#emily the little mystery

[plusie]

🖤 - scenemo stuffies :3 (black n' pink!)

[doks-aux]

William refusing to definitively gender his own fursona because maybe he just doesn't have the vocabulary to express a nonbinary identity but also definitely to leave room for customers to assume the Spring Bonnie character is Fredbear's love interest.

[webby2007]

It's my personal three year anniversary of discovering Shipwrecked :)

[imuerytired]

I love this show with all my heart!

[captainxandis]

Hi mutuals i am crawling up and pushing my forehead against yours as I shove the Emily Wilde books into your hands. You will like them i swearrrr

[oh-the--places--you-will-go]

crAcked: Chapter 2

Characters: Aria Montgomery, Spencer Hastings, Hanna Marin, Emily Fields, Alison DiLaurentis, Mike Montgomery, Byron Montgomery, Ella Montgomery, Darren Wilden, Jenna Marshall, Toby Cavanaugh, Noel Kahn, Ezra Fitz

TW: Grooming, fire, violence, death

Word Count: 1,861

Author's Note: This is a PLL fanfic that I mainly started writing for myself. It's been a hot sec since I've posted chapter 1 but I finally mustered up the motivation to write chapter 2. Enjoy!

In all the chaos of Alison's funeral and that scummy cop, Wilden, vaguely threatening Aria and her friends, the small brunette had almost completely forgotten all about how Ezra Fitz had turned up at Ali's funeral. If Aria hadn't been so damn captivated by him, she might've stopped to ask herself why exactly a teacher that had never even met Alison was attending her funeral services. Sure, maybe he wanted to support his students--especially one student in particular--but still, why attend a funeral for someone you'd never even laid eyes upon?

The two of them had only had a brief moment to talk but the short conversation left Aria with more questions than answers. He'd apologized for "being a jerk" and he'd insisted that he cared about her. While she thought it was sweet, more than anything, it just left her feeling very lost.

So lost, in fact, that she hadn't even heard Spencer at first as they were sitting at the Rosewood Grill after the funeral. "Hello, earth to Aria," the brains of the group said. "Do you think Wilden knows about... You know, the...Jenna thing?" Aria let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through her hair. God, I thought we were fucking done with the Jenna thing, she thought to herself. "I don't know, guys. I mean... How could he know? We all promised to keep it a secret, after all..."

The Jenna thing, as in when the girls accidentally not so accidentally blinded Jenna Marshall, the new girl in town.

When Jenna first got to Rosewood, her long dark hair and her stunning green eyes had gotten everyone's attention. She was gorgeous and the minute Aria saw her at Noel Kahn's Halloween party, she knew Alison was threatened by her very presence. Not only was she beautiful, but she had made it clear that she was her own person who could make her own friends. Ali didn't like that, not one bit.

So when the blonde got the opportunity to get back at Jenna and her reclusive step-brother, Toby Cavanaugh, Alison wasted no time. Like so many bad memories, Aria could never truly get that night out of her head. It haunted her day and night.

You see, a little over a year ago, the five girls had been gleefully trying on clothes in Emily's bedroom. It was like any other sleepover until suddenly, Alison exclaimed "I can see you!" and raced to the window, pushing Aria out of the way. Ali insisted that she'd seen Toby in the window and that they all needed to go "teach him a lesson." Immediately, Aria had gotten a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had tried to push back but Alison was not having it. Looking back now, she knew that she should've just stood up to Ali when she had they chance--they all should have.

Before she knew it, they were at the Cavanaughs' garage, hurling a stink bomb through the door and running away. What started out as a harmless little prank quickly turned into a raging fire that permanently blinded Jenna.

"We had the chance to stop Ali that night," Aria said regretfully. Looking at the other girls' faces, they clearly felt just as much as shame about the situation as she did. But what could they do about it now? Surely, they'd be in some sort of legal trouble if the fessed up to Wilden about it, right? And how would he even know in the first place? After all, Ali had gotten Toby to take the blame, somehow...

That night, as Aria was lying in her bed, attempting to sleep, she kept thinking about what Ezra had said to her. His words rang over and over in her head: I care about you, Aria, but this just isn't right. And as much as it felt right to her, maybe he had a point. After all, he was older than her, and wouldn't that make him wiser than her, as well? As she drifted off to sleep, she'd made up her mind. Tomorrow, she was going to nip this in the bud and transfer classes. Besides, with everything going on with her family, that weird cop, and the fact that the whole world now knew that Alison DiLaurentis was dead, she really couldn't handle anything else on her plate.

The next morning before first period, Aria went and sought out Ezra, who was grading papers at his desk. God, he looked so handsome in his tie and button-down shirt. Dammit, Aria, focus, she told herself. You need to do this. Giving a soft nock on the door frame, she said "Hey, can I come in for a second?..."

The young teacher instantly lit up when he saw her face and nodded, beckoning her to come in. Getting up from his desk, he said "Yeah, of course," and walked past her to shut the door behind her. Gingerly, she said "Oh, this will only take a second..." Besides, she didn't want to give people the wrong impression with the door shut--she was ending this and that was that. She took a paper out of her binder and handed it to him. "I'd like to transfer out of your class."

At her words, a look of obvious disappointment crossed his face, which was honestly a bit confusing. "Uh, I totally understand, but, um... I'd hate for you to have to drop the class, especially since we've already started working on our first novel. If you transferred to another class, you'd already be behind..."

Nodding, she said "Yeah, I thought about that, but... I don't know, I just feel like it's the right thing to do..." Looking up at him, he was clearly searching for words to say and he opened his mouth but then closed it again, as if he'd thought of something to say but then changed his mind. "Okay, then I'll go ahead and sign the transfer paper," he said, grabbing the pen off of his desk. "Thank you," she said softly, taking the paper from him and giving him a small smile.

Honestly, she thought he'd look a little more relieved, since he was the one who told her this...thing between them wasn't right. But then again, she couldn't deny that she was at least a little pleased that he wasn't jumping for joy at not having her in his class anymore. Maybe that that meant what he'd said was true--maybe he did really care about her.

Taking the paper back, she said "Thank you, Ez--Mr. Fitz.. I appreciate it." With that, she turned and practically bolted out of the door, sure that she'd change her mind if she stayed just one moment longer. She hurried down to the registrar to turn the paper in before she headed to math class.

However, the transfer was apparently not meant to be. During science class, a student aid had come by her class and delivered her transfer paper with a brand new bright red "DECLINED" stamp on the top of it. Shit, she thought to herself. Is the universe trying to get me to fuck up? Then again...what if this was a good sign from the universe? Perhaps a sign that maybe, just maybe, there really was a chance for her and Ezra?...

When she arrived at English and set the declination on his desk, she could've sworn she saw a small smile perk up at the edge of his lips.

Even though whatever was going on with Aria and Ezra was confusing, being at school was a million times better than being at home, that was for sure. Before Aria had gone away to Radley Iceland, she'd been keeping a huge secret for her dad. It turns out, those rumors about him sleeping with his grad students had turned out to be very true. Aria had seen it with her own eyes and she knew she'd never be able to forget that image of his father kissing another woman in the back of his car for as long as she lived.

At the time, he'd begged her to keep it a secret. Aria's father had told her that if she told her mom, their family would fall apart. She could still hear her own words in her head when she'd begrudgingly agreed to pretend as if nothing was wrong. Through her tears, she'd said to her father's face, "I don't think I'm ever going to be able to forgive you for this."

And she'd meant what she said. From the moment she'd gotten back from her sabbatical, she'd been short with her father whenever he attempted to speak with her. After all, over the past year, she'd had a lot of time to think about the situation and she'd grown incredibly resentful of her father. How could he have put all of that pressure on his own daughter? And all to keep his dirty secret of infidelity? What a fucking coward. What a fucking piss poor excuse for a father.

So on Saturday afternoon, when she arrived home from a coffee run, she didn't know what to say when her father confronted her about her attitude. "You're not very good at hiding your feelings, Aria. And your mother knows that something's up. You need to get past this."

"I need to get past this? I need to get past the fact that I caught you cheating on Mom? I need to get past the fact that you fucking begged me to keep that secret for you?" She shook her head incredulously. "You've got to be fucking joking." Her father looked hurt and taken aback by her harsh words but she couldn't hep herself. What else was she supposed to say? How could he expect her to feel any other way?

Still, she wasn't done yet. "Are you still seeing her?" she asked, her words as sharp as knife. Her father shook his head and said "What? Why would you even ask me that?"

"Answer the question, Dad. Are you still seeing her?"

He shook his head, but Aria really didn't know whether to believe him or not. "No, I am not seeing her. I told you, I'm done with that. I'm done with her. All I care about is our family." Yeah, fucking sure, she thought to herself.

"Whatever, Dad," Aria said with a heavy sigh, the feeling of exhaustion suddenly taking over her body. She couldn't keep doing this, she couldn't keep holding up all this weight on her own two shoulders. But, then again, she couldn't break her mother's heart like that--or her little brother's. She had to protect her family, that was her job. It was part of the reason why she'd done what she'd done that night...

As she started to walk away, her father said "Aria, where are you going? I'm not finished with this conversation."

"Well, I am," she snapped back. She turned away from her father and swiftly walked up the stairs. She'd be fucking damned if she let him see her cry again. She couldn't give him that kind of power over her.

[thegarden-ofeden]

spencer hastings moodboard

pretty little liars masterlist

ꪶ 🪞 ꫂ ˖ like or reblog, please.

[sophieswundergarten]

Things I think about Jackson and Jillson

After they get away from Curtain, I definitely agree that they would live with SQ and Martina in Stonetown.

Jillson gets a job at a bookstore, and she learns that she just loves reading. There weren't a lot of books at the Institute, but SQ's apartment is right next to a bookstore that the Benedict humans frequent, so he's friends with the staff and vouches for Jillson.

Her favourite thing to read is poetry, and she spends all her breaks reading through whatever she can get her hands on. The owners are really nice, and let her borrow whatever books she wants since she's so incredibly careful with them. A couple of times she even tried writing her own poetry, but she keeps it a little secret journal and doesn't let anyone see it. (Except SQ one time and he said it was really good but she felt horribly self-conscious and they never spoke of it again)

Jackson starts working at a pet store, through a similar relationship SQ has with the owners. At first, he is extremely hesitant and only does menial work like restocking and sweeping. But one day one of the puppies escapes and Jackson happens to be nearby. It runs right at him, and even though it scares him a little he catches it, and when the person in charge gets over there, the puppy is totally calm.

They put him in for a trial period, and after a couple days he gets over his fear and does great. He's much happier working with the animals, and he gets to be one of the head dog trainers. All of the critters love him, and he gets a pet snake at some point, since they can't have dogs in the apartment building. (It's a little corn snake and he names him Jason and he loves him)

One day Mr. Benedict and some of the others come to the bookstore, and Jillson freaks out. She hasn't spoken to them since Curtain, and they'd begged SQ not to tell the Benedicts about them staying with him, so she isn't sure how to react. She isn't even paying attention initially, because she's reading, but when they all come up to the cash register she looks up and freezes. In the end, she just does her job without making eye contact or speaking if she can help it.

Mr. B and the kids try to make her comfortable, though Constance almost asks point-blank what she's doing there, but Reynie shushes her. Jillson comes home that day utterly mortified and locks herself in the bathroom to hyperventilate over the situation. Jackson eventually gets her to come out, and they talk through it.

Jillson feels like they probably hate her, and while she knows better now, neither of them were especially kind to the kids while they were at the Institute. Jackson also regrets his decisions, but right then he's more concerned about Jillson, who has decided she's going to quit her job and never leave the apartment again.

However, once Jackson's mostly got her calmed down, there's a knock at the door. The bookstore owners had been talking about how much help Jillson was, and how excited she got when they let her borrow books, so the kids wanted to bring some of their own for her to look at.

SQ lets them in, and of course J&J are terribly nervous, and Jackson tries to cover it by acting super polite and distracting them from Jillson, who has gotten very quiet, but Sticky and Constance go over and start talking to her about her favourite poets, and once SQ tells them that Jackson is working at the pet shop Reynie and Kate have a lot of questions for him about that.

So the two of them relax, and Mr. Benedict invites them over for dinner, and though they're reluctant, SQ and Martina do a lot of cajoling (Since they're way more comfortable with the Benedicts at this point), and they all go. At the end of the night, both them have apologised to each person at least twice, and they thank Mr. Benedict profusely for being so kind to them.

He, of course, is very gracious and tells them they're welcome any time.

A few days later, the two of them show up with (Slightly burnt) cookies and a full apology speech. It takes them a while to understand that they don't have to work for forgiveness, but Martina and SQ help, and they all end up happier for it

[queerstuffonscreen]

Pretty Little Liars (2010-2017) [I]

Episode length: 40-45 min.

Country: USA

Genre: Drama, Mystery

Language: English

Based on the Pretty Little Liars series of young adult novels by Sara Shepard, the series follows the lives of four girls — Spencer, Hanna, Aria, and Emily — whose clique falls apart after the disappearance of their queen bee, Alison. One year later, they begin receiving messages from someone using the name "A" who threatens to expose their secrets — including long-hidden ones they thought only Alison knew.

Season 1

Episode 1: Pilot

Episode 2: The Jenna Thing

Episode 3: To Kill a Mocking Girl

Episode 4: Can You Hear Me Now?

Episode 5: Reality Bites Me

Episode 6: There's No Place Like Homecoming

Episode 7: The Homecoming Hangover

Episode 8: Please, Do Talk About Me When I'm Gone

Episode 9: The Perfect Storm

Episode 10: Keep Your Friends Close

Episode 11: Moments Later

Episode 12: Salt Meets Wound

Episode 13: Know Your Frenemies

Episode 14: Careful What U Wish 4

Episode 15: If at First You Don't Succeed, Lie, Lie Again

Episode 16: Je Suis Une Amie

Episode 17: The New Normal

Episode 18: The Bad Seed

Episode 19: A Person of Interest

Episode 20: Someone to Watch Over Me

Episode 21: Monsters in the End

Episode 22: For Whom the Bell Tolls

Season 2

Episode 1: It's Alive

Episode 2: The Goodbye Look

Episode 3: My Name Is Trouble

Episode 4: Blind Dates

Episode 5: The Devil You Know

Episode 6: Never Letting Go

Episode 7: Surface Tension

Episode 8: Save the Date

Episode 9: Picture This

Episode 10: Touched by an A-ngel

Episode 11: I Must Confess

Episode 12: Over My Dead Body

Episode 13: The First Secret

Episode 14: Through Many Dangers, Toils and Snares

Episode 15: A Hot Piece of 'A'

Episode 16: Let the Water Hold Me Down

Episode 17: Blond Leading the Blind

Episode 18: A Kiss Before Lying

Episode 19: The Naked Truth

Episode 20: CTRL:A

Episode 21: Breaking the Code

Episode 22: Father Knows Best

Episode 23: Eye of the Beholder

Episode 24: If These Dolls Could Talk

Episode 25: UnmAsked

Season 3

Episode 1: It Happened 'That Night'

Episode 2: Blood is the New Black

Episode 3: Kingdom of the Blind

Episode 4: Birds of a Feather

Episode 5: That Girl Is Poison

Episode 6: The Remains of the 'A'

Episode 7: Crazy

Episode 8: Stolen Kisses

Episode 9: The Kahn Game

Episode 10: What Lies Beneath

Episode 11: Single Fright Female

Episode 12: The Lady Killer

Episode 13: This is a Dark Ride

Episode 14: She's Better Now

Episode 15: Mona Mania

Episode 16: Misery Loves Company

Episode 17: Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Inferno

Episode 18: Dead to Me

Episode 19: What Becomes of the Broken Hearted

Episode 20: Hot Water

Episode 21: Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Episode 22: Will the Circle Be Unbroken?

Episode 23: I'm Your Puppet

Episode 24: A DAngerous GAme

Season 4

Episode 1: 'A' is for A-l-i-v-e

Episode 2: Turn of the Shoe

Episode 3: Cat's Cradle

Episode 4: Face Time

Episode 5: Gamma Zeta Die!

Episode 6: Under the Gun

Episode 7: Crash and Burn, Girl!

Episode 8: The Guilty Girl's Handbook

Episode 9: Into the Deep

Episode 10: The Mirror Has Three Faces

Episode 11: Bring Down the Hoe

Episode 12: Now You See Me, Now You Don't

Episode 13: Grave New World

Episode 14: Who's in the Box?

Episode 15: Love ShAck, Baby

Episode 16: Close Encounters

Episode 17: Bite Your Tongue

Episode 18: Hot for Teacher

Episode 19: Shadow Play

Episode 20: Free Fall

Episode 21: She's Come Undone

Episode 22: Cover for Me

Episode 23: Unbridled

Episode 24: 'A' is for Answers

Watch on HBO Max or Hulu

See Pretty Little Liars post II season 5-7

[emiemi345]

I think I'm ready to give the Mankeys more Chestnuts and finish the game 🤭

[gghostwriter]

One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[ddejavvu]

Can you do a spencer reid with a bau reader who is younger and very atractive and when the bau are coming to see him at his apartment for whatever reason and use the key (derek probably has one ngl) they just find a mess of clothes everywhere and them just asleep together

When they wake up they are like:👀😶

Bau: 😏😏

They're not snooping, per se, but the BAU are profilers by nature, and it's not hard to spot the neon pink bra that's abandoned by the side of Spencer's recliner.

"Uh, I think pretty boy's mom has kinda aged outta stuff like this," Derek holds up the bra by one single strap, indicating the lacy cutouts that leave very little to the imagination, "Unless she's got a boyfriend we don't know about, and Spence let her have his place for the night?"

"Oh, come on, is it so hard to believe Spence has a woman here?" JJ pleads, but when she gets several 'subtle' glances from the rest of her team, she relents with a sigh, "Oh, fine. Maybe it accidentally fell into his basket at the laundromat."

"Spencer doesn't go to the laundromat," Emily recites, "Because he has 'no way to realistically verify that their machines are sanitized within proper health regulations'."

"Oh, dude, that man is a wet blanket," Derek scoffs, "But don't tell him I said that- he'll probably start on a tangent about mildew."

"We should leave," Hotch proposes, standing by the door where he'd been trying to keep up an air of polite disinterest despite his intent glances around the apartment, "His keys are hung up by the door, so I'm sure we're just not getting a response from him because he's sleeping. And if he woke up he'd kill you all for wearing shoes on his carpet, so it's in everyone's best interest to leave."

"Hold on!" Penelope gushes, "I just want to check!"

She creeps towards Spencer's bedroom, but at JJ's insistent, 'Shoes!', she chucks her heels back towards the door. One hits its intended blonde target, but the other whacks Derek in the arm, and Hotch is surprised that the dramatics that ensue don't wake Spencer from where he's presumably sleeping. He's sure Penelope will offer to kiss it better.

Penelope tiptoes towards the bedroom door, peering inside the small gap that he'd left before laying down, and finding a Spencer-sized lump under the covers. She nearly turns when she notices that it's larger than just Spencer-sized, and-

"Ooooh, guys," She rushes back to the living room, voice barely hushed enough not to wake you, "He's got a girl in there!"

Derek's victory fist-pump is accompanied by a whispered, 'My man!', but Emily reaches for a pen that's resting in the breast pocket of her blazer. She takes the bra from where Derek had set it on the arm of the couch, rooting around for a post-it in Spencer's drawer and finding a stack of them neatly tucked into the front-right corner. Typical. Just the way he does it at work.

While Penelope describes how close the two of you were sleeping beside each other- 'not an inch apart, guys, they were totally spooning!' - Emily scrawls a neat message on the post-it, dotting the I with a heart.

'Congratulations, Spencer and Mystery Girl!' She writes, leaving the sticky note over the lingerie that she sets on his countertop, 'Tell him to bring you around the office sometime soon - your bra is gorgeous, I need to know where you got it ~ Prentiss <3'

[reiderwriter]

🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?” 

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder. 

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page. 

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder. 

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside. 

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept. 

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his. 

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.” 

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

“Only because you know you're wrong.” 

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity. 

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.” 

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock? 

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day. 

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed. 

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual. 

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth. 

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here. 

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him  wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent. 

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.” 

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment. 

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke. 

“Yes?” 

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.” 

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly. 

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more. 

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.” 

“Where are your manners?” 

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.” 

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do. 

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again. 

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well. 

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear. 

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.” 

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you. 

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture. 

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered. 

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour. 

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it. 

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.” 

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.” 

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play. 

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open. 

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you? 

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent  but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately. 

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened. 

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second. 

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping. 

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.” 

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same. 

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.” 

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video. 

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could. 

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all. 

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either. 

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case. 

“Spencer, wh-” 

“Watch and see, princess.” 

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you. 

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there. 

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge. 

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders. 

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app. 

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again. 

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.” 

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion. 

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter  holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want. 

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing. 

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers. 

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down. 

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg. 

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot. 

[pathologicalreid]

separation anxiety | S.R.

spencer's first case back from paternity leave involves children, so a concerned party reaches out to you for help

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, vaguely described breastfeeding, word count: 1.28k a/n: this is technically the reid family from cryptic, but you don't have to read cryptic in order to understand this fic.

Your book rested in your lap as you pinched the thin paper of the novel between your index finger and your thumb. You had one foot on the ground, and the other was on the bottom of your daughter’s stroller, effectively rocking the stroller in two-four time so the infant would stay asleep.

Just because the A-Team wasn’t around didn’t mean there weren’t people working in the BAU. A crying baby would certainly disrupt the workflow in the bullpen – even if the baby belonged to a member of the BAU. Although, you had already fed her – mostly covered – at Spencer’s desk, so maybe you were past the point of no return.

You and baby Nellie had just been staring at each other at home – she was doing tummy time – when your phone went off. A mysterious text from Derek Morgan had popped up on your phone screen.

Derek Morgan: Got a sec?

It wasn’t that you and Derek never texted, it’s just that it was usually under the realm of “on my way” messages and, more recently, baby pictures, but you usually communicated indirectly using a massive group chat that was created by none other than Penelope Garcia.

So, when you answered and he asked if you’d be able to meet the team when they arrived at Quantico, you hesitantly said yes. He explained more once they were on the jet, the case that they had been on involved young children, and there was a little girl that had struck a particular chord with your boyfriend – who was on his first case back from paternity leave.

Eleanor was three months old, and you weren’t sure who’d have a harder time being away from one another – her or Spencer. You hadn’t considered how Spencer would feel when confronted with a case involving children now that he was a father. Quite frankly, you had hoped that he would’ve had more time before he needed to face a situation like that.

You waited, still using your foot to rock Nell’s stroller as the cover diffused the fluorescent light, you could hear her moving now, likely having woken up from her nap, but if she wasn’t crying, you saw no reason to stop her from playing with the colorful toys that dangled above her.

Sighing, you peered up from your book to see the elevator opening on the sixth floor, revealing the team behind the steel doors. Morgan clocked you first, winking as he passed through the glass doors to the bullpen.

Spencer hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, so you slowly opened the cover of the stroller and picked your daughter up, holding her gently to your chest. The infant fussed a bit while she was being moved, effectively gaining the attention of her father, whose face lit up at the sight of his family waiting for him at his desk.

Pushing past the rest of the team, who had also noticed the small being in the room by this point, Spencer approached his desk, haphazardly dropping his bag on the metal surface before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Before even bothering to separate your lips, he was taking the baby from your arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling away from you slowly as he secured the baby in his arms, bending his neck to place his lips on the crown of Nell’s head, “I missed you, angel girl.” His voice was gentle as you looked on fondly, she reached out a small hand and gripped the collar of his shirt. “How are you?” He asked, turning his attention back onto you.

You smiled at the two of them, using a cloth to wipe the drool from her chin before Spencer took it from you, deftly draping it over his shoulder in case he needed it shortly. “Good,” you answered, “tired,” you added.

Across the bullpen, Emily waved at Eleanor, grinning broadly as she walked over to her desk with JJ. To her enjoyment, the baby responded by letting out a coo and smiling before turning her attention to her dad, nuzzling her face in his chest, “Did I miss anything?”

Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, leaning back and sitting on Spencer’s desk, “She pushed herself up on her arms yesterday.” It wasn’t a massive milestone – you were still grateful that Spencer had been present for her first real smile.

“Oh, yeah?” He responded, proudly looking down at his daughter, who had moved on from nuzzling and was now trying to see just how much of her hand she could fit in her mouth. “Did you know that babies usually go through a sleep regression right before they learn a new skill?” He asked, directing the question at Nell, “That must be why your mama looks so tired.”

You waved him off, crossing your arms in front of your stomach, “She’s lucky she’s so cute.”

The familiar click-clack of heels notified you that Penelope Garcia had made it to the party, likely signaled by another member of the team, “The cutest little girl in the world!”

Even though every member of the team had held your daughter at one point or another, you weren’t entirely comfortable with her being handed off like a hot potato. This, combined with Spencer’s aversion to germs, led to an unspoken rule: wait until one of her parents offered to let you hold her.

“Did you want to take her for a bit?” You offered, looking over at Spencer as you did. He needed time with her, it wasn’t your intention to deprive him of that, but you needed to check in with him without the distraction of the baby. Handing her off, you spoke up, “Watch your earrings,” you tapped on your earlobe, “She will grab them.”

As Garcia held the baby, she made her way around the bullpen, allowing Eleanor to make grabby hands at everyone and everything.

Keeping an arm around his waist, you looked up at your boyfriend, “Are you alright?” You asked, keeping your voice low as there was no sense in airing your concerns to the now bustling office.

Spencer’s smile faltered ever so slightly, “They were just kids. There have been kids before, but now…”

“Now you’re a dad,” you finished for him. “It’s not just something that you could see happening to someone else; it’s something you could see happening to yourself.” Pinching his side slightly, you smirked at him knowingly, “You know, your levels of empathy and sensitivity increase when you become a parent. Your brain adjusts to make yourself a better parent.”

Rolling his eyes slightly, Spencer raised his eyebrows at you, “You know, I vaguely remember telling you something very similar last week when you were crying at an ASPCA commercial.”

You reached up to ruffle his hair, “Nice try at sarcasm, babe, but you and I both know you never vaguely remember anything.”

“How did you know to come here? That I’d need to see her?” Spencer asked, watching as Penelope continued to parade around the BAU, now taking her up the stairs and through the roundtable room. “Was it a mother’s intuition?” He suggested, taking up a lighter tone.

Turning around, your eyes followed Garcia as she walked with Eleanor, “I was contacted by a concerned party.”

Spencer followed your gaze, “I’ll thank Garcia when she gives our baby back.”

You hummed, “Actually, it was Derek, he-“ Your voice cut off abruptly, “Oh, Penny, I told you she’d grab them!” You called from Spencer’s desk, but Garcia was already on her way to return Eleanor, holding one hand to her ear as she handed the baby back to Spencer.

[oh-the--places--you-will-go]

crAcked: Chapter 1

Characters: Aria Montgomery, Spencer Hastings, Hanna Marin, Emily Fields, Alison DiLaurentis, Mike Montgomery, Byron Montgomery, Ella Montgomery, Darren Wilden, Melissa Hastings, Ian Thomas, Ezra Fitz

TW: Suicide mention, grooming, fatphobia, ED, bullying, murder

Word Count: 2,057

Author's Note: This is a PLL fanfic that I mainly started writing for myself. I'm a die hard PLL fan but, like a lot of other people, I was thoroughly disappointed with a lot of their choices so I decided to try my hand at writing what I wanted to happen in the story. I've never written fanfic, as most of my writing experience has been via Tumblr rp's but I thought I'd give this a try!

September 1st, 2009. That was a night that Aria Montgomery would never forget, not for as long as she lived. That was the night that everything had changed.

It’d be silly to ever think that she could erase those memories from her brain, so she didn’t even try. Instead, she had decided to accept it–after all, what else was there to do? Things had happened–things that were never supposed to happen. Yet, the events of that September night had changed everything. As Lady Macbeth famously said, “What is done cannot be undone.”

By sunrise, the whole town of Rosewood knew that blonde bombshell queen bee Alison DiLaurentis was missing and nothing would ever be the same again.

Even now, after a year had passed, Aria was still unsure about how she felt about the entire situation. As she unpacked her boxes and placed her books back in their rightful place, she thought about everything that had happened and the impact her choices had had upon everyone.

One thing was for certain–she was grateful to be back in her own bedroom. The warm, dark wood of her bedroom floor and bed frame were certainly much cozier than the cold, white walls she had grown accustomed to this past year. It felt good to be back at home again.

Of course, to the outside world, she’d been away on a special study abroad program in Iceland this past year, an incredible opportunity that had happened to arise in Aria’s time of need. Her little brother, Mike, had even agreed to try to keep her Facebook page updated with beautiful pictures of the stunning fjords of Reykjavik. However, the truth of Aria’s whereabouts were much more…complicated, per se, than a study abroad trip to Iceland.

She’d spent this past year locked away hiding away in Radley Medical Center, trying to repair her fragmented mental state. After September 1st, it hadn’t taken very long at all for her parents, Byron and Ella, to figure out that her best friend’s friend’s disappearance had taken a serious toll on her mental health. As soon as the “MISSING PERSON” fliers went up, Aria just about lost it. After attempting to take her own life near the end of September 2009, her parents felt as if they had no other choice but to try and get her the help that she needed.

However, in the town of Rosewood, being “mentally ill” was not acceptable, or even relatable–sure, everyone had their own struggles but you kept that quiet and to yourself. It was the “polite” thing to do. Besides, after Aria had woken up in a hospital room, realizing her attempt had been unsuccessful, she couldn’t face her friends–hell, it was nearly impossible to face her own family, especially her little brother. Therefore, it was decided: Aria would go to Radley Medical Center in order to heal, and no one would ever know. To the outside world, she’d be experiencing an incredible opportunity overseas in Iceland and none would be the wiser.

It was quite the ruse and honestly, her parents had been a little unsure about the entire thing. Sure, people who were open about their family problems were judged harshly in Rosewood but who even cared about petty scrutiny and gossip if their daughter wasn’t okay? But it was Aria that had begged her parents to keep the truth a secret, only letting the principal of Rosewood High School know what was actually going on so she could continue her studies.

Now, after nearly twelve straight months of intensive therapy and “rest,” Aria was ready to return to the real world of Rosewood and continue on with her life. Still, the night of September 1st, 2009 still haunted her–more than anyone would ever know.

In just a few weeks–and still, years from now–the town of Rosewood would be full of gossip: gossip about a particularly handsome new teacher and his apparent penchant for underage girls. Yes, by now, it’s no secret that Ezra Fitz had been taken with Aria Montgomery when they first met at the Hollis Pub the day before school started. However, what a lot of people don’t mention is how Ezra was able to manipulate his way into Aria’s life and strike when she was most vulnerable.

You’ll come to find very soon that everyone in the town of Rosewood has flaws and secrets–absolutely everyone. But some things are more forgivable than others. And what was unconditionally unforgivable was a grown man preying on the innocent young girls of Rosewood High. Ezra had zeroed in on Aria and was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

After all, Ezra was already well aware of Aria’s own secret–well, at least one of them. You see, during his junior and senior year at Hollis, he had heard rumors about Professor Montgomery and one of his grad students. Now, Ezra didn’t usually listen to gossip–he believed himself to be above all of that. However, it had become rather difficult to simply ignore the rumors about a professor taking advantage of one of his students. Though he’d never actually had a class with Professor Montgomery, he knew of him and figured that the rumors were probably true.

Once he put two and two together–that Aria was the daughter of Bryon Montgomery–he knew that he had an in. He was aware that it was rather ironic. But this was different, he told himself. Ezra knew she was in a susceptible position–she needed guidance, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on. That’s what Ezra told himself and that’s what he set out to do. Truthfully, as cunning as she was, Aria never stood a chance against someone so sinister.

However, that didn’t mean that Aria didn’t have her own ammunition. Sure, her family was holding on by a thread–but the other girls had their own secrets, too. They always had. Luckily, Aria had always been incredibly observant. Though she could certainly have her moments of outspokenness, she also knew how to sit back and listen. One could learn a lot of information when they were simply listening.

Take Hanna Marin, for example. Poor little Hefty Hanna–Aria had always detested that nickname that Alison had placed upon Hanna’s head. It was cruel and unnecessary. But Alison was the queen bee and whatever she said simply…was. However, anyone with eyes could see the toll that it took on Hanna. Aria remembered that one time, during a sleepover, the girls had been enjoying chick flicks and ice cream. They had been watching Mean Girls, one of Alison’s favorites. Aria always assumed it was because she viewed herself as Regina George.

Just before the Burn Book fight scene started–arguably one of the best scenes in the film–Hanna had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Aria thought it a bit odd but continued watching and laughing along with the other girls. But the minutes continued to pass and Hanna still wasn’t back. Curious, Aria mentioned checking on Hanna and got up off the couch and headed to the bathroom, her feet padding on the hardwood floor. When she got to the bathroom door, the unmistakable sounds of retching came from the other side of the door. Aria gave a small knock on the door. “Hanna?... Are you okay?” Hanna cleared her throat and quickly said “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”

Sure, Aria probably should’ve said something about it–but what could she say? Hanna was clearly embarrassed, you could hear it in her voice. Wouldn’t it just make it worse to question her about it? Aria tried to tell herself that maybe Hanna’s stomach had just been acting up but deep down, she knew the truth. She knew how Alison made Hanna feel like shit about her body–honestly, it wasn’t very surprising that Hanna would attempt to find comfort in bingeing and purging. It made Aria’s heart sink but what else could she do?

As far as Spencer and Emily went, their secrets weren’t too difficult to figure out, either. Really, all you had to do was have eyes. The way Spencer so desperately wanted to be like her older sister, Melissa, was obvious to everyone. On top of that, the brains of their group suddenly seemed to become a brainless lovestruck girl whenever her sister’s skeezy boyfriend, Ian, walked into the room. He was not only her field hockey coach but, as everyone figured, most likely her future brother-in-law as well. However, no one could deny the brunette’s heart eyes whenever Ian cracked a subpar joke.

Emily was somehow even more obvious. Between the odd comments from Alison and the way you could practically feel Emily’s giddiness radiating from her every time the blonde bombshell simply spoke, it was clear to anyone with a brain that Emily was in love with Alison. Not to mention the time that Aria had accidentally overheard one of their conversations during another infamous sleepover. She’d forgotten her phone in Emily’s room and when she was approaching the doorway, she overheard the distinct sing-song sweetness of Alison’s voice. It was the voice she used whenever she really, really wanted something

“Look, Em, I’m sorry that I was so mean to you the other day in the locker room. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just… I just don’t feel…that way. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t still kiss–but only if you want to, of course.”

Alison’s voice was sugary sweet and full of softness–god, she was such a manipulative bitch. Don’t fall for it, Em, Aria thought to herself. But then, seconds later, Aria could hear the undeniable sounds of lips locking, so she slipped back downstairs and never told another soul.

Truth be told, Aria was mildly horrified at the state of her friend group when she returned to Rosewood High. The girls hadn’t even tried to remain close to one another? The brunette realized that it was going to be a lot more difficult to get her friends back together than she initially thought.

What horrified her even more, though, was the face that she saw at the front of the classroom during first period on the very first day of junior year. It was none other than Ezra, the man boy from the bar. He looked just as equally horrified to see her face and she was certain that he’d never speak to her again. And honestly, if he were even half a decent man, he would have quit his job right then and there–but of course, “decent” was the last word anyone would use to describe Ezra Fitz.

The situation with her English teacher might’ve fully taken over Aria’s brain that night if it hadn’t been for the sirens that began to ring out around 9PM, just as Aria was about to get ready for bed. The sirens were down the street but something made Aria’s blood run cold and she followed that feeling out onto the sidewalk. Sure enough, the sirens were just a few streets over, down by the DiLaurentis house. Oh, fuck.

Alison DiLaurentis’ body was found buried under the gazebo her parents had put up the previous summer. The backyard had been under construction at the time, making it the perfect place to dispose of a body.

The day of Alison’s funeral was what finally brought all the girls back together. They sat with each other in the same pew, as if no time had ever passed. While waiting for the service to begin, the four girls realized that they’d all been getting messages from a mysterious person who signed their messages with nothing but an “A.” Was it “A” for Anonymous? It couldn’t have been “A” for Alison. After all…her body was lying in a closed casket just feet away from them.’

However, it wasn’t until the very end of the service that the girls realized how serious all of this was. Detective Wilden, a hot shot police officer, approached the girls and vowed to find out what happened the night that Alison disappeared, which sent a chill down Aria’s spine. Just as he walked away, all of the girls’ cell phones eerily rang at the same time and the threatening message stared back at them through the screen:

“I’m still here, bitches, and I know everything - A”

[thegarden-ofeden]

pretty little liars moodboard, icons, and playlists

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𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

“a”

spencer hastings

aria montgomery

alison dilaurentis

hanna marin

emily fields

mona vanderwaal

toby cavanaugh

ezra fitz

caleb rivers

ꪶ 🪞 ꫂ ˖ like or reboot, please.