she lilts. She kisses your hairline. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“I wouldn't mind more of those pictures. But if you touch yourself without me again, we make it twelve.”

“Oh, God,” you whine, pushing off of her to bury your face in the pillow. She laughs, lugging your body back into her arms as she presses her front to your back. She kisses the spot below your ear and closes her eyes to enjoy the feeling of your warmth.

“I'm gonna need about three business days to recover.”

She snorts. “I'll give you one.”

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 Tag yourself here...

[luveline]

Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)

Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!

thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k

"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 

"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."

You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 

It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 

Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 

"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 

"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 

"Do you have any water?" 

He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"

"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 

"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 

You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 

Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 

Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 

"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 

"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 

"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 

"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 

"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 

You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 

"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.

You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 

You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 

"She's coming around," Hotch says. 

Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 

"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 

You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 

"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 

"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 

"No, you sound funny." 

"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 

"She's okay," Hotch says. 

You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 

"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 

"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 

You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 

"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 

"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.

"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."

"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 

"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 

"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 

"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 

"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 

Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.

"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 

"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 

Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 

"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 

"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"

"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 

"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 

Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 

Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 

"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 

Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 

You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 

"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 

If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 

You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 

He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 

[little-jana]

"Lessons In Love"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: flufffff

Warnings: case talk about a missing child (nothing descriptive), kissing, just two cuties , use of Y/N

Words: 2k

Summary: It was only a matter of time before the carefully constructed love bubble would burst.

Aaron and I had been together for nearly a year, and in all that time, we lived our lives in quiet stolen moments. Our relationship existed in private—his hands brushing mine while he made coffee before work, the way his face softened when he walked through the door after a long case, how he’d pull me into his arms at night like he couldn’t stand the space between us.

But outside our home, Aaron Hotchner was the stoic, untouchable Unit Chief of the BAU. His work was dangerous; his world, a sharp contrast to mine.

“I keep you separate because I have to,” he told me once, his voice thick with guilt. “If anyone knew about you… if anything happened to you…”

I understood why he was cautious. I’d seen the toll his job took on him. I’d comforted him through long nights when his mind was too heavy with what he’d seen, so I never pushed. But deep down, I knew our secret wouldn’t last forever.

It turned out, forever ended on a Tuesday.

---

It started like any other morning. I was in my classroom, arranging my desk as my third-graders filed in, when I noticed the uneasy buzz spreading through the staff. Hushed whispers in the hall. Nervous glances. A heavy air that I hadn’t felt before.

Then the principal stepped in.

“Y/N,” she said gently, “the FBI is here. They need to speak with the teachers about a missing child.”

My heart dropped. I nodded, trying to push down the twisting anxiety in my stomach. “Of course. Let me get my students settled, and I’ll come.”

When I walked into the teacher’s lounge fifteen minutes later, I froze.

There he was—Aaron Hotchner, standing at the head of the room in his sharp suit, his expression stoic and professional. His team flanked him—Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia. Faces I’d seen in stories Aaron told when he couldn’t help but share bits of his work.

For a moment, he didn’t notice me. His focus was on the teachers, explaining the situation in his calm, authoritative voice. But when his gaze swept over the room and landed on me, I saw it—the brief flicker of surprise, the subtle tightening of his jaw.

He recovered quickly, though, his professionalism unshaken. To anyone else, I was just another teacher.

But later, when his team spread out to interview the staff, our paths inevitably crossed again. I’d just answered a series of questions from Emily Prentiss when I found Aaron waiting by my classroom door.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m fine,” I said, matching his tone. “You didn’t have to check on me, Aaron. I know the drill.”

He looked down the empty hall, clearly torn between what he wanted to say and what he *should* say. “I don’t like you being involved in this.”

“I work here,” I reminded him gently. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed, and he cursed under his breath, stepping back. “Stay close to your classroom for now,” he said before walking briskly away.

---

I stayed late after school, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on me. It was well past dismissal when I finally grabbed my coat and bag, heading toward the parking lot. I had just reached the doors when I heard raised voices ahead.

“Hotch, seriously?” That was unmistakably Derek Morgan. “What’s the rush? We can handle this.”

“I’ll meet you back at the station,” Aaron’s familiar voice replied, firm but with an edge of irritation.

“No, no,” Derek said, clearly not letting it go. “We’re not leaving you behind. What are you doing here after hours anyway?”

I rounded the corner just in time to see Aaron standing by his car, with Morgan, Emily, and Spencer blocking his way. Aaron looked uncharacteristically flustered, his hands on his hips, his jaw set.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said evenly.

Morgan grinned. “Oh, come on, Hotch. This is so suspicious. Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us?”

Aaron opened his mouth to respond, but then I walked straight into view. For a moment, everything froze.

Derek turned his head, spotting me. “Oh,” he said slowly, looking me up and down.

I stopped dead, feeling four pairs of eyes land on me. “Um…”

Aaron straightened. “Y/N.”

The team stared at him. Then stared at me.

“Wait a minute,” Emily said, narrowing her eyes. “Why do I feel like you know each other?”

Spencer blinked. “Statistically speaking, the odds of coincidence here are—”

“Not the time, Reid,” Derek interrupted. His gaze shifted between Aaron and me, realization dawning. “Hotch. No way. This is the reason you’ve been so uptight today? You got a crush?”

Aaron let out a breath, clearly realizing the jig was up. He glanced at me apologetically before stepping closer, placing a gentle hand on my lower back. “This is Y/N,” he said, his tone cautious but resolute. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Silence.

Emily’s eyebrows shot up. Penelope’s eyes practically sparkled. Derek’s jaw dropped, his grin widening. “Wait, wait, wait. You have a girlfriend?”

“Since when?” Spencer asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Aaron sighed, his hand still resting on my back as though anchoring both of us. “For a while now.”

Morgan let out a sharp laugh. “Hotch, you sly dog. How did you keep this under wraps for so long?”

“I’m standing right here,” I interjected, half amused and half mortified.

Penelope practically squealed. “Oh my god, this is the cutest thing ever. I had no idea our boss could actually date. Like, romantically.”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting everything about this moment. “We kept it private for a reason.”

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I cannot wait to tell Rossi about this.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Aaron shot back, his voice carrying that unmistakable Unit Chief authority.

I couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to rest my hand on Aaron’s arm. “Well, it was bound to happen eventually.”

He looked down at me, a small smile softening his features. “I guess so.”

Emily smirked, crossing her arms. “Don’t worry, Hotch. We’ll go easy on you. *For now.*”

As the team dispersed—still grinning and muttering teasing remarks—I turned to Aaron. He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and affection, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as he took my hand.

“You’re never going to hear the end of this, you know,” I teased.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “As long as you’re safe, I don’t care.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” I said softly.

Aaron’s eyes warmed as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too.”

And just like that, the secret was out—but as I watched him walk me to my car, his team still watching us with curious smiles, I realized I didn’t mind one bit.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

shots fired | s.r. x fem liaison!reader (inspired by 3x09. mentions of vomit, blood)

“nobody move! or a bullets going through this pretty head.”

you could feel large drops of sweat gliding down your temples, breath exhaling shakey as if that could pull the trigger of the gun that was digging into your skin. along with the fact many fbi agents were also pointing their guns towards you, many trying to get a shot of your capture without bringing you harm.

you scanned the room, emily and derek held their arms steady with laser focus, hotch was outside his office door with his arms held tight paired with his stoney expression. penelope and jj were hidden somewhere and spencer, spencer was staring at you with the most heart wrenching gaze. his mouth slightly agape with his thin brows pinched tight, a hand hovering over his weapon.

the hot tears warmed your cheeks, “spence…” whispering his name to yourself. you didn’t want him here, if you were to die tonight you don’t want this to be your last memory of each other and to traumatize him indefinitely. you wished it to be of the two just laying in your bed this morning as you watched him do his daily cross word in record time, you kissed his cheek as the reward.

“you don’t want to do this man,” derek spoke, “the repercussions for this will be severe. don’t do something stupid.”

the man behind you huffed, “not something for me to worry about. first i’m gonna need this one to get me access into the document room and all of you are gonna sit tight in here, unless they’re willing to have blood on their hands.” your capture roughly shook your body, “get mov-“

there was a loud noise then a warmth coating the the side of your face, a heavy weight dragging off your figure then down to the floor. with a ragged breath and stunned eyes you glanced towards your feet, dark red-

“sweetheart, hey just look at me.” hands cupped your cheeks and gently turned your attention away from the scene to connect with darting brown eyes. spencer ducked his head down trying to catch your dazed look. “just focus on me. take deep breaths.”

his words were muffled, his touch burning against your frozen skin. “spen-“ barely able to say his name before needing to run towards a trash can and throw up the contents from your stomach. heaves and whimpers mixed together as fellow agents walked around to assess the situation.

a hand caught up your hair and rubbed circles along your shoulder blades, “just let it out.” you had one more heave in you then you tied up the bag before allowing yourself to lean against spencer’s comforting body. he tucked your head into his neck while you tried to monkey hold him, wanting him close as possible.

“your safe now. your safe.” mumbling the words for your sake just as much for spencer’s. it feels different to be in this type of situation in your work environment, they shouldn’t be able to get past security and past multiple armed agents. while out in the field it’s the unsubs territory, their playground and your the outsider.

“i-i didn’t want you to-to see it.” stuttering through the panicked hiccups. spencer’s fingers carded through the hair beside your ear, “see what?” he whispered in your crown.

“my death.” barely audible, a whisper of air leaving your tongue. but spencer heard, his body shifted and he moved so he was directly in your eye-line, hands cupping your cheeks. he wiped away something wet, “it never would have come to that. we would have found an opening, thankfully his back was to the door and jj took her shot.”

you sniffled, “i didn’t want to leave you,” trembling fingers reaching to grasp onto spencer’s sweater. “i-i don’t-what i’d-“ your breathing picked up as your mind raced.

“sweetheart, don’t think about that. just listen to my voice and feel the fabric of my sweater. you need to ground yourself, the adrenaline is fading and you’re hitting a fast crash. okay, count to five with me.”

“one.” “o-one.”

“two.” “t-t-two.”

“three.” “…three.”

“four.” a deep exhale, “four.”

spencer inhaled, “five.” you exhaled, “five.” feeling your head dip from exhaustion. spencer kept you pressed to him, taking on your weight. praying to a thousand gods he doesn’t believe for this miracle they granted him.

[kimpossibly]

little spencer reid drabble to get me out of a multi-month writing slump!!

warnings/tags: spencer reid x reader, established/secret relationship, swearing, r uses she/her pronouns

summary: after a situation out in the field leaves y/n temporarily blind, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a secret.

"Here she is!"

Y/N could practically feel the hush that fell over the room as JJ wheeled her into the office. The thick bandage covering both eyes ensured that she couldn't very well see it. She did her best to give her most realistic Y/N smile to put them at ease. "Are you guys happy to see me or what? You're gonna have to tell me, cause if you didn't notice, I can't really see..."

She heard a few relieved laughs (thank god) and a mutter of "smartass" from Morgan. Suddenly she felt the comforting presence of Penelope beside her as she took one of her hands. "Can I hug you? I just wanna hug you."

Y/N laughed. "You can hug me, Garcia."

With only a little effort, Y/N stood from her wheelchair. Almost instantly she was engulfed by a classic Garcia hug—it was a little less frantic and intense than usual, but that, she assumed, was attributed to her current state of blindness.

Garcia pulled away and there was a moment of tense silence before her Disney princess-like voice asked, "Are you...is it permanent?"

"No," Y/N said with a shake of her head. "The surgery went really well and this is just the standard recovery process. I have weekly check-ups, but other than that, these bandages need to stay for at least a month."

"A month?" Derek repeated from somewhere on her left. "We're not gonna have you in the field for a month?"

"Oh relax, Derek. I'm sure you'll find somebody else to beat in arm wrestling for a bit."

There was a bit of uneasy laughter at that, but the reality was a bit too disheartening for anyone to really be genuine about it. Y/N hadn't taken more than a week off in her time with the BAU, and that was only due to an emergency. She'd be gone for longer than she'd ever been—and without her sight, no less.

"But who's going to take care of you?" Garcia said, sounding a bit like a worried grandmother. "You can't be alone at home all...blind! Do you have someone who can stay with you?"

Before Y/N can answer, Spencer's voice came from somewhere on her right. "I am."

There was another hush, and this time Y/N was almost glad that she couldn't see everyone's faces. She could hear her heart hammering in her chest. JJ was the first to speak following the announcement of this information. "Spence?"

"What? Her grandma can't make it into town and I've done extensive reading on the recovery process for this—"

"But you're just going to go back and forth between your apartment and hers for a month? Isn't that, like, an hour long drive?"

Spence didn't have a quick answer for that, so Y/N finally forced out the truth. "We live together."

Once again, silence. Emily spoke first. "What? Since when?"

"Three months and fourteen days ago," Spencer said. "But we've been together for seven months and eight days."

Now all Y/N could do was plaster on an innocent smile as she stared (hopefully) into space. "Surpriiiiiiiiise."

Then came the uproar. Penelope and JJ shouted questions at the same time, Rossi seemingly swore in Italian, Morgan muttered some kind of threat towards the both of them. Y/N found her head darting left and right as she tried to find some particular sound to focus on. A comforting hand rested on her shoulders and she recognized it instantly as Spencer. She put her hand atop his and waited out the colossal wave of shock and awe from the rest of the team.

"Hey, hey!" Y/N shouted to get their attention. They quieted down and she pursed her lips. "Look, I know you've all been suspecting it anyway—we're just confirming your suspicions! Not that we have much of a choice..."

"Seven months? You kept this from us for seven months!" Garcia exclaimed—not mad, just surprised. Maybe a bit exasperated.

Spencer let out a little laugh. "Hotch knew!"

Y/N practically felt it as all heads turned to Hotch, who just shrugged. "They wanted to keep it a secret."

And then, of course, the screaming was directed at Hotch, who willingly took the brunt of it and began to guide the outraged hoard of co-workers in a different direction. Y/N heard their voices diminish as they followed him towards the other side of the office. She blew out a large breath, laughing in relief. She let her head fall to her hands, running her fingers through her hair. “Should’ve expected that kind of reaction.”

“Why are they so surprised?” Spencer said. She could practically picture the confused knot between his brows. “Garcia and Morgan already had a bet that we were dating.”

“I think it was the whole ‘we’ve been living together for three months’ thing that really got them.”

“Hm. Possibly.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, tilting her head back in the general direction of where Spencer stood. “Make me a coffee? I would do it myself, but, you know, I can’t see.”

She heard him laugh quietly and felt a little flutter in her stomach. She always felt that way when she made him laugh.

“How long are you going to use that excuse?” he said, already pushing her chair in the direction of the coffee station.

“As long as it applies,” she replied. “Or until I become Matt Murdock and have superhuman coffee-making abilities.”

“Matt Murdock has radar senses.”

“Still probably allows him to make his own coffee.”

They came to a stop and she heard Spencer shuffling around to make coffee.

“Hey,” she said, blindly stretching a hand out.

Within a second, Spencer’s hand found hers. “What do you need?”

She removed her hand away from his, searching all the way up his arm until she found his tie, pulling him in closer. Within an instant her lips caught his in a slightly off-kilter manner—she kissed the corner of his mouth, really. He adjusted quickly despite his surprise at the sudden action. His instincts told him to pull away, to reduce any risk that anyone saw, but there was nothing to hide anymore. So he kissed her back for a brief moment before breaking apart, a small smile on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked, their faces still inches apart.

Y/N just shrugged, a smile on her lips. “I just realized I could do that. So I did.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

She released his tie and let him get back to making coffee, not needing her sight to see the smile on his face.

[hotchner-edu]

Hi! I saw you take requests and I love the way you write Aaron— the runner's stamina drabble was just *chef's kiss*. I was wondering if you could write a fluffy one shot where reader falls asleep on Hotch's shoulder while on the jet ride home from a case, and he secretly kinda thinks it's adorable even though the rest of the team teases him about it? :')

Sleepy Days (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

A small frown tugs at your lips as you rest your eyes for a second, feeling the alluring arms of sleep wrapping themselves around you. All the noise in the jet seems to drift further and further away as you are enveloped in darkness, nestled in the comfort that slumber was tempting you with.

You've been nodding off for well over ten minutes now, head tipping forward toward the table like an unrestrained bowling ball, catching the keen attention of your unit chief.

Aaron was sitting in the chair beside yours, having noticed your fatigue since the jet took off. He made a note to slide away the open book in front of you to mark the page, knowing you'd be annoyed with yourself if you lost your spot while falling asleep.

You were on the brink of completely slipping off the edge of consciousness now, and you could only curse your own inattentiveness for your predicament. The team's latest case had them flying out to Las Vegas, but instead of ending on a high note with popping bottles and slot machines, you ended up catching a small cold while surrounded by plumes of cigarette smoke.

It was to your luck that JJ always carried around medicine and first-aid supplies in her go-bag. Unluckily, you had grabbed a deceivingly orange bottle of cough syrup from her bag thinking it was DayQuil, not realizing it was honey-flavored NyQuil until it was already too late.

As you succumb to your sleepiness, the last thing trailing across your mind is the absolute pain you're going to have in your neck when you wake up.

Aaron can tell that you're no longer awake anymore from the way your shoulders completely sag down, and how your face melts into a relaxed expression— one that he can't help but steal another glance at. He leans over to insert your bookmark into your book, eyebrows jumping up in surprise when he feels your head tilting and falling onto his shoulder.

A hint of a smile crawls onto his face at the feeling of you leaning against him, and he has to ignore the heat creeping up his neck as he subtly scoots closer to you to let you rest easier on him.

The words on the file in front of him start to meld together as he isn't able to draw his focus away from the feeling of your warm body beside his.

"Hotch." Derek's voice grabs his attention, the other man's sharp whisper tinged with a bit of amusement. "You're a softy at heart, huh? C'mon, admit it."

Aaron raises an eyebrow and frowns at him, shaking his head. "You'd do the same."

Derek shrugs at that, still smiling as he puts his headphones back on. To Aaron's misfortune, the small exchange caught the attention of the rest of the team, and while Spencer is polite enough to just smile softly and continue playing chess with himself, the others are immediately smirking at him.

"Want me to take a picture?" Dave teases him quietly, barely suppressing a chuckle as he looks at you both fondly. "Who knows when it'll happen again."

"Yeah, I'll bet the mortification will be too much." Emily jokes softly, glancing at your slumped figure with a grin. Aaron knew she was right about that, he knew you'd be a bit embarrassed about falling asleep on your boss, and would probably be conscious about distance going forward.

JJ shakes her head and stirs her tea, chiming in with a lingering smile. "Let's not say anything about this. I already feel guilty about the whole NyQuil thing."

"Yeah, JJ, why honey?" Emily mumbles with a small snort, directing her attention to her blonde friend as they begin to engage in hushed conversation.

Dave snaps a photo of you and Aaron with a proud smile, probably already thinking of sticking it in his secret scrapbook.

"Dave." Aaron warns the older man with no actual heat. He puts his hands up and backs off with a smile, looking down to his phone again and typing on it.

Aaron has to suppress the small smile threatening to appear on his face, grateful for his team's high spirits despite their teasing. He looks back down to your peaceful face, unable to stop his eyes from tracing around your delicate features.

He's only drawn away from his gazing when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Drawing the device out from his suit pocket, he looks down at the notifications with an unimpressed frown.

Dave: *sent 1 photo*

Dave: stop drawing it out and just go get dinner together.

[benevolentbones]

Part two to the clumsy au?

clumsy | spencer reid x reader part 2

part 1 | part 3

warnings: clumsiness (obviously) just fluff

word count: 1.2k

a/n: thank you for your support on part 1! i hope you enjoy<3 maybe i’ll write a part 3!

spencer released his hold on you, making sure you had your footing before the two of you scrambled onto the jet. everyone was seated for takeoff so you quickly plopped yourself down on the couch, spencer taking a seat beside you.

the flight was around three and a half hours give or take, and as the team were already fully briefed, there was no work to be done on the plane. spencer pulled out a book from his to go bag and began scanning the pages.

you took this as an opportunity to get some well needed sleep, you shifted your position on the couch, kicking off your shoes and stretching your legs over spencer’s lap. the hazel eyed man didn’t even flinch, he turned another page in his book before letting his hand rest against your calf.

you cuddled down into the couch, hooking one of the cushions under your arm and within five minutes you were out like a light.

spencer continued flicking through his book, every so often casting his hazel eyes on your sleeping form as you stirred slightly.

you shifted in your sleep, adjusting your position so that now your feet were once where your head was, and your head rested gently against spencer’s lap.

how you managed to do this and not wake up was beyond spencer.

“i need to get a picture of this.” morgan chuckled out, the tall male now standing in front of the couch with his phone in hand.

spencer had migrated his arm to rest on your shoulder, in a protective manner, his book still secure in his other hand.

his eyes met with derek and he gave the older man a sarcastic smile.

“don’t worry pretty boy, i’ll send it to you.” he winked before snapping a photo and shuffling to the other end of the jet.

once the plane landed you began to wake up, rubbing your eyes to escape the sleep, spencer was still at your side and he shot you a small smile, closing his book.

“good morning sleeping beauty, ready to do some work?” you heard derek call out from across the jet, as the team began to assemble their respective belongings before exiting the plane.

your cheeks flushed as you got up, slipping your shoes back on.

“thanks for letting me sleep on you, you’re very comfortable.”

“was no problem.” spencer replied, walking out of the jet.

~

it was cold. that’s all you could think about as the team worked into the night. everyone had set up in the local police station, running through case files and attempting to put a profile together for the unsub.

hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows furrowing as he scanned page after page. it was nearing one in the morning and he could tell the team was starting to lose focus.

“alright, let’s head to the hotel. we can resume in the morning.” he announced, earning nods from everyone.

the team piled into a car which drove to the nearest hotel, hotch handed out keycards to the rooms and everyone said their goodnights.

you shuffled down the hall, to go bag slung over your shoulder with spencer following beside you.

derek was about ten doors down and emily, hotch and jj were one floor up. and as it turned out, spencer and you were one room apart.

spencer came to a stop outside his door, leaning against the wooden frame as you stumbled with your keycard.

“i’ll see you in the morning, y/n. sleep well.” he mumbled in a hushed tone as to not wake up people in nearby rooms.

“night spence.” you whispered back, finally pushing your door open and walking into your room.

spencer ran a hand through his dark locks, letting out a small sigh before retreating into his room.

you adjusted the bag strap on your shoulder, looking around the room. it was nice, there was a double bed positioned in the centre of the room, the oakwood headboard pressed snug against the wallpaper. there was a small desk to the right which was made of the same wood as the bed frame, and a tv mounted on the wall.

there was another door to your right, which you assumed to be the bathroom.

“mm a shower would be great right now.” you mumbled to yourself, walking into the bathroom. you switched the light on, dropping your to go bag at your feet and turned on the shower to let the water heat up.

spencer had collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. in all honesty, he missed you. he enjoyed being around you, he liked that you felt comfortable enough around him to sleep on him during the flight. and in the last few weeks of knowing you, he had fallen for you.

he shook the thoughts of you from his mind, rolling over in his bed attempting to get some sleep. he was just drifting off until rhythmic knocking caught his attention.

spencer sat up, running a hand over his face before ambling over to the door. the door creaked open, revealing no other than you.

you muttered out a small “hi” folding your arms around your torso. you were drenched, head to toe, still in your clothes from earlier. your shirt practically stuck to your skin, droplets of water hung from your face.

“y/n- what happened?” concern lacing spencer’s voice.

“the pipe broke…in the shower.” you paused running a hand through your wet hair. “all the towels and my bag- got wet.” you gave him an awkward smile, rocking back and forth on your feet.

without another word spencer ushered you into his hotel room, you stood in the doorway as you watched him get a fresh towel from the bathroom.

you had never seen him look so, casual, but then again he was wearing his pyjamas. these consisted of a plain black tshirt and grey sweatpants.

“here, you can go into the bathroom and dry off, i’ll give you something to wear.” he mumbled, averting your gaze as he didn’t want to stare too long at how form fitting your clothes became when wet.

“thanks.”

spencer walked over to his bag, digging around for a spare set of anything you could wear. he opted for a rather baggy hoodie and his spare pj pants.

“i’m leaving them by the door, y/n. come out when you’re ready.” he affirmed, going back to sit on his bed.

a few minutes later you emerged from the bathroom, your hair was still a little damp and the hoodie came down to your mid thigh.

“sorry about all of this, i know i’m a bit of a handful.” you let out a shy chuckle, wandering over to spencer’s bed and taking a seat beside the taller man.

“no it’s no problem really… i actually like the hoodie on you.” he gave you a smile which made your face heat up.

“anyway…i don’t mean to be keeping you up so i’ll see you in the morning.” you mumbled out, beginning to stand up.

words flooded out of spencer’s mouth before he could even think.

“why don’t you stay here, with me?” immediately his face flushed a bright shade of pink. “or-like you can go it’s- you don’t have to.”

a small giggle escaped your lips, you placed a hand on spencer’s forearm.

“i’d like that spence.”

taglist: @0108s22m

[shelbgrey]

Lovin', touchin', squeezin' (Derek Shepherd)

Paring: Derek shepherd x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Derek finds out his girlfriend hasn't been properly taken care of in past relationships and it's up to him to help her explore pleasures she hasn't before.

Warrings: SMUT, very little plot, oral(F receiving), (M)cum eating, unprotected sex, little bit of ridding. The words pussy and cock used. Dirty talk.

MasterList ML2

It was late in the evening, Derek was in his trailer with his girlfriend. They had just finished a shift at the hospital and she decided to stay at his place for the night. Her cousin Meredith was going through another one-night-stand phase and she didn't want to be at their place while she had a guy there. His trailer was outside of the city and in the woods so it was peaceful. While Derek was in the shower y/n was turning on some music, sometimes the peacefulness of the 'great outdoors' was a little too quiet. She had decided to play some Elvis, some of his more softer stuff to keep the vibe on the more relaxed side. She kept it on a pretty low volume then got comfortable on the side of the bed she claimed a few months into their relationship.

“You've already made yourself comfortable huh?”

Derek stepped out of the shower, his hair still damp and his skin smelling of soap. He walked to side trailer were the bed was, rubbing his head with a towel. He noticed the music playing softly and a smirk spread across his face as he saw her sitting on the side of the bed.

“Yeah” y/n gave an innocent grin as she shamelessly checked him out as he dried the rest the way of, he was only in a pair of boxers and his skin slightly damp.

Derek tossed the towel somewhere onto the floor as he walked over to the foot of the bed. “It seems like you're enjoying yourself... wearing my clothes and using my bed”

The clothes she had worn to work were laying neatly on the counter and she traded them for a pair of his boxers and a sports bra. She smirked up at him, lying comfortably under the covers of his bed. “You have such great hospitality”

Derek chuckled as he crawled onto the bed, hovering over her with a mischievous grin. “Well, I aim to please. Especially when it comes to my beautiful girlfriend”

“You always succeed” y/n smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck and spread her thighs as he settled between her thighs. He nuzzled her neck and peppered kisses along her collarbone. His hands roamed over her body possessively, fingers trailing along her sides and over her thighs. “I think I can do even better” His voice dipped low, and he leaned down to place soft kisses along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts.

Y/n shuttered at the feeling of his lips and scruff brushing against her neck. She carded her fingers through his hair, letting out a small moan that only Encouraged him. He slid his hands underneath the sports bra, slowly pushing it up and off her body. Derek tossed it onto the floor with the towel, his focus solely on her.

Derek nipped at the exposed skin, his hands caressing her curves. Her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers gripping his hair as he continued his descent down her body. Derek slipped his fingers into the waistband of his boxers she wore. Y/n lifting her hips as he slowly pulled them down her legs. Once she was completely bare underneath him, Derek settled back between her thighs, his face nestled between her legs. Derek breathed in deeply, savoring her scent before pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

Her break got caught in her throat. “Derek…” she warned softly, tugging at his hair.

He looked up at her, their eyes meeting before her returned his gaze to her core. He pressed another kiss to her thigh before spreading her legs further apart. “Shh, just relax, y/n. Let me take care of you” he whispered against her skin, sending goosebumps over her body.

“I know,” she said softly, completely trusting him. “I just... Never had this happen before” she looked away, embarrassed. Yeah she had a relationship in the past, but she never had a guy eat her out or take care of her like this before.

Derek paused, looking up at her with a gentle expression. Heplaced a soft kiss on her lower belly. “a guy has never eaten you out before?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow in a non judgmental way.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “no” she was far from a Virgin and she's done other stuff both in her previous relationship and with Derek, she just never had a guy put his mouth on her pussy before.

A mischievous grin spread across Derek's face. “Well then,” he lowered his head back down, pressing a soft kiss to her center before slowly dragging his tongue up her slit, making her eyes flutter closed and her head fell back in pleasure. She fisted his hair, moaning.

“I suppose it's high time someone took care of that for you” Derek murmured against her skin. He continued his exploration of her most intimate area. He parted her folds with his fingers, exposing her clit as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud. He alternated between broad, flat licks and pointed flicks, each touch making her moan louder.

The sounds of her pleasure spurred him on. Derek hooked his arms under her thighs, spreading her wider as he buried his face between her legs. His tongue speared into her hot, wet center, pumping in and out as he growled against her flesh.

“D-Derek!” y/n moaned, a shiver going through her body as she tugged at his hair, arching her hips up.

Derek growled possessively, his hands tightening on her thighs as he devoured her. His tongue thrust in and out of her, his facial hair chafing her sensitive flesh. He could feel her getting close, her breath hitching and her legs were shaking under his grip. “That's it, baby”

“Ah! D-derek” y/n moaned desperately, arching her hips up as Derek lifted one of her thighs over his shoulder. “f-fuck” she stuttered, her head falling back against the pillow in pleasure as she fisted his hair.

Derek angled his head to suck her clit into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly with his tongue as he slid two fingers deep inside her fluttering channel, making her cry out in pleasure. Derek pumped them hard and fast, curling them to hit that special spot inside her.

“Derek, I'm c-close” she stuttered.

Derek redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he finger fucked her mercilessly. He felt her legs start to tremble and her hips buck against his face, signaling her impending orgasm. Derek held her steady, refusing to let up until she exploded. “Come on, Baby, let it happen”

“Derek!” y/n cried out, tugging his hair as her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks.

Derek drank down every drop of her sweet release, his fingers still pumping in and out of her. He continued to lap at her clit, prolonging her orgasm until she was trembling and sobbing with pleasure. “Fuck, y/n. you taste amazing”

“D-Derek” y/n shuttered, gripping his hair, arching her hips again as she came down from her high. When she was finally spent, Derek lifted his face from her pussy, his lips and chin glistening with her juices. Derek kissed her inner thigh softly.

Y/n shuttered, her eyes fluttered closed as her heart pounded against her chest. She moaned softly, her thighs still over his shoulder as his lips and scruff brushed against her thighs. His hands caressed her skin soothingly as he slowly lowered her thighs back down. He climbed up her body, caging her in between his arms. He kissed her slowly, deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue.

Y/n moaned desperately against his lips, their tongues tangling together. She carded her fingers through his messy hair as their lips and tongues moved desperately against each other. Derek poured all his desire and affection into it. His hands roamed her curves possessively, mapping every inch of her soft skin.

Y/n pulled away, her head falling back against his pillow as she tried to catch her breath. “f-fuck,” she whispered breathlessly. “hang on” she said softly, blissfully out of breath between her getting eaten out for the first time and the way their lips desperately moved together.

Derek chuckled softly at her breathless state, nuzzling her neck as he trailed kisses down her throat. He nipped at her collarbone, grinning against her skin as he felt her shudder. “Hang on to what, sweetheart? Did I take your breath away?” he teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, catching her breath. “Shut up” she teased, breathlessly.

Derek grinned mischievously, his hands sliding down to her backside and squeezing. “You're right, talking's overrated”

Y/n scoffed playfully, rolling her eyes. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him on his back, straddling his hips. “gotta be a smart ass, don't you?” she joked.

Derek chuckled, grinning up at her. “can't help it sometimes” he flexed his hips, pressing his hardness against her soaking core, making her cry out a moan, her head falling back and her hips arching. He grinned up at her, his hands squeezing her ass.

Derek flexed his hips again, grinding against her. He reached up and cupped her breasts, kneading the soft mounds. He toyed with her hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Derek sat up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against him. His erection pressed against her soaked core as she moaned, cupping both sides of his jaw and brushed her nose against his as their lips hovered over each other.

Derek's breath mingled with hers as their lips hovered a mere whisper apart. He could feel her wet heat pressing against his aching cock, making him throb with need. He nipped her bottom lip, his voice low and husky. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, y/n. Until you're so sore you can barely sit. And then I'm going to do it all over again” he kissed her fiercely, his hands gripping her hips as he aligned his cock with her entrance.

Y/n pulled away before he could continue. “I thought talking was overrated” she teased.

Derek grinned wolfishly, thrusting up into her in one swift movement, forcing a moan out of y/n as she dig her nails into his shoulders as she sunk down on him. Derek buried himself balls deep inside her, his mouth covering her as she let out a cry of pleasure and pain. He stilled, giving her time to adjust. “God, Baby”

“Fuck,” y/n moaned, rocking her hips and holding his shoulders for balance. “Derek!” she moaned desperately.

Derek groaned deeply, his hips bucking upwards to meet hers. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, his hands gripping her ass possessively. He broke the kiss, his breath hot against her neck as he panted. “You're so tight”

“Derek!” y/n cried out, rocking her hips faster, meeting his thrust.

Derek grinned against her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin. “That's it, y/n. scream my name. Let everyone know who's inside you right now” Derek thrust up into her hard, his hips slamming against hers. “Fuck, you're so fucking tight”

“Ah, Derek” y/n arched her hips, carding and through his hair as he buried his face into her breasts.

Derek moaned into her breasts. His hands tightened on her bottom, helping her move as he thrust up into her hard and fast. The sound of their bodies slapping against each other filled the room, mingling with our moans and heavy breathing. Derek licked and sucked at her breasts, his tongue swirling around her nipples as he continued to pound into her. He could feel her walls starting to flutter around his cock. “D-Derek, Baby. I'm close” she moaned desperately.

Derek looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. “That's it, baby. Cum for me”

“Derek!” y/n screamed, cumming on his cock. Derek grunted, his movements becoming jerky as he buried his face back in her breasts. He bit down gently as he found his own release, spurting warm seed inside her. He relaxed against her, breathing heavily. “fuck”

Y/n moaned, fisting his hair as she came down from her high. Derek stayed buried in her chest, his heart pounding against her skin. After a few moments, he lifted his head, his eyes soft and full of love. “I love you… So much”

“I love you too” she said softly, pressing her lips to his as they fell back into the bed. He slowly pulled out, the friction making her moan softly.

“Let's get you cleaned up” He kissed her cheek then stood up and walked to the bathroom, returning with a warm, damp cloth to clean her up tenderly. She moaned softly at the sensitively, making him smile softly as. He gently wiped her clean, his touch light and caring. As he finished, he threw the cloth aside and spread her legs, admiring her rosy, swollen state. He leaned down and placed a soft, chaste kiss on her inner thigh before he moved up to lie beside her, gathering her in his arms protectively and pulling the covers over both of them. He gently adjusted the covers to ensure they were comfortable, his hand resting on her hip possessively. “Sleep now, my love. You've earned it”

[rainydayathogwarts]

Emily finds out - Spencer Reid

You rubbed your eyes with the back of your fist, watching as Spencer nodded, his phone held up to his ear. His deep morning voice - if you can even call it the morning yet - echoed in the small room as he briefly answered Hotch's words. You hit your head back against Spencer's pillow, ignoring the rustle in the room of him pulling clothes from the closet and waiting to get the same call from your boss. When your phone finally rung, you threw your hand out onto the bedside table, blindly fishing for it. You brought it back against your ear with a groan, lazily answering the call.

"We've got an urgent case, head to the office now please L/N, me and Rossi are already on it." And with that, he hung up the phone, ignoring the groan of acknowledgement you had let out. He was more brief than he had been with your boyfriend, and was clearly already getting sick of the day. You rolled on your back, watching your boyfriend pull his pants over his hips before kicking your legs over the side of his bed and leaning down to grab your trousers, mimicking Spencer's movements. You briefly glance at the clock, 4:08 am. "You should probably go, I'll take my car and follow you out once I'm ready. It'll seem suspicious otherwise." You tell him, pulling the same black top you wore the day before over your head. Spencer moves to stand between your legs and softly puts both his hands on your jaw so you can look up at him and he leans down for a quick yet sweet kiss.

He rushes out through the door obediently, looking back at you one last time to take a glance at you staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to tame down your hair. Spencer leaves his apartment keys in the keyhole, trusting you to lock his apartment door twice and bring him the keys later. You make your way out of the apartment and into your car, parking in the basement of the building only 20 minutes later. You sigh, gathering your things and rushing up to the elevator.

No one is in the bullpen when you arrive, so you make your way to the debriefing room, hitting your hip against the doorknob when you enter. You groan, wincing, but make your way into one of the chairs around the circular table nonetheless. Of course, it's Derek who makes the first comment on your appearance when you enter. "Damn sweetheart didn't think you'd be the one to show up in last night's outfit." Spencer, who sits next to Derek, furrows his eyebrows. "What he means is she was over at someone else's having sex." Emily tries to whisper at him from across the table, but everyone hears the comment she makes and you scoff, lightly slapping her arm.

"Hey I wouldn't be if I had some earlier notice." You argue, opening the files in front of you. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Agent L/N came prepared when we asked her to and is immediately on task, unlike the rest of you. She'd have wasted our time by going home to change." Hotch's deep, usually grumpy voice comes out with a hint of amusement and you nod your head as the others go back to work with smirks on their faces.

"Jareau, catch L/N up on what she's missed - everyone wheels up in thirty." After JJ does catch you up, the room starts to file out, eventually leaving you and Spencer alone. You widen your eyes at him in amusement and he chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly redder than usual. You shuffle the chair you're in until you're sat next to your boyfriend and you press a kiss on his cheek before digging through your bag. He stands up in the meantime, thinking you've changed your focus to something else but call out for him "Spencer, wait!" He turns back to look at you and you hold out his house keys with an eyebrow raised. "Don't want Morgan finding me with those." But then not even a second later, Emily is rushing back into the room, grabbing her phone.

"My bad!" She pants, about to leave the room, but she abruptly stops upon seeing a flash of movement, and then the looks on your faces. Spencer looks like he's been caught dealing drugs and you on the other hand look surprised yet slightly amused with your eyes wide and arms still by your sides. She takes a moment to profile you, taking note of how Spencer's house keys are now in his hand, which he'd been trying to slyly shove in his pocket. She looks confused, but starts walking, muttering a quiet "After you." To Spencer before she steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.

She stares at you, her jaw slack, and slowly raises her pointer finger at you. "You- he's the- oh my gosh you have to tell me everything."

[shojizbae]

Mothers Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.

Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.

"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep

"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off

"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."

"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."

"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."

"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."

"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods

"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.

"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.

"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.

"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."

"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."

"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.

"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.

"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."

"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.

"That's good."

"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.

"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"

"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.

Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.

"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.

"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"

"Me and my frie-"

"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."

"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."

"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.

"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.

"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.

"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself

"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"

"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.

"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"

"No,"

"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles

"Mom, I think that's enough."

"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.

"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"

"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.

"I'm trying, Mom," he whined

"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses

"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"

"No, ma'am."

"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.

"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me

"Well, then, date my Spencer."

"Mom!" he protested

"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.

"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated

Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.

"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.

"Would you object to a date?"

"Tonight?"

"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"

"You want to do that?"

"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles

"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part four

(Yes I'm posting another one don't look at me) Happy New Year's Eve everyone! Another treat for the holidays from me as I keep writing at the speed of light xxx

Warnings: angst angst angst!

When you get downstairs to the hotel lobby in the morning, Hotch thinks it’s time to play twenty-fucking-questions.

“Did you sleep?”

You give him a weird look. This is question number seven. “I took a nap. I’m fine.” Never mind the fact that Hotch doesn’t look like he slept a wink. He probably stayed awake, mulling over files all night.

“How much did you smoke?” he asks. Number eight.

Behind you, Derek joins in as he walks up with coffee. “You bought cigarettes? We talked about this.”

“Can both of you get off my dick?” you laugh, trying to hide how annoyed and uncomfortable this is making you. “We have a missing girl. Shouldn’t we focus on that? Can we go?”

“Does everyone have what they need?” Hotch asks, though he’s already moving toward the door. His phone lights up in his hand and he takes it, muttering, “This is Agent Hotchner.”

You all wait anxiously for Hotch to finish the call, but continue walking toward the parking lot. It’s not until you’re nearly at the cars that the call ends, and Hotch begins speed walking.

“That was the sheriff,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Richard Monroe turned himself in five minutes ago.”

“What?” you blurt, hopping in the passenger seat of Hotch’s car without thinking. You see Derek get in the backseat and think thank god someone else got in. “Does he have Lila?” As much as you hate Hotch’s view of this case, you still feel the need to ask.

“No,” Hotch says, and you feel a spark of pride in yourself. “He claims to not know where she is.”

You groan, but it’s cut off by a surprised yelp as Hotch speeds onto the main road, putting the lights on, and squealing the tires. You reach up for the safety bar, holding on for dear life as Hotch races to the precinct.

+++

Richard Monroe looks like a ghost.

He spends the first few minutes of the interrogation asking Morgan where Lila is. And when Morgan finally says “we don’t know,” Richard starts to cry.

“Hotch…” you shake your head, looking away. “He’s telling the truth. He doesn’t have her.”

Hotch stays silent, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Richard and Morgan. “Or he’s playing a game.”

“Can you be serious for one second?” 

Hotch doesn’t even turn his head to look at you. Instead, you get a glare from the corner of his eye. “I am being serious.”

“We need to ask him if he knows anyone that might pose as him,” you press. 

Hotch ignores you.

Morgan stands and leaves the interrogation room, coming out to stand next to you and Hotch. “He’s distraught, man.”

“Because he doesn’t have her,” you insist. “Let me talk to him.”

“No,” Hotch says.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“Because I don’t need to,” Hotch replies, still cold. “You don’t have clearance.”

“Clearance?”

“Hotch, what does that even mean?” Morgan butts in, surprising you. “It can’t hurt, man. I think he needs someone in there that’s not me or you. He’s just going to get angry if you walk in there.”

“Exactly,” you nod in agreement. “He needs to feel in control again. So let me.”

Hotch takes a moment to at least think about it, and then he says, “Go.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Go before I change my mind.”

You smile. “Is there a box of tissues around?”

+++

You set the box of tissues in front of Richard Monroe, also giving him a cup of water. He keeps his head down, his fingers clenched together.

“Here,” you barely whisper. “I’m really sorry about my colleague. He can get a little…aggressive.”

Richard says nothing, but he does nod.

“I’m Agent L/N,” you begin. “I’m new. I just felt so bad for you, I had to come say something.” You pause, taking the seat across from him. “I’m really sorry about your daughter. We’re doing everything we can to find her. I know you had nothing to do with this.”

“I really didn’t,” he says. The words are as quiet as they are pitiful. “I wouldn’t. Not her.”

“I know,” you nod. You need to ask your next question. You just hope it won’t set him off again. “Do you know anyone who would?” 

He shakes his head, but doesn’t seem angry or upset. “No one knows about her. And if they do, they know not to fucking touch her.”

That sounds about right. “I understand,” you nod. “Is there anyone who would,” you pause and chuckle, playing up the dumb newbie act, “have ‘beef’ with you, so to speak? About anything?”

He looks up then, and grins. It makes your stomach turn. “They don’t live long enough.”

You lean into your startled reaction. You can see he’s opening up more and more with how vulnerable you let yourself seem. 

He grabs the cup of water and downs it in one go. “How new are you?”

“It’s my first day,” you reply sheepishly, making yourself smaller and smaller. “I’m not supposed to be in here, but I just felt so bad.”

“You’re a sweet girl,” Richard says, still with the same smile that makes you uneasy. It takes too long for you to realize that it’s the same crazed look your dad used to have. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing working for the FBI?”

“What’s someone like you doing turning yourself in to the FBI?” you counter. “I’ve heard about you, y’know.”

Richard leans back in his seat. “Yeah? What have you heard?”

“That you’ve gotten away with it all thus far,” you shrug. “Been completely off the FBI’s radar. So why’d you jump back on it now?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “How new did you say you were?”

You ignore him. He’s halfway onto you now anyway. “Surely it’s not just because your daughter has gone missing. You couldn’t possibly love her that m—”

He slams his hands on the table hard, and you almost jump, but you don’t move an inch. He stares at you, that same wild look you’ve seen before.

“You don’t scare me,” you say. “What’s the real reason you’re here?”

His left eye twitches. “Why do you look familiar?”

Your blood runs cold but you don’t show it. “Why are you avoiding my question?” You cross your arms over your chest. “I know you don’t give a shit about your ex-wife either, Richard, so what is it?”

“You think we’re all the same, don’t you?” he taunts. “That just because we do what we do means we can’t feel love.”

I know you can’t, you think. “Do you love your daughter?”

“Yes,” he answers instantly. Zero doubt. “And despite what my ex-wife tells you, I love her too. I just want to keep them safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“People like me,” he replies. “Who do you think?”

You stay silent for a moment. He’s studying your face in a way you don’t like. That’s your cue to leave.

You nod like you’ve figured him out and stand up, pushing your chair in. “Do you want more water?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrug, turning for the door.

“What’d you say your name was?”

You repeat it, knowing it will tell him nothing. There’s a reason you changed it. He seems dissatisfied as you expected because if your hunch is right about his, it wasn’t the surname he expected you to have.

He shouldn’t have expected you to keep the name. Lila probably won’t keep hers.

You return to the other room where Hotch is waiting and watching. His eyes follow you as you step inside, looking through the window at Richard.

“I’m not sure if any of that was remotely useful,” you admit. “But maybe he’ll be more amenable now. I seem to have caught him off guard.”

Hotch says nothing. And he won’t stop looking at you.

You sigh, turning to meet his eyes with a tired stare. You raise your eyebrows. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Why did he recognize you?”

You keep your expression neutral. “I don’t know, Hotch. Ask him. He’s the one in handcuffs.”

Hotch seems to accept your answer — or if he doesn’t, he doesn’t show it. You leave him to brood and head back into the conference room to help Reid. Rossi goes to join Hotch and you pointedly don’t think about how they’re probably talking about you.

+++

Richard must really love his daughter. He’s not happy to learn there’s someone posing as him on said chatting site, and that they convinced Lila to run away with them. 

He swears up and down that he’ll do anything to help find her. It makes you angrier than it should.

You’re not angry at him, not really. You know it’s misguided anger. You know who you’re really angry at. But you refuse to admit that to yourself, so instead you’re picking fights with your boss.

Although, in your opinion, Hotch started it.

“You’re seriously going to keep me from speaking to him just because he thinks he recognizes me?” You nearly roll your eyes at Hotch, but you stop yourself. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re being defensive,” Hotch points out, his arms crossed like he’s trying to prove a point. “What are you not telling me?”

“Why are you so interested?” you counter, crossing your arms too. You’re not trying to mock him, but if it comes across that way, then so be it. “Trying to get in my pants or something?”

Hotch’s gaze might as well be laced with fire. “Take a walk. Now.”

“Fuck off.”

“Agent—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You glare at him over your shoulder as you head for the doors of the precinct.

You shove the doors open with a huff, turning and walking to the left of the parking lot. You’re really wishing you didn’t leave the pack of cigarettes in your hotel room right about now.

What the hell is Hotch’s problem— No, what the hell is Richard’s problem? Why does he think he knows you? How is that even possible? 

You think back. Your dad would’ve been in his sixties now, pushing seventy. Richard is 54. The possibility that they knew each other is small, but still there, and not impossible like you’d prefer. The fact that the possibility is there at all is pissing you off.

You’re not stupid. You know this comes with the territory. You know this is what you get for testing fate like this. But there’s a reason you changed your name. There’s a reason your mom packed everything up and moved halfway across the country with you when you were a teenager. It was a new start, a new life. One where you had no ties to him. None.

So why does some random FBI’s Most Wanted act like he’s seen your face before? Has he? How?

“You’re gonna start a tornado if you keep turning in circles like that.”

“Not in the mood, Morgan,” you say calmly, despite the anger raging through you. “Sorry if he’s being a jackass.” You raise your hand and gesture to yourself, “My fault.”

Morgan scoffs. “Right.”

You shrug. As much as Hotch irritates the shit out of you, you’re well aware you bring it on yourself sometimes. It doesn’t help that he gets under your skin so easily and will have you firing off at any little thing. You bring it on yourself just as much as he starts it on his own.

You’re both at fault and neither of you will admit it. Ever. Over your dead body.

“Come back inside.”

“Can’t. I’ve been exiled.”

“Y/N,” Morgan tries again. “What’s going on?”

You stop pacing. “Nothing is going on.”

“Hotch told me the guy recognized you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hotch is paranoid.”

“Really? ‘Cause right now you’re looking just as paranoid.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying.”

“I know you are, but don’t, okay?” you all but plead. “Leave it alone. Please.”

Morgan tilts his head. He looks ready to do everything except leave it alone. “You’ll tell me if it’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you nod, meaning it. He’s dead, anyway, so it won’t be a problem. “But it’s really not. And I’m not paranoid, I’m just thinking. Well— Maybe I am paranoid. We need to find her.”

“We will,” Morgan says. “Now, come inside. We need everyone on deck.”

You can’t argue with that and you’re cooled down enough now, so you relent. “Alright.”

You follow Morgan back into the precinct and into the conference room with the rest of the team. You share a look and single nod with Hotch. A silent truce, for now. 

+++

Turns out, a serial killer like Richard does have a lot of enemies, including some who would jump at the chance to torment his daughter. Go figure.

They’re easier to narrow down and pinpoint once Richard actually starts to work with the team. Hotch struck a deal, apparently, to make his sentence lighter if he helps. No death penalty, but still life in prison, after all he’s done.

To your surprise, Richard is relieved about no death penalty. Because, he said, if there’s any chance his daughter will see him one day, he wants to be alive.

It sends a spark of anger through you so hot that you have to walk away. 

You spend the rest of the day with Reid, decoding messages, silently nodding back and forth, and chewing on as many pen caps as you can. It’s probably not good for your teeth, but neither of you care about that right now.

You’re both shocked out of your trances when Morgan comes flying into the room, Garcia on speakerphone, with Hotch and Prentiss right behind them. 

“I found her phone, I found it,” Garcia’s voice comes through the speaker. “Sending coordinates to everyone now.”

“Rossi and JJ are on it,” Hotch answers. “They’re already out.”

“It’s not moving, so it might be nothing,” Garcia says.

You worry for a moment that her phone is thrown in a bush somewhere. And then you feel sick to your stomach when Rossi confirms as much.

“They’re bringing it back here,” Hotch says, his phone still pressed to his ear. “It’s broken, like someone threw it out. Garcia, can you get me any and all CCTV footage in the area?”

“Already ahead of you, sir,” she replies. “Give me five.” The call ends abruptly, no doubt so she can focus and type faster.

“Should we tell Richard?” you ask. “He’s been cooperating, but this could be an extra push.”

Hotch studies you for a moment. “Fine. But wait until they bring the phone. Show it to him.” 

He gives you a look that just screams and if he recognizes you again, you’re out.