7. not afraid anymore

𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺.this chapter doesn't necessarily include public sex? but there is a risk of being heard.• praise kink • degradation

"Penelope," you audibly groaned, chasing her down the hall as she led you to her office, her heels clacking against the flooring as she teasingly ignored you. "For the last time, nothing happened!"

Garcia pushed the door to her office open, swiveling her head around to look at you as a wide smile overtook her lips. "The fact that I just saw you pull up in a car with none other than Dr. Spencer Reid," she said, giving you a wink, "says otherwise."

You shook your head at her, saying quickly to her, "That? That was nothing. We hung out before coming into work. That's all."

"Is it?"

Your heart raced at her words, clenching your jaw anxiously as you prayed that she didn't see anything else. "Yes. That's it," you said to her, balling your hands into fists. "Nothing else happened."

"Why were you hanging out in the first place?" Garcia asked, striding into her office, you following her as she dropped into her desk chair, cupping her chin as she grinned at you, looking at you expectantly.

"He asked if I wanted to go to one of those silly film festivals that he's into and since everyone always turns him down, I figured I'd take one for the team and just go. Why is it such a big deal? It's no different than if you or JJ were to go with him," you said to her.

"It is different," Garcia giggled, spinning around in her seat as she smirked at you. "JJ's married and, well, as handsome as the boy genius is, I don't think in any universe I could ever be sexually attracted to him. You, on the other hand— you're single-"

"-As well as half the people are in this building."

"You're absolutely stunning," Garcia added, counting on her fingers as she continued, ignoring your ineffectual response. "Boy wonder's had his on eye you from the moment you stepped foot into the BAU."

"Not true!"

"You're the youngest on the team," she continued, grabbing a fluffy, pink pen off her desk and clicking it, laughing as you glared at her, heat flooding your cheeks. "You're witty, easy to talk to, and you have a heart of gold. I mean, you're perfect for the boy genius!"

"Penny, stop. Reid and I are never going to happen. End of story," you told her. "We hung out. I don't see what the big deal is! Spencer and I are just friends. Nothing more."

"Just friends?"

"Just friends."

"Hmm..." Garcia paused, taping the pen against her chin for a moment as she looked at you, grinning as she said, "You see— it's the way you said it, though. Like I'm not the one you're trying to convince— you're trying to convince yourself."

Your jaw fell open at her words, reaching out to grab one of her pink plush unicorn toys and throwing it at her, watching it as it hit her in the shoulder. "That's not true! Don't say that," you said, crossing your arms. "He's one of my best friends. I could never see myself with him— ever. Now, look me in the eye and promise me that when you go blabbing to JJ and Morgan about this, because I know that you will, you'll get your story straight."

"And what story is that?"

"That Reid and I are just friends— nothing more."

"Sweet cheeks," Garcia giggled, reaching out to take your hands in hers, tilting her head to the side as she smiled sweetly at you, "I may not be a profiler, but I can spot a girl in trouble from a mile away."

"You're reaching, Garcia," you said, tapping your hand lightly against her cheek. "I still love you, though. I gotta go. I'm late for briefing with Hotch."

Turning on your heels, you left her office, wrapping your arms around yourself as you made your way into the bullpen, chewing apprehensively on your lip as you tried to ignore Garcia's words that were blaring at you in your mind.

~~~

"Victoria Hoffman— she was twenty-five years old. Last Friday night, she was clubbing with her sister and a stranger, a white male, roughly her age, picked her up. Her sister said that they left the club at 1 a.m. and went back to her place," you explained, hitting buttons on the remote in your hand as you brought images of the crime scene up on the screen for the team to see. "He forced her on her hands and knees and then he cut her open just below the stomach."

"The gutting causes the intestines to spill out," you heard Reid say, refusing to look at him as you noticed Garcia smirking at you, not wanting to feed further into her fantasies. "You can survive for a few hours, even days, actually."

"Postmortem indicates that he slit her throat at 5 a.m.," you said.

"So he disemboweled her," Rossi commented, "but didn't kill her for four hours."

"Could be a sexual sadist," JJ said.

"Yeah, I thought so, too, but then I found two other priors from over a year ago," you said, bringing more images up on the screen. "They were prostitutes, actually— in motel rooms."

"What makes you think it's the same unsub?" Hotch asked, looking at you.

"In Victoria Hoffman's apartment, bleach, ammonia, and trash bags were all discovered laying in a triangular pattern on the floor beside her body," you replied. "One year ago, in the motel rooms, bleach, ammonia, and trash bags were discovered, also in a triangular pattern."

"He's cleaning up," JJ said.

"Maybe trying to hide his tracks," Morgan added.

"Could be a sign of remorse," Spencer suggested.

"Apologizing for the murder by minimizing the mess," Rossi said.

"There was one other commonality between the sets of murders, though," you announced, the team looking over at you. "Bleach and ammonia were found under each of the victim's fingernails."

"He's making them clean up their own murder," Morgan noted.

"It's the same unsub," Hotch said, nodding his head approvingly at you. "Let's go. Wheels up in thirty."

~~~

We never got a chance to talk.

Your heart swelled as you noticed the text from Reid, clicking on it as you briefly glanced over at him sitting across from you on the jet before typing back to him, Sorry. Didn't want Garcia to get anymore ideas.

She didn't see anything, did she?

No. She just thinks that we went out on a date.

You watched the bubbles flash across your screen as he typed a response back to you, taking your bottom lip anxiously between your teeth. You waited for his response, your heart thundering inside your chest, only for the bubbles to disappear a moment later.

Okay, well, fuck that bastard then.

Tapping your thumbs pettily against the screen, you started to type back a hasty response to him.

Bathroom.

The text made your heart jolt, hearing shuffling from across the jet as you watched Spencer stand from his seat, striding past you, side-eyeing you as he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You didn't move at first, but then a second text blurbed across your screen.

That was an order.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes grazed over the darkened cabin, making sure that everyone was asleep. It was past midnight— you'd already been flying for three hours. You stood from your seat, setting your phone down on the table and smoothing your hands over your skirt before you walked over to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

The door swung open and Reid appeared, grabbing your wrist as he yanked you inside, closing the door behind you. He whirled around, pinning you against the wall with his hand, darkness flooding his eyes. "I don't punish you enough," he muttered to you, hooking his finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

You felt your heart surge with excitement, exhilaration pumping through your veins as his hand worked the buttons of your shirt between his fingers, grinning up at him as he growled to you, "I've let you get away with being a brat for far too long."

"But it's so fun," you giggled.

"Don't start. Do you remember your safe word?"

"Piano," you nodded, groaning as Spencer slipped his fingers into your bra, taking your nipple between his fingers and pulling it, his other hand clapping over your mouth as he looked at you, giving you a warning look.

"You need to be quiet," he said, dragging his hand down your body, pushing the hem of your skirt up as he hooked his fingers around your panties, dragging a finger up your slit. "I don't want the team to wake up."

"You drive me fucking crazy," he said to you, his finger brushing lightly over your cheek before he pulled you forward, crashing his lips into yours. The kiss was intense— passion and yearning burning through, Spencer taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling, a small whine leaving you. "To the point that I have to fuck you on the fucking jet."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying your hardest to sound like a brat as he pushed a finger into you, you failing miserably as he curled it inside you, a groan rushing past your lips.

"I can't keep my hands off you," he said, his voice strained with desire as he spoke. "You're so fucking addicting." Spencer yanked your panties down, throwing them to the side before he fumbled with his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down, his hardened dick hitting his stomach. "Have you been tested?" He asked, pulling your leg up over his hip as his hand moved to grip your ass, holding you up.

"Yes," you whimpered, his dick at your entrance, pushing against you. You bucked your hips, rasping to him, "I- I'm clean."

"Birth control?"

"Yes, I- I'm on the pill. Oh, fuck, Spencer. Hurry up and fuck me already." You grinded against him, hearing him groan as his hand slipped beneath your other thigh, pulling you up over his waist. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him closer to you as you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, biting down on your lip.

"You're so needy," he growled at you, gripping your ass as he pushed you against the wall, holding you there. "I'm clean too, just so you know."

That being said, he pushed into you, filling you, his mouth falling open as he clenched his jaw, his eyes meeting yours as he started to thrust. You tilted your head back, digging your nails into his skin as you gasped. He pulled one hand away from your ass, moving it to your clit as he started to it rub it in time with each thrust. "Fuck," you whined.

Spencer grunted softly as he leaned into you, bringing his lips beside your ear as he whispered, "Does that feel good, darling?"

You whimpered in response, nodding your head as his teeth grazed your earlobe, pulling on it gently. You whined under your breath, moving your hands to his hair, threading your fingers through his soft curls. "Use your words, (Y/N)," he said to you, angling his hips to thrust deeper inside you, a whine rolling past your lips as ecstasy flowed freely through your veins, a rush of excitement jolting throughout your entire body.

"Yes," you whimpered.

"You're always such a good girl with my dick inside you," he said, a chill racing down your spine as he pounded against your g-spot, biting your lip to keep yourself from groaning. "But you're such a naughty little slut when I'm not fucking you. If the team wasn't just outside this door, I swear, I would make you bend over this counter and spank you until they could hear your screams at Quantico."

"Oh, fuck," you whined, clenching around him as he brought his teeth down on you collarbone, his lips ghosting over your skin as he groaned, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the knot formed in your lower stomach as your orgasm started to build. Your hand flew to your mouth as you moaned against your palm, squeezing your eyes shut as the gratifying bliss completely overtook you, giving all of you over to Spencer Reid, letting him have his way with you as you dissolved into his presence.

His thumb moved over clit, rubbing it in circular motions as his thrusts started to stagger, nearing his own descent into mystifying pleasure. "Ugh," he groaned, pulling his head away from you as he brought his lips to your ear, whispering, "Come for me, darling. Be a good girl and come."

Opening your eyes, you bit down on your lip, holding in a groan as you unraveled in Spencer Reid's arms, his thrusts faltering as you came around his dick, a string of muffled, quiet moans rolling off your tongue. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat as he hung his head, grimacing as his dick throbbed inside you and he came, holding you against the wall as he sucked in a breath, holding back a moan.

He helped you to your feet, your legs quivering as you watched him pull his pants and boxers back on, turning away from you as he grabbed a wad of toilet paper. He knelt down in front of you, placing a hand over your hip as he cleaned away the mess that was slipping quickly down your thighs, his touch featherlight as he moved his hands over your body, rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

"You okay?"

Spencer looked at you as he helped you pull your panties back on, smoothing his hands over your skirt as you smiled at him, nodding your head at him. "Yeah, I'm fine," you laughed, watching him as he stood, gazing into your eyes. "Can't say the same for my skirt, though." You motioned to the visible wrinkles in it, looking up at Spencer as he smiled at you.

His hand moved to rest over your cheek, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear before he tugged on it gently. "(Y/N), listen to me. As soon as this case is over," he said, his voice deep and commanding, "you are all mine. No one else's. My play thing. Is that clear?"

You nodded at him

"Use your words, darling."

"Yes, it's clear."

"Good."

His steely glare morphed into reverence, his thumb caressing your cheek before he pulled you in for a soft, sweet kiss, his lips pressing to yours. He pulled away, smiling at you before he walked away, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You leaned against the wall, holding a hand over your chest as sighed, your eyes flicking up to the ceiling.

No, (Y/N). No. Stop. Garcia's wrong. You and Spencer are just friends— nothing more.

Right?

~~~

"We ask the public to listen very carefully to the following description. Anyone who believes they recognize this individual should call our tip line immediately," you spoke to the press, cameras flashing at you as you drummed your fingernails against the podium. "We are looking for a confident, white, twenty-five to thirty year old male who is in excellent, physical shape. He has an obsession with cleaning and most likely works in some sort of service industry, constantly wiping up after others. He is convinced that everyone looks down at him but he still wants to stand out in a crowd. We've discovered that he's taken a class in how to pick up women so he will repeat a series of well-rehearsed lines and mind games. There will be eyes and ears in every club that he frequents from here on out. Thank you so much."

A couple hours later after hosting the press conference, Detective Barnett came into the conference room, a look of concern stretching across his face as he glanced around at the team. "What is it?" Hotch asked, standing from his seat.

"Agent (Y/L/N)?"

You felt your heart stop, your stomach swelling with anxiety as you watched Barnett walk over to you, holding an evidence bag out to you. "I believe this is meant for you," he said, looking at you.

"What is it?" Reid quickly asked, appearing behind you as he leaned over your shoulder to look at the note in your hands.

A note— that's what it was.

A note that was addressed to you.

(Y/N)— You're gonna have to do a lot better than that.