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strawbeerossi · 10 months

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Jealousy

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the team tracks down the unsub they are looking for, it’s up to reader to lure him out of the bar with nothing but her charm and charisma. Spencer however, just can’t stand watching it. He makes sure to make his feelings known to the reader later on.

Content Warnings: Post-Prison!Spencer, Jealous!Spencer, BAU!reader, case details, coarse language, Dom!Spencer, kinda mean!Spencer, sub!reader, possessiveness, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (F receiving), fingering, hair pulling, spitting, aftercare, fluff at the end

Word count: 3k

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Well, here it is! Can I technically call this ‘Jealousy (Taylor’s Version)(From the Vault)’ ?

Spencer approached Emily, his brow furrowed with concern, as he held a file tightly in his hands. "Emily, we need to talk about Y/N's undercover assignment. I've been analyzing the data, and there are some significant risks involved that we need to address before we even think of sending her out there.” he began, his voice laced with urgency.

Emily, her expression serious yet attentive, met Spencer’s gaze. "I understand your concerns, Reid, but we've already vetted this operation thoroughly. Y/N is well-prepared and capable of handling herself," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring.

It wasn’t matters of him thinking that Y/N wasn’t prepared, it was him being worried because this unsub was taking women who fit her image description and killing them after doing horrible things to them.

The male nodded, his worry still evident. "I know Y/N is skilled, but the circumstances surrounding this case are unusually complex. I just want to make sure we have contingency plans in place and that we're ready to support her in any way necessary," he explained, his analytical mind racing with potential scenarios. She could have a knife pulled on her and be forced out, this unsub could drug her by sticking her with something, he could kill her right there if he figured out she was a federal agent..

After being released from prison, Spencer became a different man. He used to be more composed, now however, he was more temperamental. It didn’t help that Y/N was his girlfriend, the need to protect her being obvious. Besides, who wants to see their partner talking with a man who was brutally stabbing women and doing horrible things to their corpses? Especially when each of those women could’ve been her twin. That put her in a high risk situation that wasn’t a guaranteed arrest.

“Reid,” The Unit Chief let one hand come up to rub her face, the woman being tired of the argument. She could understand the worry and frustration, however this was Y/N’s job that she’d been doing for a good six years now. She knew the stakes as well as what she could or couldn’t handle.

“I promise that we will have this covered. We have surveillance all over the bar. Alvez, Simmons, and you are going to be inside, close enough to stop anything if things go too far.” She stressed the details, the woman just being exhausted explaining her decision continuously. “You aren’t changing my mind. I need you to understand that this decision was made with Y/N. You need to let her do her job.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N walked into the dimly lit bar, her gaze looking around for Marcus Black, the man’s face still fresh in her mind from the picture that Penelope had sent her while she was on the way over to the location, the woman trying to mentally prepare herself for the mental gymnastics she’d have to go through for this. It was a common misconception that undercover missions were much easier than having to risk it by assuming who the unsub is and building off the profile.

Y/N would argue this is much harder. You have to stand in front of a person who did unspeakable things to others. You have to get close and personal, be able to hide that overwhelming feeling of being disgusted, nervous, and even terrified. This was a man who was definitely bigger than she was in every aspect, being able to take her down if he truly wanted to.

That didn’t stop her from flashing a bright smile at the bartender as she’d approached the bar, sitting in a bar stool while ordering a vodka tonic. Across the room, she could get a clear view of Matt Simmons, the man keeping his gaze fixated on her as he gave a nod once the two made direct eye contact.

She had a wire, the team could hear everything from the earpieces they all had in order to communicate with one another as well as communicate with her, even if she couldn’t very well respond in an obvious way.

Although as Y/N was lost in her thoughts, she could feel a presence beside her, one that oozed darkness. The vibe had dropped tremendously low, however Y/N needed to keep up a façade or all of this will go to shit, something the team definitely doesn’t need right now.

Especially when they could just taste the capture that was going to come. “Hi.” The woman spoke, a charming smile gracing her features while her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink.

Which as she had struck up a conversation, Spencer was quietly watching from the other end of the bar, nursing a full glass of some mixed drink in front of him just to avoid suspicion. He knew that she had to fake interest but that didn’t stop a heat rising in his chest, one associated with jealousy.

Seeing his girlfriend giving another man bedroom eyes, laughing at every word he said, even putting her hand on his upper arm was enough to make him seethe in his spot, hazel eyes focused on his girlfriend.

She was giggling, he could just hear it from his spot, probably telling him that she just couldn’t bare the thought of going home alone. He was just further pissing himself off thinking of the potential things she could be saying, not even tuning in to the actual dialogue because he knew it would’ve pissed him off much more than his own thoughts.

It was enough to make him clench his hand around the glass in his right hand. It was like his brain was trying to trick him into genuinely believing that Y/N was enjoying herself. He knew better, however the anger over the ‘what if’ had him shaking.

It reminded him of when he was in prison.

Y/N would come to visit him and it was one of the only things that got him through the hell, however the other inmates always had their comments. Saying explicit things about his angel, what they’d do to her given the chance to ever see her outside of those four cement walls. He wanted to keep his head down at the time but god damn, if this version of him was in prison, he would’ve been throwing fists and starting fights over his girlfriend, adding onto his sentence.

This was absolute fucking torture, Spencer’s leg bouncing in annoyance as he was using his opposite hand to put the earpiece in his ear, just in time to hear something that would have him absolutely livid. “I don’t think you could handle me, sweetheart. However if you’re up for a challenge, I’m always happy to take a precious little dove like yourself home.. However.. I don’t know if you could take what I’m going to give you,”

The male’s voice was the first thing Spencer was greeted with. “Is that so? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But I promise, once you've tasted the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back.” Y/N countered, her voice low and in a seductive tone while her fingers were tracing over the rim of her glass.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, honey.” The man continued while looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Most women can’t handle what I offer. We make a wager..” There it is! Now tell her, you fucking fuck.

“If they can get through my little game, they get to go home. If not?” He began, reaching in his jacket pocket. Which was enough to make Spencer jump up from his spot before he was storming over, catching a glimpse of a knife being pulled from an inner jacket pocket.

It gave him probable cause to shove the man over the counter, making Y/N’s eyes widen at the surprise while she was jumping back.

“Marcus Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Christine Brailey, Jessica Fredricks, and Emily Knight as well as the attempted murder of Amanda Grey.” Spencer spoke through gritted teeth, the handcuffs locking tightly on his wrists before he was shoving him out of the bar.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N’s back was hitting the front door of the apartment as soon as she and Spencer made it inside, the woman gasping while she was trapped between her boyfriend’s body and the wooden door.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself back there. I mean you were really trying to sell it, weren’t you?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raising as his hand was coming under his girlfriends chin to make her look at him. He looked furious, it was enough to make Y/N nearly fall on her knees right then and there.

The thing about Spencer was that he was much different now, prison changing him in many ways. He was still a good man, there were no doubts about that, but now he had more anger.

Which Y/N was the outlet he needed when he was having a hard time, fucking her deep into their mattress where she was soaking their bedsheets with her cum, getting to the point where she was crying from overstimulation and begging for more.

“Get your little ass in the bedroom.” Spencer spat, dropping his hand before watching his girlfriend scurry off, making a b-line to their bedroom. It took Spencer an agonising amount of time to lock up and make sure everything was turned off for the night before he was making an appearance.

“You know, I could tell you were truly enjoying yourself. How does it feel to be a fucking whore?” He spat, making Y/N clench her thighs together as she could just feel her arousal soaking her panties from the harsh words.

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic. You’re really getting wet right now while I’m scolding you for being a whore?” He asked, taking a few steps over before letting his hand tangle in his girlfriend’s hair, tugging her head up to force her to look up at him from the spot where she was sitting on their king sized bed.

“So cock hungry.” He spoke while letting go of her hair while working to loosen his tie, urging his girlfriend to take his belt off for him. However as she was moving to start on his pants, his hand was wrapping around hers. “No.” He began, using the tie he’d loosened and taken off to restrain her hands behind her back.

“You don’t get the pleasure of touching me tonight.” He scolded his girlfriend before pushing her back onto the mattress, his hand grabbing her right ankle before he was pulling her to the end of the bed.

The black dress she wore had a perfect eyeful for him, her tits threatening to spill over the top as he was running his large hands over her body, fingertips tracing over the straps before he was pulling them down, letting her breasts out of their confinement while he groaned lowly. He had seen her body so much and he could navigate it with ease, but seeing her was always like the first time. Just.. He knows what he’s doing now and he’s not as nervous. “Fucking gorgeous.” His voice was low while he was using no effort at all to tug the dress down her legs, throwing it somewhere on their bedroom floor.

“The point of panties is to have something to cover you up.” He spoke lowly, chuckling as her needy, swollen cunt was practically swallowing the fabric of the panties that were on her hips. With a soft hum, his fingertips were running across her covered slit, collecting her arousal on his fingers while sighing, his head shaking.

“Look my angel. Who’s got you this wet?” He asked, his hands pushing her thighs apart more, falling to his knees at the edge of the mattress. “Y-you.” Y/N was whispering, shaking with anticipation as she was really desperate for something, anything. She knew the game Spencer was playing though.

“Damn right,” He gave an arrogant smirk while blowing cool air on her soaked pussy, a chuckle leaving his lips at the pathetic mewl that fell from her lips. “That’s right. Me. Because you’re mine, Y/N. Gonna show you what happens when you get too into flirting when you only had to do the bare minimum.” He murmured, his fingers hooking in the waistband of the black panties, tugging them down her legs while discarding of them somewhere on the floor.

Spencer was delving right in, eating her as if she was his last meal and he was a starved man, the way Y/N’s whines and cries making his cock stand at attention. However it wasn’t long until he was pulling away, tongue paying attention to her throbbing clit while two of his long fingers were being pushed into her without warning.

Her pussy was clenching around the digits, her back arching off of their sheets as she was blabbing her own praises, even if she wasn’t making too much sense because she was a sobbing mess as she could feel those long fingers curling.

Her hands were still bound, grabbing onto her own wrist, although she’d rather have her fingers in Spencer’s hair and being able to shove his face against her more. However, it was all crashing down when Spencer was pulling away, the male chuckling as his girlfriend was looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She was desperate for relief.

“Shh.. I know.” The male chuckled, now getting off his shirt, shedding his slacks as well before his boxers were the last to go. He was getting situated, his hands wrapping her shaking legs around his waist while he was spitting onto her already soaked pussy, the tip of his cock teasing her desperate cunt by spreading the sit around as if she needed to be lubed up.

“Alright, angel. Are you ready for my cock or do you need my fingers a little longer?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. Even in his state, he’d always ask before going too crazy. Last thing he needed was to hurt her.

“Cock!” Y/N blabbed immediately, eyes glossed over while her hips were rolling in an attempt to get some sort of friction, clenching around nothing as she was left to lay there helpless.

“Answer any faster, why don’t you? Someone is eager..” Spencer chuckled, however he was getting quite desperate himself. So, he wasn’t wasting time before his cock was pushing into her cunt, his head falling on her shoulder while he let out a low groan.

Y/N was letting out a drawn out moan, a few whimpers following after. There was always a delicious stretch, the pleasurable pain having her squirming and trying to push herself against his cock for more, the only thing stopping her was a strong hand on her hip.

“Patience. I’ll pull out right now and cum on your stomach and leave you here to squirm. You know better than this.” He warned, his voice low as he kissed the spot under her ear.

Feeling his rock hard cock stretching and stuffing her felt beyond amazing and she loved it. Once he was bottoming out, Spencer wasted no time in beginning to ram his cock into his girlfriend.

The feeling of her velvety, plushy walls was always enough to drive him insane. It was like she was made for him, not even just her body but her as a person. She complimented him so well and he did the same with her. It was safe to say that she was his person. Emphasis on his.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, whimpers and cries from Y/N were filling the once quiet bedroom. Their neighbors hated them enough, Spencer could already hear the complaints from the woman next door. She’d already made several noise complaints in the past, which Y/N would joke with Spencer that it was because she hadn’t been touched in a good thirty years. What a life that would be.

Spencer kept up his steady, relentless thrusts. His goal was always to have Y/N cum first, mainly because the mere sight of her creaming around his cock was enough to make him explode. “Sp-Sp.. I-I… C-Cu-“ That was all he got out of her before he knew exactly what she was trying to convey judging by the way her cunt squeeze tightly around him, a cry leaving her lips as she was doing hitting her orgasm, her back arching off the mattress as her nails were digging into her wrists.

“Fuck!” She cried, Spencer giving a few more sloppy thrusts before long ropes of his sticky cum were beautifully decorating her inner walls, his thrusts fucking it deeper into her while he was slowly coming down from his own high.

Y/N was in full orgasmic bliss, her face flushed, her eyes glossed over, her once neatly done makeup running down her face as well as her face being all over the place. She was fully fucked out, making Spencer lean down and press a few loving kisses against her lips before he was pulling out and pushing himself to stand.

He disappeared off to the bathroom for a few moments, getting a warm bath ready for his girlfriend before heading back to the bedroom, a soft hum leaving his lips as he was carefully picking up his tired, fucked out partner.

“There we go. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He breathed, the woman letting her arms loosely wrap around his shoulders. She was still in the stage where she was crashing down from her high, so he was placing her gently in the warm tub before grabbing a washcloth.

As he was washing his girlfriend, he was looking up at her face once he could see the content smile on her face. “Hi,” He whispered, the two sharing a little giggle amongst each other. “Hi.” Y/N responded, leaning over to press a kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I hope you know, I might be flirting with more people more often if this is the outcome.” She joked, making Spencer laugh.

“Like hell you are.”

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444rockstargf · 22 days

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starting to write for mgg as well now!

"you wanna make the switch?" | spencer reid

in my feelings. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: from a geeky genius to a drunk-eyed, sweaty mess...

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x sub!spencer

word count: 606

contents: blowjob, teasing, implied overstimulation, praise, drabble, not proofread!

it was almost funny how quickly you could flip spencer’s switch.

you knew all the right buttons to press. the way your tongue slid up his rock-hard shaft, swirling itself around his tip before making its way down again. the bedroom echoed with the sharp hisses and deep groans from spencer, a contrast to all his wisecracking bullshit. your boyfriend bit his lip, suppressing all the moans and whimpers that threatened to break free. the torture had been going on for hours, the hypnotizing motions of your mouth putting him into a deep trance.

he tossed his head back as he exahled a shaky breath, his hand glued to the back of your head in a failed attempt to slow down your pace. you took his cock into you throat, inhaling through your nose to create suction as his chestnut-brown doe eyes gazed right back down at you. “c’mon, angel… i-ive been good, would it hurt to just let me…” he was cut off by a deep groan emerging from his throat as you took him all the way in once again, your uvula fluttering against his pulsating tip.

you would’ve smirked if your lips weren’t occupied. you pulled your mouth off of him, spitting on his tip and giving him a few lazy strokes. his body quaked from the stimulation. “i-i… b-baby, i dunno i-if i…” a smile tugged at your lips as you watched how he struggled to enunciate his words. you put on a fake pout, tilting you head to the side as you squeezed his cock even tighter, causing him to bite his lip to suppress all the lewd noises that threatened to break free. “what was that, spence? i didn’t catch that.” you batted your eyelashes all innocent-like, watching him crumble apart filling you with a sick thrill.

“i-i can’t take anymore..!” he was gripping the bedsheets until his shaky hands went white. seeing him struggle made burning heat pool in your core as you slowly touched yourself through your panties. “aw, why not, baby? you’ve been doing so good for me all night…” you sat up from in between his legs, crawling onto his lap and bringing your lips to his ear, your warm breath hitting him right in the canal. “i know you can cum a few more times for me, right?” the base of your hand slapped against his balls, your thumb ghosting the tip each time your hand came back up.

beads of sweat glistened on spencer’s forehead, cheeks flushed with a soft shade of pink. you could tell it was taking every cell in his body to keep himself together. your spoke once more, your voice laced with a touch more authority. “you can take it, baby. i know you can.” he swallowed hard, biting the inside of his cheek as he nodded, wanting nothing else but to please you in this moment.

you spread your legs onto either side of him, tracing his tip along your clothed slit as he looked up at you, lip quivering as if they were begging for a taste of your soft lips. you pouted again as his hips began to buck into your fist. “you’re such a pretty boy, y’know that..?” his teary eyes lit up ever so slightly at the praise in your voice.

his tip bubbled with thick precum as his chest rose and fell with each breath. he held back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes as he took a deep, shaky breath, resting his chin in your cleavage. you nodded in approval, a smile lighting up your face as you kissed him tenderly on the forehead.

“that’s my boy…”

author's note: i am not ditching the rory community! just wanted to see how writing for an ew character would go :)) please leave comments and let me know what yall think! (lmk if this was shitty)

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thewulf · 9 months

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Don't Go || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Reader is head over heels for Hotch but always assumes he doesn’t feel the same way. It’s around s7 and he gets together with Hotch and she withdraws over time. When Emily says goodbye she tells reader she is always welcome with her in London if she needs to leave, and after another couple months she takes Emily up on the offer.... Read Rest Here

A/N: Love this guy. Thank you for the request. Loved writing this one!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k+

Six Months Prior

“You know, I’m just a phone call away. I’d be happy to hire you as an agent.” You nodded at your best friends words. It didn’t seem possible that you’d ever accept the offer, but you couldn’t deny her either. Not right away at least.

“I’ll think about it Em.” Hugging her tightly you stifled the small cry that wanted to come out. She’d become a best friend to you over the years. The one true person you could trust through and through entirely The one who knew you better than you knew yourself.

She knew all about you crush on Hotch and how you’d never do anything about it. She tried for years after Haley’s death to get you to do something. You never did. He never did. It wasn’t meant to be.

She hugged you back squeezing you tightly into her embrace, “Please do. I’m being serious. Just a phone call away.” Her smile looked sad as she took one last look at you before getting into the security line.

You pulled away nodding at your friend, “Good luck Em. Call me when you land.”

She squeezed your hand once more. A gesture of love you’d grown to care for over the years, “Thanks for driving me. I’ll call you the second the plane lands.” She waved as you walked back to the garage. Man, you sure did hate goodbyes. You knew you’d see her soon but it still hurt.

You watched as she walked off into the airport. It certainly wouldn’t be the last time you’d see her, but it sure did suck you wouldn’t get to see her every day. But it was good for her. A promotion she desired. Maybe you would think of her offer. Maybe, just maybe. You took a mental image of Emily as she waved once more before disappearing.

Present Day

Maybe you weren’t supposed to hear it. But when you walked by Hotch’s office to drop off some files and Derek was already there you had to listen in. Had to, how could you not? But you’d regretted it the second you heard it, “My girlfriend and I went there this weekend.” His voice, your bosses voice, spoke through the doorway.

You heart sunk but Derek’s apparently soared. He hooted and clapped his bosses shoulder, “You did it? You asked Beth out?”

He nodded. You took a step back making sure you weren’t seen. Clutching the files to your chest you kept listening in, “Yeah. A few weeks ago. It’s been good. Jack seems to really like her.”

Damn. That was it then. Your chance was gone and over. You were the fool though. He’d given you years to make a move. You leaned back on the wall paralyzed. Knock on the door? Walked away? Keep listening to the horror show?

Paralysis won, “I’m happy for you Hotch.”

He hesitated. What did that mean? You took a step backwards before hearing him once more, “Me too. She different. Calm job that she loves. Relaxed all the time.” Everything you weren’t it felt like. Ouch.

Walking back down to your desk you checked the time on your computer. Nine in the morning, which meant that Emily was probably still working. You pulled your phone out of you back pocket sitting down in the office chair. Maybe it was time for a change. Nothing was happening for you here. Hotch was happy with somebody else. Not even the smiles and simple conversations between the two of you enough to satisfy. You’d harbored a stupid little crush that he never seemed to reciprocate. He didn’t hate the attention you gave him, no. He loved it dearly. He didn’t know much he loved it. Not until you began to withdraw from him.

It was the small things at first. Instead of looking at him when he spoke you kept your eyes on the case file or to the person beside you. You decided that smiling at him was no longer an option either. So, when you continued smiling at everybody in the office except for him it started to drive him crazy. Your smile actually dropped when you noticed he walked into the room. You stood up straighter in your chair and sucked in a breath. What in the hell was happening with you?

You were still kind. Still nodded in acknowledgement. Still recognized him as your boss and your boss only. You had to do this, for yourself. Had to break away. Start something new. This life was quickly becoming toxic.

It’d taken you months to find the courage to ask Emily for a transfer. But after you’d heard Hotch gushing about Beth once more it was the last straw for you. You didn’t want to hear about Beth and how fun she was. You didn’t want to hear about any of it. It wasn’t your place to tell him to cool it on her, so you had to do what you needed to do. Transfer to London.

Your knees bounced up and down in the smaller conference room you’d reserved to talk with Emily. You gulped when you heard her pick up from the other side on the line, “Y/N. How are you?” She asked you.

“I’m okay Em.” You let out a silent breath

She paused for a moment, “What’s up?” She knew you. Knew you deeply. Something was bugging you.

Might as well just spit it out, “I thought about your offer. Interpol.”

“Oh?” She sounded genuinely surprised that came out of your mouth. Such a homebody wouldn’t have ever dared to make this kind of decision.

“If you were being serious that is.” You wanted to clarify quickly. Maybe even she didn’t want or need you.

She nodded, but you couldn’t see it, “Of course I was! Absolutely yes. Let me just call Hotch and put the transfer in.”

You let out a breath, “I haven’t told him.”

“Why not?” She asked more as a friend rather than a future boss. How interesting all of that was going to be.

“I don’t know.”

She wouldn’t let you get away with that answer though, you knew that much, “Yes you do.”

You looked around the small conference room seeing all notes scribbled around. Looking ahead you watched as your coworkers walked around smiling and chatting with each other. You saw as Aaron looked around, maybe for you, maybe for somebody else. Your heart clenched when you looked back down at your phone, “He has a new girlfriend Emily. He’s head over heels for her.” You chewed on your already worn-down fingernails waiting for her response. A nasty habit you’d never been able to break in all your years.

“Oh sweetheart.” You heard her sigh from the other end of the phone, “Are you sure about this? Transferring? I don’t want you to feel like you’re running from your problems.” That’s what you’d admired most about Em.

You sat back down at your desk and waited. Waited for God knows how long. He didn’t call you into his office that day. Nor the next. It had been when you had gotten back from a case down in Miami that he asked you to stay behind on the jet for a moment. Nobody thought anything of it, but you knew. You knew exactly why he asked you to stay behind.

“A transfer?” His voice low once Spencer was out of earshot and down the stairs.

You couldn’t bear to look at him, so you just looked straight ahead, “Yeah.” You stated. Plain and simple. What else did you really have to say.

“Why?” He asked walking in front of you. He needed to know. More than ever, he craved to know what in the hell was happening with you. He’d adored you from afar for so long. The loving smile you always wore. The overly optimistic attitude often rubbed off on him. But it was fading. Fading so fast into the night that when Emily called he wasn’t surprised. Just hurt. Hurt that you wouldn’t have told him. And hurt that you wanted to leave him.

“I need a change.” It wasn’t a lie. You did need a change. You couldn’t just pine for your boss who was in love with another woman from afar. No, that was far too embarrassing. And exhausting. You had to go.

His eyes roamed your face for any tell. You were stoic as ever though. Hiding the waves of crashing emotions behind a big ass wall you’d never let come crumbling down. Shields that guarded your mind.

“You can find change here.” He started.

Shaking your head quickly you rebuked him, “I can’t. I’m stagnant. Tired. I can’t do this anymore.” You motioned your hand out to him before grabbing it back in towards your body.

“Can’t do what?” His eyes glazed over in curiosity as he studied you further. Trying to understand the person he thought he knew. Turns out he hadn’t a clue.

Your eyes narrowed. You weren’t actually going to tell him. Might as well keep him tapdancing on his toes, “This. I’m going crazy Hotch. I have to leave. Move on. Start a life.”

“What are you talking about Y/N?” He was either playing stupid or he genuinely hadn’t the faintest idea how you felt about him and that might’ve hurt worse.

You let out a little laugh, smiling because fuck it, might as well lay it all out for him clear as day. Something you never thought you’d have to do for a profiler. Leave it to Aaron Hotchner to act like a man in this situation, “I’ve been working with you for what? Five years now Hotch? I’ve been through a lot with you. You’ve seen me at my worst, and I’ve seen you at your lowest.” You sighed knowing you were just rambling now. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off, “I like you Hotch. Way more than an employee should. More than a friend should. I’ve liked you for so long and I’ve been too much of a coward to move on. So, I’m finally doing something for me. I can’t watch you fall in love Hotch. I just, I can’t. And I’m sorry. I’m weak.” You spilled out.

He shook his head reaching out. You took a step back involuntarily. Your brain reminding you that he had a girlfriend, “You’re not weak Y/N.” He frowned seeing you take a step back. You liked him? Had he never noticed? Had he never thought about it? Had he always seen you as just a friend?

You let out a full-on laugh, “I tell you I like you and that’s your response?”

He looked over your features for what felt like the first time. You were beautiful. Breathtaking even. He never let himself look at his coworkers like that. Things never turned out good when they did. Then you walked him. He knew how stunning you were. Then you were the kindest person he’d met on top of that? He was sure to be a sucker for you. But he blocked those thoughts out fast. He’d just have to enjoy your friendship. That was all. Plus, you were so much younger than him. Had so much more to look towards.

Through the years your smile never faltered. Not when Haley had been killed and he broke down right in front of you. Not when he needed it most. You were there and held him in your arms for hours whispering encouragement to the man. You were always there for him. Always there when he didn’t need you but wanted you to be there. You were always there, in the best way. You’d integrated yourself so seamlessly within his life he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. That was when he knew he’d fucked up. He’d fucked up with Beth by leading her on for so long. He didn’t want her. He wanted you. Who gave a damn about your age when you wanted him. When you initiated the charge. All bets were off now.

He'd always wanted you but tried to deny it. He hid it away in a locked-up box in the back corner of his brain, “Don’t go Y/N.”

You shook your head tears rushing to the forefront of your eyes, “You can’t do that Hotch. Not now. You have Beth. I have to go.”

He shook his head taking a step forward to match your backwards one, “You don’t have to go. Please. Let’s just talk. Take a seat.” He wanted to punch himself for being so formal with you like he always had. If he was going to try and break down that mental shield you put up being a stiff board certainly wouldn’t help.

You cocked your head to the side unsure of what you’d heard. You thought this was going to be quick and that was certainly not turning out to be the case here, “Okay.” You thought you’d owed him that. You were close not that long ago. That ended when Beth crept into his life taking hold of the crevices of his mind you’d used to hold so closely. How had he not even noticed? How was he this fucking blind?

He leaned forward once he sat on the couch at the back of the jet next to you, not daring to go back to the seat he was previously sitting in. He needed to be closer to you, “Don’t go.”

“Aaron.” You closed your eyes unsure of what to do. Certainly, unsure of what to say.

He shook his head, “Please. I… I can’t let you go.” His voice wavered as his own watery eyes looked onto yours. Damn. Your heart sped up at the sight feeling things you really shouldn’t have at that admission.

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Why?” You needed to know.

When he didn’t answer you opened your eyes. He was just looking at you. Carmel eyes tracing over every feature on your face. He smiled slightly when your eyes met his. You felt the blazing blush rise across your face as he kept studying you so obviously. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second of silence. As if he knew you couldn’t take it anymore he finally answered you, “I’m an idiot. I don’t want her Y/N. I want you. I may not have always known it but now that I do, it’s supposed to be you.”

You shook your head quickly in utter disbelief, “Don’t say that. You have Beth. You have a life here.”

His eyes grew serious as he scooted closer to you. His knees brushed yours as he leaned forward once more, “I need you to hear me right now. I don’t want her. I want you. Just… just let me clean this up.” He pleaded taking one of your hands in his. He knew he was onto something when you didn’t pull away from him.

“Aaron…”

He cut you off, “Please, just don’t go. Please. Let me fix this.” Every part of him begged you. The most emotion you’d seen since Haley had passed. It sent shivers down your spine as you thought about it. He was being vulnerable with you.

You swallowed unsure of what the fuck to do now. This was certainly not on your short list of items that could possibly have happened to you when you did this. Aaron Hotchner begging you not to go? Impossible. Yet here you were with his hands in yours and pleading eyes.

When you didn’t answer he continued, “Please. Don’t go.” He took your other hand in his. He too had to make a scary confession just like you had moments prior, “I may have been too blind to see it before but sweetheart I… I like you too. And I’ve been missing you. You’ve been here but you haven’t been present. You have been with everybody else but me. I don’t want a life without you in it. So please, please don’t go.” He would ask a million more times if that’s what it took. He’d do anything you asked. Go anywhere you wanted. Be anything you needed really. He always knew it was you. He was just playing by the rules for too long. You’d snapped him right out of that though. He couldn’t actually let you go to London. No way in hell. He’d normally do anything for his employees, but he couldn’t let you go. He’d find you a better job here if that’d what it meant for you to stay.

You gave in. You weren’t thinking right with his big hands covering yours so easily. A steady rub from his palm sent shivers up your arm sending your mind into a frenzy. A moment you were so scared for turned so intimate.

You nodded your head mumbling out a soft, “Okay.” Before being brave and turning your eyes up to his big brown ones.

The relief that washed over him at that was evident. He threw his head back in relief. A big smile crossed his face when he came back to looking at you, “Really?” He asked, not believing it himself.

“Yeah. You have good puppy dog eyes Hotch.”

He shook his head scooting you closer to him, “Call me Aaron, sweetheart.” You heart sped up once your legs tangled with his. Two oblivious idiots soon to be in love trying it for the first time together. Awkwardness and all you soaked it in. His touch. His smell. His presence with you right there on the jet.

“Alright, Aaron.”

He smiled that gorgeous smile you’d grown to love but never saw often enough. Rarely that smile would make its presence and when it did it blew you away. You smiled right back at him as looked you over once more, “Let me drive you home.”

“What about my car?” You asked the most obvious question it felt dumb coming out.

He shrugged, “I’ll pick you up before work tomorrow. No worries.”

You didn’t want to oblige but you really wanted the alone time, “If you’re sure.”

His smile only grew. He stood up and pulled you up right with him, “I’m positive. Now, let’s get you home.” He didn’t drop your hand as he led you down the stairs and over to the parking lot not that far from the air strip. Your smile didn’t falter as he led the way so utterly sure he’d made the right decision, finally.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom

Request Taglist: @mischief-merlyn @mrs-ssa-hotch

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velvetcloxds · 11 months

Note

Also a really cute drabble/dialogue idea would be sharing random bits of knowledge with Spencer Reid because that boy knows everything and he loves sharing random facts with people, so I think it would be fun for someone to do the same with him. There are so many ways that conversation could go, so it would be such a fun idea to write!!

SPEAK NOW | S.R.

word count: 0.4k

warnings: I think this man knows everything, except the latest celebrity gossip and I really want to talk to him and his big brain about taylor swift

"You don't understand, Spence," you sighed in faux exasperation and he raised a brow, biting back an intrigued smirk when you crossed your legs, bracing yourself on the two-seater of the jet by placing a gentle hand on his knee. "Taylor announced that she's releasing her Speak Now album again."

"That's the one where she's wearing the purple dress, right?" he knew it was, he also knew it would earn him bonus points for remembering and the happiest little smile as you nodded in excitement.

"It is! It's also the one that has songs for both Taylor Lautner and John Meyer on them," you had your phone ready, excitedly showing him some weirdly edited photo with Taylor S in the middle of the two men, a little halo drawn over Taylor L and red horns drawn on John, it was entirely too silly to be such a big part of your day. "And Taylor being the unproblematic king that he is said that he was excited about the release but was praying for John," you scoffed, eyes practically sparkling as you waited for some sort of reaction.

"Has John said anything yet?"

"John knows better than to have an opinion out loud," the little breath that Spencer offered you was about as close to a laugh as you'd get from him this late.

"Have we listened to this album yet?" you hadn't, he knew and he was extremely pleased with himself when you moved even closer to him, very quickly settling against his side with your head on his shoulder so it would be easier to share your earphones with him.

"You might not like it that much, you know, it's not the same style as Folklore and Evermore."

"I don't mind," and he didn't, not one bit because he knew he'd be too busy watching you react to every song, whispering along to the words under your breath, the purest little obsession in the world he thought, him with you and you with Taylor Swift. He made a little mental note to figure out just who the hell Taylor Lautner and John Meyer is.

#she is a bit rusty forgive me #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid baby blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds dialogues #monique's dialogue days #monique's writing events

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sabage101 · 3 months

Text

Derek : “how bad?”

JJ : “ Florida ”

#bau team #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #crimnal minds #CM #criminal minds headcanons #correct dialogue #criminal minds #bau x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #bau #dave rossi #aaron hotchner #spencer reid

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

Whiplash - Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

WC: 6.8K / navi / preview

Summary: You receive minor injuries in a car crash that Hotch manufactures to get a killer off the road. Despite having saved the day, he feels guilty for hurting you, and your professional relationship quickly spirals into something more.

Contents/Warnings: one bed trope !! Insecure Hotch </3, self doubt, self deprecation, arguments, angst with a fluffy ending, Hotch says some mean shit but he’s just a dumbass, mentions of minor injuries/scrapes/cuts, bau!reader

A/N: This was originally a little blurb that I wrote for @shyhotch, a one bed trope story with hotch! but then it got ridiculously out of hand, and now it’s 7k.. I wrote this with a gn!reader in mind, but this was all written in a burst of inspiration and I had to edit out a lot of silly little typos! if you see any gendered terms, please let me know, I promise you they were not on purpose.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

"Y/N," You weren't sure if it was your seldom-used first name, or the concerned glint in Hotch's eyes that clued you into how much you'd be babied for the rest of the night, "I want you with me tonight. You shouldn't be alone, not after that."

That was the car crash you'd just gotten into. Manhunts were difficult to navigate, and you didn't blame Hotch for swerving to run the man off of the road. It was you two or his potential victim, and you were glad that Hotch had done it well enough so that neither of you got seriously injured.

Just because you weren't dead, though, doesn't mean your neck wasn't hurting like a bitch. He'd given you a solid two seconds of warning, shouting a gruff, 'Hold on!' before jerking the wheel to the side and throwing his arm across your chest. You'd found purchase on the door, gripping it hard enough that your head hadn't hit the dash. But your neck had bent at an awkward angle, and it ached every time you moved it into a specific position.

You nodded, bidding a sleepy goodnight to the rest of the team as they divided the remaining three rooms to themselves. Small towns were difficult to pack into at a moment's notice, but you were just relieved there didn't need to be more than two to a room.

Hotch's hand rested gently on the small of your back as he led you to your room, the gesture half-comforting and half-exhilarating. You were already having trouble deciphering your feelings towards your unit chief, and this wasn't helping.

You were especially conflicted when Hotch swung the door open, revealing a lackluster, cramped bedroom with one single bed. It was a queen, definitely big enough for two people, but two people that didn't mind the occasional brush of skin-on-skin. You weren't sure if you could handle that.

"You should shower first," Hotch set his bag down by the door, "The warm water might help with your neck."

You nodded, thanking him for letting you take the first turn, and lugged your bag into the bathroom. You breathed easily for the first time all night as you shut the door behind you, finally able to drop the calm façade and address the butterflies swarming in your tummy.

Part of you felt unprofessional for reacting so horribly to a non-fatal crash. You hadn't even broken any bones, you'd just taken a few shards of glass to the cheek and landed yourself with a sore neck. You should be grateful that you weren't dead, not biting back tears at the scrapes on your face.

Part of you also felt unprofessional for not lamenting the fact that you had to share a bed with your boss. If it were almost anyone else on the team, you'd have offered to take the couch, so that Morgan wouldn't suffocate you in your sleep by throwing himself into a starfish position, or so that Reid couldn't kick you off of the bed in the middle of the night.

You held your sniffles until you twisted the knobs of the squeaky shower, waiting for the water to come sputtering to life.

When nothing happened, dead silence and stillness in the bathroom, you broke. You felt one tear slide down your cheek, then another, then another at your series of unfortunate events, until your shoulders shook with exhaustion and defeat. You knew you were audibly crying now, and you yanked the neckline of your shirt up over your face, pressing it tightly to your mouth so that your sobs were muffled.

That wasn't enough for Hotch, though. You weren't sure how he'd managed to gain superhuman hearing after nearly going deaf, but his startling recovery meant that he'd heard your weak cries and was knocking softly on the door.

"Y/N?" There was your first name again. You wanted so badly to say that the lack of professionalism wasn't the reason that your tears almost subsided, but it was, and it had you stepping towards the door reluctantly

"Y/N," He continued, his voice placating and smooth, "What's wrong? Are you okay in there?"

You answered his question by twisting the lock, swinging open the door and revealing your slouched stance, "The shower doesn't work. And- and my neck hurts," Your chin wobbled as you tearily spoke, "And I just want to go to sleep."

Hotch's typically-present frown was set deep on his face, though his eyes shone with worry rather than anger. He reached out a careful hand, the gesture a bit shaky as an after effect of the crash, and wiped away the fresh tear that slid down your cheek.

"Get changed," He gestured to your bag still propped up on the sink, "And get in bed, okay? I've got a heating pad in my bag, and we'll see if it helps your neck."

You nodded drearily at him, reluctantly letting his hand slip from where he had been cupping your cheek to close the door once more. You changed as quickly as you could into your pajamas, though your neck twinged at every small movement and you were tired enough that you nearly fell over three times.

You finally emerged in thick, flannel pajama pants, a loose tank top thrown over the top so that you wouldn't overheat. You hadn't even gotten a glimpse of the room before you were being engulfed in a tight hug, Hotch's arms winding around your back and pulling you flush to his chest. You stood frozen for a few seconds, but melted quickly into the comforting embrace, one last weak sniffle coming out as you relaxed in his arms.

"I'm sorry I swerved." He mumbled, his voice thick with guilt and muffled as he spoke against your temple, "I didn't know what else to do."

You knew he held himself responsible for the wellbeing of his team, and you weren’t surprised that he was tearing himself apart inside at the knowledge that he was behind the wheel during the crash. No matter how many times you would tell him you were fine, and that it was for the greater good, you had a sinking feeling that he’d hold onto all of his unnecessary guilt for far longer than was healthy.

"There was nothing else to do," You shook your head as best you could from the restrictive hug, "You made the right choice. Just because I got a few cuts doesn't mean you were in the wrong."

"You got more than a few cuts," He pulled back only slightly from the hug, his fingers brushing over the stinging scrapes on your cheek, "Your neck hurts, you said it yourself. And I saw your knee hit the glove compartment, I'm sure that didn't feel nice."

"I can't feel it at all," You sheepishly admitted, the dull ache in your knee long gone, "'S just the neck thing, really."

"Well let's fix that," He finally let you go, his arms falling from your waist as his hands found purchase in your own, "The heating pad's warming up."

"Why do you even have it?" You eyed the turquoise pillow on the bed suspiciously, missing the way Hotch's cheeks flamed at your question.

"I, um- it helps me sleep sometimes." His voice had lost all of it's ever-present confidence, meager and weak as he led you to the bed, "It's a comforting feeling."

There was something incredibly endearing about your boss cuddling a heated pillow to sleep. You fought the urge to ask about replacing it.

Hotch helped you crawl into the bed, underneath the covers on the right side as he sat on the left. He maneuvered you in front of him, grabbing the heating pad and gently pressing it to the back of your neck.

The relief was immediate, but lackluster. The ache in your neck eased, but not enough, and you clung to the mediocre results so that no more tears slipped down your face. You really didn't want to cry in front of your boss for the second time tonight.

"Is that helping?" Hotch's voice gave you the same warm, cozy feeling as the knit comforter you'd slid under, and you nodded carefully.

"A little," You let your eyes slip shut, "It's getting there."

"Good," He murmured, taking one of his hands off of the pillow and prodding carefully at your neck, feeling the tense muscles, "Does that hurt?"

"A bit," You winced as his fingers poked at a tender spot, "There, that hurt."

Instead of backing down, you felt him double his efforts, putting heavy pressure on your neck while kneading his fingers into the knots there. You tilted forwards out of instinct, but the touch began soothing the twinges of pain you felt, and you leaned back into the massage.

A soft groan escaped your lips, and Hotch was thankful that you were facing away from him so that you didn't see his chest heave slightly at the sound, "Fuck, thanks Hotch."

"You can call me Aaron, you know." He pressed the heating pad further onto your neck, "I don't have to be just your boss. I can be more than that here."

You wanted to scream. You almost lost your grip on reality at his heavily suggestive words, his hands prodding eagerly at your sore neck not helping you ignore your delusions. You were sure he meant simply friends. Surely, he just meant that he’d like to drop the professional front you normally put up, that he wanted to know if you were okay as a friend, and not as a subordinate. You let a giddy smile slip over your face even though you knew he couldn't see it, muttering a soft, "Thanks, Aaron."

He hummed in acknowledgement, waiting until your shoulders slumped comfortably instead of being held tensely by your ears to slowly stop massaging your neck.

“You should go to sleep,” He repeated your wishes from earlier, the reminder of how you’d broken down in a shitty motel bathroom in front of your boss making shame clog your throat, “Sleep with the heating pad under your neck, okay?”

“How are you gonna get to sleep?” You mumbled tiredly, not bothering to voice your earlier thoughts about how easily you could replace the pillow, “Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be fine,” Hotch murmured, “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

You made a mental note to accidentally roll a bit too close to him in your sleep.

“Okay,” You felt him ease the heating pad off of your neck, glancing back at the head of the bed while he situated it on top of your pillows, “Hey, Hotch?”

“Aaron,” He corrected, glancing expectantly at you through the dim room, “And yes?”

“Aaron,” You repeated, the name sounding far too intimate on your tongue for someone who’d just said what he had, “Thank you, again. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Don’t thank me.” His face hardened slightly, “It’s my fault, I’d be an awful teammate if I didn’t help you.”

You felt something hot bristle in your chest at the term teammate, a step back from the possible meanings of his previous offer, “You swerved, but you stopped him. That guy would have died if you didn’t. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I beat you up,” Hotch joked tentatively, a sad smile on his face even though your laugh was genuine, “But I’m glad you aren’t upset with me.”

“I’ll never be upset with you,” The first part was completely true, but you added more detail so that it didn’t sound suspicious, “For doing your job.”

You watched something melt into his smile, the atmosphere squeezing you like the hug you’d been wrapped in only minutes before. He said nothing, only smiling gratefully at you as he eased you back onto the pillows, tucking the blankets up and around your chin.

“I’m not seven,” You laughed, the pain in your neck lessening by the second as you relaxed into the mattress, “You don’t have to tuck me in.”

“Just let me fix my mistake,” He snapped teasingly, a chuckle of his own lacing his words, “We can sleep in tomorrow, we don’t need to be out until eleven.”

Though his tone was lighthearted, the attempt at a joke didn’t fly with you. You sighed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and ignoring the hand that he pushed onto your stomach to keep you laying down.

“Y/N-” He started, eyes flashing with worry, “Lay down, you need to-”

“Stop.” You’d never used such an authoritative tone with Hotch before, and the second it came out of your mouth you regretted it. You expected him to scowl, to scoff, to take back his generous offer of being more than your boss, but he didn’t. Instead, his face fell, the worry in his gaze replaced with slight astonishment. He let his mouth fall closed after a tense moment of eye contact, glancing quickly down at the hotel bedspread as he followed your directions.

It was a sheepish side of him that you’d never seen before, and you were sure his willingness to accept your demands had more to do with the exhaustion clearly written on his face than it did with him letting you boss him around. But the image of him looking like a scolded puppy was more endearing than you wanted to admit. You pressed on, ignoring the way that you wanted to kiss the soft pout off of his face.

“Aaron,” You started, taking care to address him the way he’d asked you to all night, “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

He opened his mouth immediately to protest, but you held up a hand, silencing him once more.

“I chose to get in that car, I knew something like that could happen. You needed to get that guy off the road, and it’s okay that there were a few setbacks because of it. I’ll have a sore neck for what, three days? But that guy is gone, and he can’t kill people anymore. If it comes down to a little bit of whiplash or countless innocent lives, I’ll live with the temporary discomfort.”

He was silent for a moment as your words hung in the air. You saw the conflict brewing in his eyes, but whether it was from taking orders from you or thinking about what you’d said, you weren’t sure.

Finally he spoke, glancing up at you for a moment to make sure you’d let him, “I understand that you’re not upset with me for what I did. But I am.”

“What you did was save lives!” Your voice came out more exasperated than you’d intended it to, and as a result, his did as well.

“What I did was hurt you!”

“What you did,” You paused, ducking so that his ever-so-slightly downturned gaze met your own, “Was crash a car. Both of those things happened because of that. But you can’t value my comfort over possible victim’s lives. You know this job is dangerous. People get hurt, it’s gonna happen. But I signed up for this, it’s not your fault that I was in that car.”

“I paired up with you. It is my fault that you were in that car. I sent everyone else away in other pairs.”

“Oh, so if you’d crashed with someone else in the car, it would be different? You wouldn’t feel bad for giving Morgan a bit of whiplash?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Hotch’s voice hardened, and he glanced down at the bedsheets exasperatedly once more, “This is getting out of hand. You should sleep, Y/N, really.”

“No,” You pressed on, something in the back of your brain telling you to stop pushing because his voice had lost its soft, sweet tone, and his business persona was coming back, “What makes me different? Why are you more protective of me than the others?”

You were practically begging for a confession. You were grumpy and exhausted, and something about that combination made you extra audacious. You knew full well that your question was risky, and what made it even more so was the demanding tone that you’d used to ask it. But you were determined to get the most out of this, you were tired of relying on fleeting glances and reading too far into soft brushes of skin-on-skin. You wanted to know the truth, now.

And for a moment, for a fleeting moment, you truly thought you’d get one. You weren’t sure why, why you thought he’d profess his undying love for you in a stuffy motel room, with dried blood on your cheeks and the covers coffee-stained.

Maybe it was a testament to how many cheesy romance stories you consumed, that you believed your question would result in a sappy confession. Instead, your stomach sunk as his eyes hardened fully, his face now set in his professionally-present unreadable scowl.

“You’re new. You aren’t experienced yet, and I need to monitor you. Morgan knows what he’s doing, and so do the rest of them. I’m more worried about you because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

If you thought the car accident had given you whiplash, his words proved your diagnosis inadequate. Every single emotion in your chest flipped a hundred-and-eighty degrees, leaving your head spinning. The previously cozy warmth of the blankets now felt stifling, igniting a fire that burned brightly in your chest. You felt heat pool along your eyes, your teeth piercing your tongue to try and keep your tears at bay.

“You know what, Aaron-” You started, your voice now the meager one until he interrupted you.

“Hotch.” He snapped, eyes ablaze.

“Sir,” You quipped, resentment lining your words, “I don’t think you know what you’re doing.”

You barely glanced up at his face at all, but the split second you did revealed an infuriatingly collected expression staring back at you. No remorse seemed to be bleeding through his permanent frown, and you tore the heating pad off of your pillow, shoving it back at him wordlessly.

“Agent Y/L/N-”

“I’m going to sleep. I need some rest,” You sneered bitterly, ignoring the searing ache in your neck as you settled on your faintly warm pillow turned away from Hotch, “My neck hurts.”

For once, you had no trouble getting out of bed when your alarm rung. You’d been awake for most of the night anyways, staring at the ceiling, taking in the gut-wrenching presence of the man beside you that you’d previously have fawned over, drowning in the miserable silence that had enveloped the room after you’d gotten the last word. Hotch had barely opened his eyes before you were out the door, shutting it a little harder than was necessary, just for impact.

Where you’d have normally gotten two coffees, one for your impromptu roommate who hadn’t shown his face yet, you grabbed one, You quickly realized that sipping was an anxious tic of yours, and you’d downed the entire cup within five minutes.

By the time Hotch stepped through the doors of the precinct, looking irritatingly okay, you were on cup number three.

“Only a few more packets,” Prentiss smiled sympathetically up at Hotch as he peered down at your paperwork, “Then they’ve cleared us for leave.”

You realized frustratingly late that the only open seat at the table was beside you. The second he dropped into his chair you were out of yours, not even bothering to personally excuse your abrupt departure.

You were fairly certain you heard a faint sigh before you shut the door to the bathrooms behind you, but the last thing you wanted to do is dwell on its meaning.

Somehow, you’d managed to evade Hotch’s presence for the rest of your time in the precinct. You’d texted Emily, a simple, ‘stomachache’ excusing you from sitting at the cluttered table, folded in half in an uncomfortable plastic chair.

Beside the man who still, unfortunately somehow, had your heart, despite having torn it to shreds only hours prior with a few cold, calculated words.

You wished that you could say all of your attraction to your boss had vanished the second he’d belittled you. You knew damn well that you belonged on this team. Or at least, you thought you had. You were confident in your abilities, and your relationships with the other team members. But it was all for shit if that’s what Hotch, your superior, really thought.

Emily had even gone as far as to pack your bag up for you while you were still hiding in the bathrooms, texting you a picture of it all zipped up and ready to go with the caption, “Hotch was gonna try to do it, but I figured you’d be mortified if he saw your peace-sign-print underwear. You’re welcome.”

You’d only come out of the bathroom when Spencer had peered inside, calling your name out tentatively, “Y/N? We’re leaving, you can sleep on the plane. Hotch said you’re not feeling well?”

You bit back a scoff, neglecting to tell him that Hotch was, in fact, the reason you weren’t feeling well. You only nodded sadly, taking the hand that he offered you to haul you up off of the floor.

Normally, Spencer would have rather taken a bullet to the chest than touch a public bathroom floor. But he showed no hesitation in wrapping you up in a hug, his arms flush to your sweater that had just been under you on the tile.

“I know you’re not sick.” He murmured, keeping you pressed to his chest as he spoke, “Prentiss said you had a stomachache, but Hotch said you had a headache. And he’s grumpier than usual today, he snapped at JJ twice already. Did something happen?”

“Nothing that I wanna talk about,” You feel the newly-familiar sting of tears at your eyes, “But thank you for caring, Spencer.”

“Anytime,” You hear the resignation in his voice, nestling your cheek into his shoulder for as long as he’d hug you, “I’m always here if you need something, I hope you-”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off as the door swung open, much more forcefully than when he’d done it. You broke away to turn towards whoever had stormed in, and any emotion that had been on display over your face during your hug with Spencer was promptly wiped away.

Hotch stood in the doorway, fury tightening his jaw and flashing darkly in his eyes. He glanced between the two of you, his voice more clipped than you’d ever heard it when he finally spoke, “We’re leaving.”

He stood in front of the door while you and Spencer filed out, keeping it open for you. You’d tried to slip in front of Spencer but to no avail, which meant that Hotch fell into stride right behind you. You felt his gaze on your back, and you straightened your posture, shoulders held proudly high as your face remained indifferent.

The jet was worse. There was nowhere to run this time, and when you’d all settled in your respective areas, Hotch’s eyes easily found your slumped form spread over one of the seats.

He didn’t move, though, not yet. Morgan’s eyes were still dully locked onto the table in front of him, and Reid’s were scanning incredibly fast over the pages of a book. You took the time to shut your own, laying peacefully still against the back of your seat and hoping that Hotch wouldn’t have the audacity to wake you up if you looked like you were sleeping.

He did, though.

If Hotch had anything, it was audacity. You felt a hand on your shoulder only twenty minutes from when you’d ‘fallen asleep’, and judging by how broadly it covered your skin, you knew who’s it was.

You pretended to stir, eyes fluttering open dramatically as you blinked wearily up at your Unit Chief.

“Y/N,” He began, keeping his voice low as he addressed you by your first name, “May I speak with you for a moment?”

“Talk.” You mumbled, an unimpressed glare leveled his way.

“Not here,” He huffed, glancing warily at the rest of your unconscious team members, “Behind the curtain.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware they soundproofed the fabric.” You grumbled, reluctantly standing and making your way to the secluded area just behind the partition curtain.

It seemed like Hotch was picking his battles, because he didn’t bother firing back at your snark. You supposed you appreciated that, as you weren’t very fond of the idea of getting fired right then and there, though it was coming if Hotch’s lack of confidence in you was as strong as he’d made it seem last night.

He snapped the curtain closed behind you two, the grating sound of metal on metal spreading a grimace over your face. He turned to you stiffly, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides as he appraised your exasperated expression.

“I would like to apologize for the things that I said last night,” He began, his voice robotically devoid of emotion, “They weren’t a reflection of my true feelings, and I resent having compromised your trust in yourself.”

“Jesus Christ,” You groaned, “Can you just act like a normal fucking person right now?”

“Excuse me?”

“I resent having compromised your trust in yourself-” You mimicked, “Talk like you’re a human being! If you’re trying to make an emotional connection to someone, they need to know you have emotions.”

He fell silent at your jab, and you took the lead, “Remember last night when we had a heart-to-heart? Like that. You let me in, and you told me how you were feeling. That was an emotional connection. If you want to get absolutely anywhere right now, you’re gonna need to do the same thing.”

He deliberated your words for a moment, and you held eye contact with him unblinkingly. Your gaze rivaled his previous one in terms of sternness, and you relished the sick satisfaction you got from his slight self-consciousness.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, “For insulting you. I’m sorry for lying to you-”

“Oh, you’re gonna call it a lie now?” At this point, you were certain you’d be fired. But you’d be damned if you didn’t give this man hell for what he’d put you through, “I tend to be pretty good at telling when people are lying, Hotch. You meant what you said.”

“The sentiment behind my words was truthful,” He started, but reevaluated after your lips curled in a sneer, “I shouldn’t have phrased it like that, though.”

“No, if I’m a shitty employee, you should just let me have it.” You griped, starting for the curtain that stood behind him, but stopping short when he stepped in front of you, a hand on your shoulder holding you back.

“I am protective of you. I do make an effort to monitor you. But it’s not because I think you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Why is it then?” This time you had no confidence in your question, “What makes me different?”

“I..” He began, the tip of his tongue pressing to the bottom of his front teeth before he shook his head slightly and said something different, “I don’t like opening myself up emotionally. Especially at work, it’s vulnerable, and I don’t like the risks that come with it.”

“Then you’ve lost me.” You sighed, indifference glazing over your hateful glare, “Now, can I please go back to sleep?”

“You weren’t asleep.” Hotch murmured, his hand still on your shoulder, “Your mouth opens when you sleep.”

“What?”

He shook his head, blinking rapidly, “You go to sleep with your mouth closed, but when you sleep deep enough, it drifts open.”

There were so many things you wanted to say. To do. You wanted to admonish him for being so surprisingly endearing, when only seconds before you’d wanted to rip his throat out. You wanted to demand that you discuss this behind closed doors, not curtains. What you settled on was a biting, “You’ve been watching me sleep?”, hoping that it didn’t come off as too forward.

“That’s beside the point,” His cheeks were dusted with the slightest pink hue, and you marveled the sight. You didn’t know he was capable of blushing.

“Anyways, what I was saying. I don’t like being vulnerable.”

You scoffed, flinching away from his touch with annoyance painting your features. Was he determined to rub in the fact that he wasn’t going to sympathize with you? That he wasn’t going to make an emotional connection like you’d asked?

“But,” He continued, the professionality in his voice wavering, hesitation showing through the cracks, “I will, because I don’t want to lose you.”

Once again, the hopeless romantic in you wanted to believe that he meant to end that sentence there. But you were certain that he meant more, that he meant to add ‘on this team’.

You raised an eyebrow expectantly, giving him your silent permission to continue.

“When you asked me last night, why you were different, why I was more protective of you than the others? I didn’t know what to say.”

He fell into silence once more, but you maintained your own, not wanting to make his argument for him.

“I- I did know what to say,” He stammered, “I just didn’t know if I had the courage to say it or not. And I didn’t, not- not then.”

“Say it now.” You finally cut in, intrigued by the turmoil brewing behind his eyes, “Tell me what you wanted to tell me last night.”

Another leap out of his comfort zone, another bout of silence. When he finally spoke again, his voice clung to the last ounce of stability he was capable of.

“I am telling you this to make sure that you know for certain that I didn’t mean what I said last night. This is for your benefit, not mine. I expect nothing out of this, I know I crossed a terrible line last night, and I don’t expect three mediocre words to fix all of that. Just know, you don’t owe me anything after I say it.”

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

He seemed to be competing with himself on how hard he could stun you into silence. Each time he said something that completely turned your world upside down, you swore that nothing had ever phased you like that before. But here you were now, legs going numb and vision hazing as you desperately tried clinging to any possible reply amidst your emotional whiplash.

You had hoped for those words to come out of his mouth for longer than you’d ever admit. Part of you had always been ashamed of your longing for him. But day by day, each rose-colored reverie that you slipped into after a particularly gratifying interaction with him invaded the sensible part of you. You tried finding it. You tried desperately hunting for that part of you that would be able to take this information, and move on sensibly with it. You searched and searched for any logical reaction to his words, anything that wasn’t a line from a love poem, or something that you’d see scripted in a movie.

You found none.

You supposed you had never really let go of your hopelessly romantic fantasies. Even after he’d called you inadequate at your job, insinuated that the work you’d been doing wasn’t good enough for him or your team, you’d still had some fleeting hope that he was lying.

That’s why, you assumed, it was so easy to forgive him. He’d rambled about you not owing him, about how he was doing this for your benefit, not his. But no part of you wanted to continue holding the grudge that you’d slipped into over the last 12 hours. The things he’d said were horrible, and they’d made you cry for most of the night. But he’d always been god-awful at talking about his feelings, and you understood that, for him, lying to you was a better option than revealing his feelings, especially if he hadn’t expected you to return them.

As the thoughts in your head stopped spiraling, as you came back to the present moment, you realized that his insecure gaze had deepened tenfold. You swore that you caught his lip quivering, and that combined with the blush already painting his cheeks made something horribly affectionate grow in your chest.

“I understand if-” He finally seemed to find his voice, but you cut him off, holding a finger out rather courageously over his lips.

“It’s my turn to talk now,” You breathed, your heart hammering in your chest.

You watched the dread pool in his beautifully dark eyes, and saw the near-imperceptible nod that he gave you.

“Why do you think I bring you coffee every morning?” You asked, visions of the perfectly doctored cups of caffeine that you left waiting for him on his desk filling your mind.

The question seemed to take him off guard, and he sputtered slightly, “You- You say it’s because if I fall asleep at work, then I won’t when I’m at home.”

You nodded, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you realized he’d quoted you word for word.

“And why do you think I take mundane paperwork from your stacks and pile it onto mine?”

He didn’t have an answer for that one, his jaw shutting as he waited for you to supply it.

“It’s certainly not because I want to do it myself.” You teased, and you watched as your newly introduced lightheartedness deepened the confusion in his watchful gaze.

“Alright, and if you can’t figure out what this one means, you’re hopeless.” You warned him, “Why do you think I cried so hard last night? Why do you think I stayed up for the entire night, sobbing into my pillow after what you said? You must have known I wasn’t asleep, apparently you have a habit of watching me while I do it.”

There was a moment of silence before the quiver in his lip became more prominent, and you watched tears glaze over his eyes.

“It was so hard to lie there. I heard you all night, I wanted to- fuck, I wanted to say something, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk. You were so angry, and I mean, you had every right to be, but-” He stopped short, breathing deeply, “It killed me to let you cry.”

You felt an appreciative smile bloom over your features, and you keep his hand on your shoulder, reaching up with your own to cradle his face.

“Don’t let it happen again, then.” You murmur, your lips mere inches away from Aaron’s.

“You don’t owe me this.” He urged again, though pointedly leaving his face snugly cupped in your hands, “Remember, you don’t owe me anything just because I confessed.”

“I owe myself this,” You chuckled, your eyes boring into his own dark ones, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me for so goddamn long.”

You watched the last of his weary resolve crack, and a genuine smile lit up his face.

“Your waiting is over,” His lips were twice as enticing as they usually were as he breathed the next words, barely audibly, “I love you, I love you more than words can describe.”

You couldn’t wait any longer. You surged forwards, smashing your lips to his and pouring every ounce of desperation you were physically capable of into the gesture. In all of the times that you’d (embarrassingly) fantasized about this scenario, about when your grumpy, brooding boss would admit that you were the one that made him weak, you’d never felt anything like this.

There were just some things that couldn’t be fabricated, like the rush of warmth to your chest at the sweetness of his embrace, or the cartwheel that your stomach launched into at the soft brush of his tongue against your lips. You knew then that you’d always had a craving for Aaron, but now you were irrevocably addicted to him.

So much so, that when you felt your lungs begin stinging, your need for oxygen rudely interrupting the most romantic moment of your life, you almost didn’t pull away. His presence was your own personal oxygen, your life force now that you’d given him your life.

Apparently, though, his lung capacity wasn’t much better than yours. He reluctantly parted from the kiss, the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen on his face as you chased after him, pressing desperate, sloppy pecks to his receding lips.

“Slow down,” He teased, a deep, heartwarming chuckle slipping past his lips at your eagerness, “We’re on a plane with our coworkers.”

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” You griped, “I want you now.”

The suggestiveness of your words had his smile morphing into a smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes. You groaned pathetically, your head slamming forwards into his chest, “Not like that.”

“Hey,” His hand curled around your jaw, lifting your chin up so that your bashful gaze was locked onto his contented one, “I’m not protesting.”

Your stomach did another one of those cartwheels, an embarrassingly juvenile giggle floating through the space.

“Before we sleep together,” The words felt heavenly on your tongue, “We should probably sleep first. I don’t think either of us are gonna make it the rest of the day.”

“You’re probably right,” He mused, his smile dimming slightly as you peeled yourself off of his chest, “Hey, Y/N?”

“Mhm?” You delighted in looking into his eyes once again, their beauty expanding exponentially now that you knew the love in them was yours.

“I.. I really am sorry about what I said. I know you’re not mad, or, at least, that kiss didn’t feel like you were,” A soft laugh slipped through his nose, gentle and breathy, “But it wasn’t fair of me to lie to you instead of telling you the truth.”

“It’s.. it’s okay.” You smiled kindly at Aaron, reaching for his hand and squeezing it in yours, “Really, it is. Yes, it made me feel like shit. But you cared enough to take it back, and to step out of your comfort zone by confessing the truth, and subsequently your feelings. That was hard for you, and I know that. That’s how I know that you’re sorry. You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t care.”

He seemed like he wanted to protest. To degrade himself further, to dig himself a deeper hole than you could ever pull him out of. But he didn’t, pointedly closing his mouth and curving it into another smile.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He spoke louder this time, but his voice dropped into another secretive whisper as he leaned in to press one last fleeting kiss to your lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Your cheeks were beginning to ache from how hard you’d been smiling, “Now, come on, let’s get some sleep before we wake everybody else up and give ourselves away.”

You led him back out to the seating area, daring to hold his hand until you were forced to drop it, letting him press a sweet kiss to your forehead as you settled back down in your seat. You wanted to grab his tie that dangled in your face, drag him down for another one of his furiously intoxicating kisses, but decided against it, figuring that Spencer wouldn’t have liked waking up to his boss kissing his coworker.

So you didn’t, you let his hand go with a soft squeeze, and watched fondly as he slid back into his seat. You let yourself genuinely fall asleep this time, your elongated exhaustion making it easy for you to slip into blissful unconsciousness, that seemed only an extension of your last dream-like ten minutes.

It wasn’t until you were back in your car that Aaron made his next genuine move, that wasn’t something small like brushing his hand against yours for a little too long when he took your bag from you, a text coming through over your car’s bluetooth system.

You pulled over to the side of the road to read it, worried that he might be calling you back for another case, dreading the thought of having absolutely no time to process the events that had just transpired. But when you opened it, a picture of yourself was on the screen, your head tipped back against the seat of the plane as your arms wrapped comfortably around a blanket that had been crumpled in your lap.

‘I told you your mouth falls open when you sleep,’ The text read, and when you looked closer your mouth was, in fact, open, ‘Sleep well tonight, Y/N. I’d like to see you tomorrow, preferably outside the office. Does dinner sound good?’

‘Dinner sounds fantastic,’ You replied, ‘But you really need to stop watching me sleep!!’

tags: @arsonhotchner @izbelross @jhiddles03 @stilledimperfections @rosaliedepp @ssamorganhotchner @jazzymariexoxoc @wanniiieeee @ccristata

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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mandarinmoons · 20 days

Note

hmmmmm maybe reader being drunk flirty at a bar or something in front of the team and spencer is trying SO hard to save face but its not happening because reader is obsessed with him?

and ofc the team is teasing the hell outta him and will never let it go

https://www.tumblr.com/mandarinmoons/746776666636976128/ok-i-need-this-line-in-a-fic

ugh sorry that if that sucks

No no that certainly does not suck hehe

Not many knew this, but those who did (also known as Penelope Garcia) knew that you had quite the little crush on your coworker Spencer Reid. During breaks you’d go to Penelope’s cave and half of the time you’d gush about how cute Spencer looked in the outfit he chose for the day or how your hands brushed as you reached for the same mug in the kitchen as you both craved some coffee. In other words, whenever he was around, you were toast.

After finishing an extremely exhausting case the team decided to head out to a bar and you were determined not to hold back with drinks. A few glasses of wine and a round of shots later you felt like you were floating. Spencer kept his eyes on you with great concern and as you wobbled your way to the bar to get another mojito, he was on your tail and wrapped an arm around you to help steady you.

“Easy now,” you leaned to the side and Spencer pulled you close to him, but because of your shaky legs you ended up face planting into his chest.

“Wow,” you giggled and patted Spencer’s chest as you looked up at him.

Spencer’s cheeks were getting noticeably red and it was visible for the rest or the team back at the booth. You could hear them chuckling and teasing Spencer to “go get ‘em!”.

“Oh hey, how’d these end up here?” you took Spencer’s hands and placed them around your waist, even though you were the one initiating the flirty banter you still felt butterflies swarm your stomach.

“H-Hey, let’s go sit down, okay?” your actions were clearly making the man nervous and it only made you want to tease him more. Sober you might never be able to get the right words out, but drunk you decided to take matters differently.

“Nooo, I wanna be at the bar with you,” pouting your lips and fluttering your lashes made Spencer’s heart skip a beat, how could he say no to you? You couldn’t tell, but he did have a bit of a crush on you as well and seeing you act this way with him did fill him with joy.

“Okay okay, only for a little yeah?”

You nodded and Spencer helped you sit down at a stool and kept his arm around you so you wouldn’t fall face first onto the floor. You got the drink you wanted and Spencer made sure you took small sips so you wouldn’t rush to get another one. As much as he had a hard time saying no to you he didn’t want to end up taking care of a hung over you in the morning, not that he didn’t want to, but because of his fear of germs he knew he wouldn’t be able to clean up your puke.

Slowly you rested your head on the counter and Spencer reached over and brushed the hair from your face. You stirred a bit and leaned into Spencer’s hand as his fingers rested on your cheek.

Spencer loved the affection you’d shown him tonight and he wished that it would’ve happened during different circumstances. He knew that alcohol made people act irrationally and the chances of you being so loving could be added up to that, however, alcohol also showed people’s true feelings and the chances of you liking back were the same and that’s all he needed to know.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal

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strawbeerossi · 11 months

Text

The Party Trick

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After seeing a tutorial on how to pick a lock on handcuffs, reader decides to put it to the test to have a new party trick to show the others at the BAU. After doing it a few times with each hand, she gets bold and cuffs both wrists, leaving her trapped, until Spencer comes over and things get interesting.

Content Warning: Coarse language, panic, fear of embarrassment, restraints, Spencer laughs and teases reader, sub Spencer, Dom reader, mean reader, humiliation fetish, praising, degradation, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 3.2K

Y'all, I'm nervous as fuck to post this lmao. This has been in the drafts for a while. I'm not the best with smut because I haven't written it in a while. This is your warning. Read at your own risk.

Part two

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“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” Y/N spoke aloud to herself, an agitated huff leaving her lips.

An hour ago, she’d been watching some random YouTube videos, just mainly to pass the time. There was all sorts of dumb shit she watched, although when she came across a video or a man showing how to pick the locks of a handcuff with a bobby pin, it captured her interest. It seemed simple enough, cuff one hand to something beside you then use the bobby pin to pick the keyhole and free yourself.

She had way too much fun as she figured out exactly how to do it, starting with handcuffing herself to the handle on the nightstand. It took about five minutes to get herself free, the woman switching wrists eventually and getting herself freed with more practice.

Then she got cocky. All she could picture was using this as a party trick, having someone handcuff her hands behind her back while she used the pin that she could hide in the palm of her hand to escape. Then everyone would be astonished and impressed. So, she was determined to make that dream a reality.

It all happened so fast. She had the pin in the palm of her right hand, securely held as she used her left to cuff right wrist. In an attempt to close it with her hand still clamped around the pin, she did her best to lock the cuffs around her left wrist. However, in the act of finding a way to lock it, the pin slipped from yer grasp just as she had her wrists cuffed behind her back.

“Fuck!” She cursed, panic setting in from being trapped without anyone to help her. So, in an awkward attempt to lean down to grab the only thing that could free her, she was bending in all sorts of positions to try and secure the hairpin that was laying on the floor, almost taunting her. Well, now she’d be stuck in her apartment until someone figured out she was missing. Then she’d more than likely have a whole team of people to bust down her door and then laugh at her.

This was the opposite that she wanted. Now she’d be the talk of the team for trapping herself in handcuffs while trying some stupid attempt to free herself. She could already hear all the shit Derek would tease her with now.

“The amazing Y/N, going to show us the special trick that not all fbi agents should be trusted with handcuffs!”

“You know, you shouldn’t play with the tools we are given for the field.”

Derek fucking Morgan.

There was a sigh of defeat as Y/N was accepting her fate of being known for the idiot on the team who gets herself trapped.

However, she was pulled out of her thoughts when she could hear a knock against her apartment door. Thank God! Hopefully it was a family member or something. They’d understand that she did dumb things sometimes and would let her live it down more than her coworkers would.

While hurrying and running from her room like a criminal trying to escape capture with the cool metal of the handcuffs stabbing into their flesh, she was stopping at the front door. “Hold on!” She called, turning around first to try and reach the lock so she could unlock the door. However, when it wasn’t working out, she was huffing from irritation and turning around. She ended up having to use her mouth to unlock the top lock, same with the bottom.

“You’ll have to open the door!” She called, taking a few steps back. However, her heart dropped when she seen who was on the other side of the door. The only reason she was alerted of his presence early was from the way he was asking if she was alright. The moment that Spencer Reid came into view, Y/N face was bright red from embarrassment.

“Not a word of this to the team!” Her voice came out in a squeak, making the genius snort out a laugh as he walked around the woman after closing the door behind him. “How did you even manage to trap yourself?” He asked, not giving her time to answer.

“Y/N Houdini.” He snickered as he was stopping and bringing his hands to run over the metal of the cuffs restraining her arms behind her back. “Is this gonna be your debut into escapism magic? Cause I think you have to actually know how to escape to put on a show.” He continued on.

The words had Y/N’s face growing hotter from the teasing, a huff leaving her lips. “Get your laughs out. Come on.” She demanded while turning around soon after. “Piss me off and I’ll cuff you to your desk at the office and swallow the key.” Of course, all talk and no action from a woman who essentially trapped herself.

“Are you kidding?! I wouldn’t let you. Besides, I’ve seen enough of escapism magic to know how to escape.. Without losing the thing that will grant me freedom.” He commented while grabbing ahold of the cuffs while he chuckled. "Show me where the key is." He spoke, his tone level as the humor of the situation was losing it's power over him.

It wasn't fully lost on him though. In fact, he'd never let her live it down. "You know, the others would've probably forgot about this at some point.." He trailed off, looking around the walls decorated with tapestries, pictures, and some other miscellaneous wall decor. "I, however, will not." He smirked.

Stupid fucking eidetic memory.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious."

"I think you take the cake for being hilarious. Everyone is gonna love this story. I'm sure that even Hotch will get a laugh out of it."

"I hate you."

In reality, it was.. Kinda funny. The thought of seeing someone else on the team in the position she was currently in was enough to make her snort out a laugh of her own. "I'm a fucking idiot, huh?"

The words made Spencer wave her off. "Definitely not a genius but.. Maybe a little smarter than Morgan." His tone was teasing as he was grabbing the small box she showed him that contained the key to the cuffs suspending her.

His first mistake was freeing her, mainly because there was a form of blind trust after being the one to free him.

The minute that Spencer had those cuffs off and was handing her the metallic restraints and turned his back to her, she as using the opportunity to catch him off guard, the male's eyes widening the moment he felt the cold metal against his skin.

"Y/N! What the hell??"

Now it was her turn to laugh, her hands coming up to rest against her mouth. "Now who's the genius, Reid?" She taunted, all in good fun.

Spencer's face was red, eyes on the ground while he had to take in a breath. His body was tense, feeling powerless in the time being.

He was also incredibly turned on by the idea of doing whatever he needed to in order to get out of the cuffs.

The silence grew heavy, tension filling the air. "Oh, come on. Don't be mad at me, Spence. It's all in good fun!" She said while heading over to grab his upper arms. "You are so red," She pouted, her hands cupping the hot skin of his face as he was staring down at the woman, looking as submissive as ever.

That did something to her, a blush creeping up on her face as sinful thoughts began to plague her mind. The thought of leaving a whimpering, sticky mess. The way he'd definitely be the type to beg her for more while she was seated pretty on his lap, doing something like read a book while just being full.

The thoughts had her thighs tightly clenching, arousal surely coating her panties enough to make a wet spot.

Unable to help herself, it wasn't long until the tie around his neck was in her hand, pulling the man down to clash their lips together. The action had Spencer squeaking, although his lips were desperately slotting with hers in a messy kiss. He needed it. He needed her.

It wasn't abnormal for Spencer to have such thoughts, his coworker being on his mind since the moment she joined the team. How could he not be fond of her? She was beautiful, intelligent, plus she was probably the only person who would actually sit and listen to his ramblings whenever something came up.

She was perfect in every way really, however, he knew that there was a long list of things preventing a relationship within the team. Last thing he wanted was for himself or Y/N to be transferred to a different branch.

However his thoughts weren’t particularly on that right now, his body falling back against the plush mattress from a push, not even having time to register what was happening before the woman was straddling his waist. Her hands were on either side of his face, her lips pressing back against his in a more rough, needy kiss.

Spencer's wrists were fighting the cuffs, a huff being muffled against Y/N's lips as he realized that he was being denied the right to touch her, to let his hands caress her smooth skin. His heart was beating against his chest, almost as if it were dying to be released.

All of his thoughts were eventually going out the door the minute he felt the feeling of delicate fingers in his hair. However instead of savoring the feeling of her fingers threading through the messy head of curls, his mouth was agape as soon as her hand was roughly pulling Spencer's hair back.

"I'm gonna fuck you stupid, Dr. Reid."

Oh.

The words were enough to make a moan rip from Spencer’s throat, eyes trained up on the woman who was propping herself up on her knees in order to look down at the man.

“Cat got your tongue, doctor?” Y/N taunted while she was looking down at the man with a soft smirk. She didn’t even have to touch him and he was already putty in her hands. The way his eyes were trained on her, looking like a puppy begging for more. “‘Cause you were very vocal earlier when you had so much to say.” She mused.

“I-I” The woman was bringing her hands to Spencer’s shoulders, her hips rocking against his while awaiting an answer.

“I’m waiting.”

“I-I.. Fuck. I don’t have anything to s-say.” He stuttered, bucking his hips to try and relieve the pressure from his cock that was already standing at attention. “Who would’ve thought Spencer Reid would be quiet when someone is trying to talk to him? You don’t have any facts? Statistics?” She continued dragging on, nudging Spencer’s body back in order to have him lay down in the middle of the queen sized bed.

“Give me a statistic about..” She was looking around her bedroom while sliding down Spencer’s legs. “Ooh! A statistic about dominant and submissive dynamics..” She dragged out the word ‘submissive’ as her hands were slowly moving to unbutton his pants. His head was spinning, brain mush.

“A study showed that,” He paused as her fingers were quickly tugging down the zipper before her hands were pulling the slacks down his legs. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She commented, her eyebrow raising as her movements came to a halt. “T-that 51% of men and 39-” His eyes were fluttering shut the minute he felt her mouth now ghosting over his hard cock in his underwear, her tongue licking over the wet spot of his boxers.

“39% of women are attracted to the idea of having a d-dominant or submissive partner..” He stuttered out, now lifting his hips in hopes of feeling those delicate fingers in the waistband of his boxers. Which, his wish was granted. “That’s really interesting, isn’t it? Good job, baby.” She hummed.

As his cock was revealed to her, she was grinning. His tip was red, beads of pre-cum rolling down his angry, desperate cock. “So pretty!” She praised, laying on her stomach between his legs as her hand was wrapping around the thick base of his cock, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip to smear the mess around.”Who knew Dr. Reid was hiding this? Always the shy and smart ones, huh?” She commented, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock.

Spencer could hear her talking, however he wasn’t responding. His brain was clouded, head falling back against the pillow that rested behind his head. “F-fuck.” He hissed, her tongue now running over the underside of the genius’ cock, cleaning up the mess that she’d already caused.

Her hands came out to rest firmly against his hips, holding him down from bucking like he so desperately tried to do. “P-please..” He let out a slow breath as his eyes were fluttering shut. His voice was shaking, tone laced with need and more desperation than she could’ve expected.

She smiled while licking over his cock one more time before granting him yet another desperate plea that fell from his lips in the form of a whimper. As her lips closed around his cock, she let her eyes flutter shut. Her tongue was flat, her head beginning to move in a slow motion. She was hollowing her cheeks while bobbing her head, her own moans vibrating around his already desperate cock. As she let her grip tighten on his hips, her eyes were opening to peak up at him through her eyelashes.

His curls were disheveled, his head thrown back as his chest was rapidly rising and falling. The strangled sounds of whimpers and pleads for more falling from his lips. It was a beautiful sight, she knew that much.

Spencer wasn’t the only one wildly turned on, Y/N’s panties being absolutely drenched at this point. From her position, she could rock her hips against the mattress, just wanting to relieve the pressure in her clit as she could practically feel her heartbeat in the bundle of nerves. She was growing desperate herself, needing to feel his cock inside her, stretching her out with the delicious burn that came with it.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she could feel the twitch of his cock, indicating he was close. That was her cue to pull off with a loud ‘pop’ echoing through the room along with a small whine falling from Spencer's lips. That whine was enough to make her clench around nothing.

“Shush.” She breathed while wiping the spit from her jaw with her thumb, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she was eventually standing, enough to shimmy her pants and panties down her legs to reveal her glistening cunt. Spencer’s eyes were trailing slowly up her now bare legs, eyes coming to her pussy while his mouth was open, pupils blown out from lust. “Please let me touch you. Wanna- Fuck- Wanna be able to-” He was cut off by her lips, the two sharing a chaste kiss before her teeth were sinking into his lower lip, giving it a playful tug before letting it go.

“Not this time.” She spoke softly, her lips kissing him once more before she was crawling over him again, her hands running over his clothed chest while moving between them.

As soon as she had his cock in her hands, all sense of reason went out the window. To be fair, neither of them were really thinking of a condom right now.

After teasing herself by tapping his tip against her clit, she sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Spencer.” She whispered, eventually sinking down his base. Her head was lolling forward, her mouth agape as she was sinking fully, their pelvises now flush against one another’s. “Holy fuck.”

Spencer on the other hand had to think of anything other than cumming inside of her before she even got a chance to even ride him. However, he felt like she’d ultimately end up overstimulating him in that scenario. He didn’t want that now though. No, he’d rather wait until he didn’t have fucking metal preventing him from gripping onto her hips, letting him fuck up into her rather than be forced to watch her have every ounce of control and power. Even though he had to admit, he could get used to this.

As her velvety walls were clenching around his cock, she was leaning forward slightly as her hips were rolling against his, her head falling forward as she cried out softly. With the length that Spencer had, the right angle would have his tip pushing perfectly against the spongy spot deep inside her that was making her see stars already.

“F-fuck. You f-feel amazing.” It was Spencer's turn to talk, watching the way her tits were bouncing with every movement, even with a clothed torso, she had the man below salivating at the thought of what lay below that blue cardigan. “You take m-my cock so well.” Even through the grunts and groans, there was still a hint of him being unsure. This wasn’t really something he did often, so here we was, doing something he’d seen once or twice in the few pornos he’d consumed at some point. “Ah! Fuck, Reid. I’m gonna cum. Fuck, you- ugh.” Y/N breathed, continued her motions while doing her best to quicken her pace, even though her bounces were growing a bit sloppy, her legs getting tired.

With the grip of his tie and a loud cry of his name, it wasn’t long until she was creaming on his cock, a thin veil of sweat on her face as she was continuing her movements. “Fuck. You gonna cum, Reid? Wanna fill me up? She spoke, the words sending electricity through the man’s body as his cock was twitching once more.

He’d done his best to thrust his hips upward, a low groan leaving his lips as he only needed a few more movements before his vision went white.

Y/N was a whimpering mess, feeling the warm gush of cum that Spencer was coating her inner walls with, the woman’s upper body gently falling forward as her eyes flutter shut.

They laid there for a while, the woman clutching tightly onto her close friend while trying to catch her breath. “Remind me to carry around those handcuffs more often.” She spoke, a light laugh leaving her lips as she was lifting her hips and moving off of him soon after.

“Maybe don’t get yourself trapped next time..” Spencer chuckled, now looking over at the woman as she was sitting him up, finally using the key to free his wrists from their restraints. “Feel like you owe me now..” He began, the woman laughing as she placed the cuffs on her bedside table.

“Spencer Reid, are you really asking me for round two right now?” She asked, making the man give a cheeky smile.

“Maybe if you’re the one in the handcuffs this time.”

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