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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 months

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Demonology: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: What makes someone evil? The things they do or because of what’s inside them? If children are born innocent, at what point does evil enter them? Everyone’s beliefs and faiths are tested on a religious level.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"What happened?"

"I think there may be a third victim. We have ligature marks, the Spain connection, and scuff marks under the bed," Emily says.

"Y/N?"

"All I saw were five people in Patrick's room all dressed like priests. Three of them were physically holding Patrick down while one of them performed the exorcism. There isn't evidence to show foul intention. It looked like a real exorcism."

"Hotch, it's weird, but there's no way to physically connect dehydration, a heart attack, and an aneurysm," Derek says.

Hotch looks at the ground in thought, and his eyebrows furrow in concern.

"What's going on?"

"We've had a complaint. JJ's trying to smooth it over with DC police, but we haven't been invited to the case."

Hotch leaves and Emily turns to Derek with anger in her eyes.

"That's how you have my back?"

"Prentiss, I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection."

"Hotch just said he got a complaint, and he didn't come down on you. Do you realize that? You just dodged a bullet. We have to approach this just like we do any other case."

"Emily, you're too close to this case."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You're grieving over your friend dying. You want to see a connection where there may be none."

"That woman couldn't even use Patrick's name. She could only say, 'my fiancé' because she's convinced something else died in that room that night."

It's the way she said it that has you shocked.

"Emily!"

She walks away without another word. Hotch is watching from his office where Rossi is also, and you walk over to them to talk about Emily's behavior. You haven't talked to Emily directly about this, but you've been observing her the whole day. There is something she is hiding about all of this and she won't get anywhere if she doesn't come clean about it.

"Can I talk to you both?" you ask and knock on the door.

"Come in."

"Look, Emily is desperate for answers about her friend. He died and she won't accept that it could have been a heart attack. I'm really worried about her."

"Keep an eye on her. You can read her better than I can," Hotch says.

"You got it."

"As far as the police are concerned, there is no open murder investigation," JJ says and walks into the office. "We have no reason to be investigating if they're not."

"They're right. All we have are three men who died of three very different natural causes."

"We're just going to drop it?" Rossi asks. "Y/N says she saw five people performing an exorcism."

"Dave, do you really believe we're dealing with someone trying to exorcize demons?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Possession, mental illness, exorcist, unsub? Who cares what's true? People are dying."

"He's right, Hotch. This isn't about religion. It's about evil. We attack it with analysis and diligence. I think we should be looking at the churches."

"All hail the mistress of information," Penelope announces her presence. "I got a posting from a web bulletin board by Matthew Benton to create a support group for people who felt betrayed by their faith."

"That explains how the three men came together."

"It gets better. The week the three of them were in Spain, the services at Santiago de Compostela were canceled when the priest there died."

"How?"

"Heart attack, but if you listen to the conspiracy chatter, there is a strong belief he was killed to interrupt services during the height of the pilgrimage."

"How?" JJ asks.

"Their best guess is some kind of gas, sarin or VX, something that wouldn't show up in an autopsy. It could induce stress and cause a heart attack."

"Now we have a motive," you say, "with a potential MO. An eye for an eye."

"Without an invitation from the police, I cannot authorize an investigation. This has to be kept quiet."

Emily is talking to someone by her desk, and based on her expressions, she knows the man. Rossi looks at you and nudges you to follow him, so you let him lead you down to where Emily and her friend are.

"David Rossi and Y/N, this is John Cooley. He was also a friend of Matthew."

"I'm sorry for your loss. Is there anyone he associated with out of the ordinary? Anyone overtly religious?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I've been doing my best to retrace his steps, but I still haven't come up with anything."

"Can we buy you a cup of coffee?" Rossi asks Emily.

"Yeah. I will call you if I hear anything," she says to John. You're not sure why Rossi wants you here, but you can read her better than anyone. Rossi gets both of you coffee, but instead of drinking it at the coffee shop, he takes you two to an abandoned house that's been fenced off. "There are nicer places to take a girl for coffee."

"Have you ever seen The Exorcist?"

"Yeah."

"The real case started right here. The fire department actually burned down the house themselves. The authorities referred to the boy as Robbie Doe. He's still in the DC area today."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"A whole lot of effort went into destroying the house of a kid who probably had onset Schizophrenia or Tourette's Syndrome."

"I'm sorry, I'm not following you."

"You're sure Matthew was murdered. So, what's the story?" Emily immediately becomes closed off, and she can barely look at you. "If you don't want to explain, that's fine but if you do, then I'm all in."

"I can leave if you don't want me here."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry for what I said back there. You didn't deserve that."

"It's okay."

"Matthew knew the bible inside and out, and he started to question everything. We moved around a lot when I was a kid because of my mom's postings. It was hard to get accepted, and when you're fifteen, that's all you want. You'll do almost anything."

"You got pregnant, did you?" Rossi asks.

"Yeah."

"Was Matthew the father?"

"No. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell my mom. Matthew suggested I talk with our priest. He said that if I had an abortion, I wouldn't be welcome in his congregation."

"What did you do?" you ask.

"Matthew found a doctor and took me there. He stayed with me the whole time. That Sunday when we got back to Rome, he held my hand and walked me into the church. Father Gamino actually stopped his sermon, Matthew told me to hold my head up, and we walked to the front pew. He and Matthew just stared at each other. It was like a battle of wills, and then suddenly, Father Gamino went back to his sermon. Matthew saved my life. He made me feel like I was worthy of love and friendship."

"That's when the anger and questioning started, didn't it?"

"Yeah. He started doing drugs, and when that melded with his religious questioning, you can understand why his parents were afraid he was possessed by something evil. It's my fault that Matthew's life unraveled." You get tears at her story because her grief and emotions roll over to you. "You of all people should know how I feel."

"I do." You bring her in for a hug and rub her back soothingly. "Nothing you say or do will change how I view you, how much I respect you, and how much I love you. I am here for you through anything you want to come to me for."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"Garcia uncovered some information. It's possible Matthew and the others killed someone in Spain," Rossi lays it on the line.

"No. I don't believe that."

"I'm just saying if we keep pushing, you have to be prepared for what we might discover."

"I need Matthew to rest in peace. I owe him that," she sighs.

"Then let's give the profile."

"The police haven't invited us in."

"We're not giving it to the police. I believe we're trying to catch a priest who is killing people who he believes to be 'not right' with society. The profile will only do us good if we give it to other priests."

Rossi's friend he visited earlier, Father Davison, gathers all the priests he can in the local area to hear this profile. One of these people knows who your unsub is, and you hope they will come clean and prevent him from killing others. Some aren't too happy to be here, but Father Davison quickly eases their concerns.

"As I was saying to the agents, this is a topic on which we usually agree to silently disagree."

"We respect that," Emily states. "We are not here to examine your beliefs in demonology or exorcism, but we are operating on the theory that the person responsible for these deaths does believe."

"We believe the inciting incident was the death of Father Raul del Toro in Galicia, Spain four months ago."

"How so, David?" Father Davison says.

"There's someone who believes that the death was actually a murder."

"You're not suggesting that this is some kind of retribution, are you?"

"Even a priest can have a psychotic break. He may be under the delusion that he is working for God. The man we're looking for would be obsessed with the event in Galicia. He believes he's fighting evil and may very well have followed these men here to Washington. We also believe that one of the exorcisms took place over enough days for the victim to die of dehydration."

"If I may," Father Davison interrupts, "an exorcism is like a prize fight. It's completely draining, both physically and spiritually. Now, if this man truly performed three rituals within the last few weeks, he would need medical care."

"Is there somewhere he would go?"

"Anything less than a working hospital would be too dangerous."

You and Spencer make eye contact since you two are thinking the same exact thing. You two excuse yourselves from the meeting to call Penelope who is eager to help.

"Garcia, it's Reid and Y/N."

"Speak boy and girl wonder," she grins.

"I need you to run Catholic hospital records. Look for any admissions for exhaustion immediately following Patrick Cavanaugh's death."

"Typing as you speak. I need more."

"Run the same search for the days following the first two deaths," you add.

"Oh, I sense a cross-check in my future."

"Do you have anything?"

"Father Paul Silvano. Currently at St. Agatha's Hospital in room 214."

If Paul is your unsub, then he must know the Feds and police are closing in on him. You're not sure how this is going to go which is why you, Rossi, Emily, and Spencer head to the hospital to talk to him. Four people are enough to overtake him if he decides to try anything. When you get there, Paul is completely calm and collected. He's packing up his things since he's being discharged right now. He doesn't seem too concerned with the Feds coming to him,

From the first sight of him, you know he's the unsub. You can see Thomas, Matthew, and Patrick through him. Their spirits and energies attached themselves to him like a parasite.

He murdered them.

You nudge Rossi and give him two nods to let him know you have your unsub.

"Are you Father Paul Silvano?"

"Yes."

"Were you present at the Deaths of Thomas Valentine, Matthew Benton, and Patrick Cavanaugh?"

"I've been expecting you."

"He asked you a question," Emily glares.

"Yes, I was present."

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say--"

"Guarda nel cassetto del tavolo dietro di te," he says in Italian.

"What did he say?" Spencer asks.

"He wants you to look in the drawer." You walk past them and open the drawer to find papers inside. Upon further examination, you see what these papers truly are. "What is it?"

"It's diplomatic status. He has immunity."

He can't be held liable for a violation of the law in this country. The Italian government must have granted him this when he came over here. It doesn't matter if he has it or not. He was present for all three murders, which makes him a witness. It doesn't seem to bother him when Rossi and Emily take him back to the BAU to be questioned.

In fact, he's as calm as can be. He truly believes he can't get in trouble for whatever he's doing. Emily is fucking pissed at this because she knows he killed her friend, and it's quite clear to everyone else. Not only was he present, but he has immunity which makes him look like a guilty man who is only protected by a piece of paper.

Emily is inside the room with him alone since she requested that you, Rossi, and JJ are outside watching them talk.

"Explain to me why you were the last person in the room when three men died."

"I'm a priest. I was there for them spiritually."

"They weren't on their deathbeds."

"Not physically."

"Did you kill them?"

"No."

"But you're not sorry any of them are dead?"

"Physical death is always sad, but now their souls are in Heaven. For that, their families have peace."

"His record is spotless up until four months ago. There's no history of mental illness. He even got invited to say mass at the Washington National Cathedral," JJ says.

"What happened four months ago?"

"It doesn't provide any details. It just says he took a sabbatical for personal reasons. Four months ago is when that priest died in Spain. It looks like he lobbied the Vatican for a diplomatic posting but they refused. After that, he took the world hunger mission from the Italian Government, which brought him here with immunity."

"Where's Hotch?" Rossi asks.

"He's on the phone with the State Department."

"Gather the others. I'll be there In a second."

JJ leaves and you turn your attention back to Emily and Paul.

"Did you know the priest who died in Galicia?"

"Father Del Toro and I were at seminary together. That's where I met him."

"Did you know that Matthew Benton and the other men were in Galicia the week he died?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe they committed murder?"

"I was contacted by a family member. He was frightened. He told me his real son never returned home from that trip. I said that I could help rid his child of evil."

"What did you tell the other family members after you watched their sons die? That it was God's will?"

"I never laid a hand on anyone with malice in my life."

"Then explain these deaths to me."

"Rossi, she's too close to this," you say. "She shouldn't be questioning him. He killed her friend, and she is grieving. She needs to take a step back."

"You know the power of evil. You've been fighting it a long time. The storm is almost over."

He says something in Italian to her, and she responds in the same language. Rossi doesn't comment on what you said. Instead, he guides you out of the room and over to the briefing room where everyone else is.

"What'd he say?" Spencer asks.

"He claims he was invited by the families, and he has them believing their loved ones are in a better place."

"They're all devout. The people they loved were troubled. With his stature, it's either believe they're in a better place or live with the guilt."

"It doesn't matter. We can't arrest him," you sigh.

"Can we deport him?"

"Probably not. It's crazy. Diplomatic immunity wasn't intended to shield people from murder charges."

"Why doesn't Hotch bypass the State Department and go straight to the Italian Government?" Penelope asks.

"He'll lose his career. The State Department won't risk the potential embarrassment. They'll shut us all down."

"What do we do now?" Spencer asks.

"Did you check his papers with ICE?" you ask Penelope.

"Yeah. His diplomatic status runs till the end of the month."

"That's weird. He told Emily 'The storm's almost over'. Forget priests. Think unsub. He's a believer. He deals in certainties. In his mind, he has a job to do, which doesn't end until the end of the month. The storm's almost over."

"There's another victim on his list."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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stephsycamore · 5 months

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Cm s4 ep 17 demonology!! I generally don't rewatch this episode bc it freaks me out but emily is so good in it!! What a queen. Emily pro choice prentiss!!

It does confuse me tho. Like i'm not sure what to make of the whole dead priest in spain thing. Like who killed that guy??? I think i'm just not paying attention in the past though. So on this rewatch i will be paying attention!!

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #cm 4x17

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confused-pyramid · 2 years

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Masterlist

hi!! fics are listed by fandom :) all fics are with fem!reader unless otherwise specified

✦ = smut

Marvel ⍟

Only Tonight ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank comes to you to get patched up after a rough night on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight it doesn’t go as planned) // 2.8k words

(Un)requited: matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt knows you love him, but he can't bear to put you in danger by being with you) // 1.1k words

Sweet Escape ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank has been coming to you when he needs to let off steam, but after you are put in danger because of him, everything between you two changes) // 4.7k words

Heaven and Back ✦: priest!matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt had always found solace in his religion, but then he met you, and everything he thought he knew about his beliefs fell apart…) // 5.9k words

We'll Be Okay ✦: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader (A series of snapshots through your relationship with Peter) // 4.2k words

Maybe I'm Not Scared: frank castle x karen page (A few moments in time following the events of 1x10 of The Punisher) // 3.2k words

Harry Potter/Marauders ϟ

Sneaking Around ✦: young!remus lupin x potter!reader (You're James' little sister, so when you and Remus want some alone time at a party, you have to sneak away...) // 1.7k words

I Was Wrong ✦ : young!sirius black x slytherin!reader (Sirius always thought you were just like his family: ruthless and cruel. When he finds out how wrong he was, he also learns how similar hate and lust can be...) // 6.4k words

Take Me Where the Music Ain't Too Loud: george weasley x fem!reader (You've had a crush on your best friend's brother for ages, and he only seems to reciprocate when he's drunk...) // 4.3k words (part 1/2)

Save Me Till the Party is Over ✦ : george weasley x fem!reader (Spending the holidays at the Weasley's gets awkward after George drunkenly confesses his feelings for you) // 4.9k words (part 2/2)

Better Not To Give ✦ : draco malfoy x fem!reader (It’s your sixth year at Hogwarts and Draco has been acting different. The more he pushes you away, the more you try to hold on, but at what cost?) // 4.7k words

Criminal Minds 🖿

Back To You ✦ : emily prentiss x fem!reader (You get assigned to help out the BAU, forcing you to work with your ex-girlfriend, Emily) // 5.1k words

While I Breathe, I Hope ✦: aaron hotchner x fem!reader (Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...) // 10.1k words

Anchor series: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader (Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.) // 104.2k words so far

Miscellaneous

It's Always Been You ✦: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x fem!reader (As Iceman’s daughter, you and Rooster grew up together, but your friendship transforms when you are assigned to train for a dangerous mission that’s never been accomplished before) // 5.7k words

Derailed ✦: tangerine x assassin!reader (When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...) // 2.8k words

Damage is Done ✦: rafe cameron x pogue!reader (You and Rafe hooked up when you first moved to the OBX, and he hasn't been able to get you out of his system ever since) // 8.6k words

Breaking Point ✦: art donaldson x fem!reader (You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite) // 3.4k words

#masterlist #master list

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gothprentiss · 1 year

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the devil went down to quantico pt 5 [ previous parts here ]

just realized i never finished posting the scraps of this! probably this is the last part i'm gonna post. word count 3.4k (lol), emily prentiss pov. here's my outline notes as context: sinuous coexistence of multiple minds— q of how, whether, to write this. flashback to matthew; sensations of knowing. some experiences as matthew, patrick, johnny. return to obelisk. touch of angelology here, maybe: like how angels don’t have the same material individuality as humans, it’s not that there are multiple minds within hers, just an accumulation of a particular conative force. connect it with the doyle case: she hasn’t felt right in herself for some time.

Reid wrote his Philosophy Bachelor’s thesis on anattā, the Buddhist concept of ‘not self.’ He’d piled his desk high with library books and written it in a series of long, nocturnal sprints, alternately typing at a rate that seemed astonishingly slow and scribbling like a maniac in one of a series of yellow legal pads he ran through in the process. There was, he told her, head poking over a stack of dusty Sanskrit translations, a fourth century Classical Chinese commentary which presented the story of the traveler and the corpse. His hair stuck up at odd angles. It’s called … what was it? Èr guǐ zhēng shī. He pronounced the tones with careful precision. Two demons fighting for a corpse. An envoy took refuge in an empty house. A demon came in bearing a corpse; a second followed it in, and the two fought over who had carried the body in, and thus owned it rightfully. They asked the man to adjudicate and, realizing there was no pleasing both of them, he resigned himself to his fate and told the truth. The false claimant, enraged, began to tear the man limb from limb. Every part it tore off was replaced by the grateful first demon with the corpse’s corresponding member. Eventually, the man had been entirely reconstructed as the corpse; the demons, now mollified, ate the discarded body of the man. And the man thought, what am I? I’ve seen the body my mother bore entirely destroyed. Do I have a body, or none at all? Am I still a person? Am I still I?

He wandered back homeward until he came to a Buddhist stūpa, and asked there, do I have a body? And the bhikkhus listened and said, congratulations! All by yourself, you’ve severed poisoned roots, the errors of imputing permanence to the impermanent, and self where there never was any. And thence he was awakened from his false view of reality.

Say you were to argue that there was a self, based on the fact that one perceived oneself to occupy a body. If there were no essential basis for this perception, one might perceive that I in the non-contiguous bodies of others as well. After all, without a true or meaningful logic, that I has no real permanence in your current body, and no claim to possess it. In that way, the traveler and the corpse were like the two squabbling demons.

Emily said to him, what about the traveler’s mental continuity? I would lay claim to my body but not yours because I perceive the world relative to this body, not yours.

Reid, delighted, shook a ball-point pen at her, and disappeared behind the books again.

It was the Ship of Theseus problem, but with higher stakes, because it had at its center not a boat you didn’t care about, but the problem of physical existence.

But say it was your mind … Say it wasn’t the body that was negotiable, but the I itself.

Say you were on your knees in tears at the stone feet of Christ, and what was bringing forth the fervor that made you weep was neither material nor cognitive I at all. Say you found yourself face to face with a priest those eyes had never seen before, but the mind remembered, and caused the body to greet that old enemy. Say that was the philosophical limit case. Say you brought that quandary to the bhikkhus. They might have said, Jesus Christ! This is a whole new category of error. Where on earth did you find it?

Wending back in her memory, there was a place where she converged with herself. There was Emily, perched precariously on the side of the tiled gabled dormer that crowned Matthew’s bedroom window. She had to lean far, far out that window to see her; there had been in her chest a thrill of panic, as her fingers, bone-white with exertion, gripped the windowsill with all their might. It wasn’t fear of the fall, but that the fall would bring discovery, and they couldn’t get caught. Emily stared back down at him with a very annoying look on her face. He was met with dark, half-heartedly teased hair and a fifteen-year-old’s best approximation of a weary look. It was sheathed in a long, threadbare black coat and a mismatch of meshes. The fall wasn’t without fear: it would be painful and awful to break a bone over this, an extremely childish choice made by an extremely childish person.

Emily had given up on whatever impression she was trying to project, and furrowed her eyebrows. Her eyeliner creased into odd shapes around her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Maybe she’d looked then as she must look now; wild-eyed, gaunt, at some unknown odds with herself. It had been… there had been something. It had been a long, angry walk in the woods. There had been many of them. On them, he thought he’d understood Emily better, the way that she was mad at the world and couldn’t direct it. It had taken him a while to get past that; after all, the Bentons had it good, but not how the Prentisses did. Oh, so you had to move, from scenic locale to scenic locale, all the while knowing that your fate wasn’t that of the constantly transplanted army brat. No, not you; you got to live everywhere without ever being a newcomer. Ranks closed around her. What was in some settings a narrative of hardships for a college application essay was for her a personal statement. The world has enriched me in the following ways…

There had initially been something gratifying, about how miserable it seemed to make her.

What made him befriend her hadn’t been anything he’d seen in her, or any kinship he might have imagined. The fact that it did make her miserable was lucky for them, because it stopped the situation from becoming worse. What made Matthew sit down next to her at a picnic on the Feast of Corpus Christi was the incredible guilt he’d felt over that resentment, and that mean little spark of glee.

Emily never knew that. He’d seemed so nice, and so recognizably tired of it all. “You’d think they’d put on a better show of this being a holy feast instead of a networking event,” he’d said to her. She’d laughed. They hadn’t met before because her mother’s friends had impressed upon their children how important it was to make Emily Elizabeth Prentiss feel welcome, and so she’d taken up grudging residence on the periphery of a group of older teens who didn’t seem to realize she could understand them when they shit-talked her in Spanish and French. They came from all over, and had picked these languages up here and there. But maybe, she’d thought, that was the point, when the son of some Portuguese diplomat she’d only ever seen in passing stumbled his way around an insult, came up with la salope petite et démoniaque, and literally looked her way. She’d wrinkled her nose back at him. She and Matthew had laughed about that, too.

Emily took up smoking that summer, very obviously because she thought it looked cool. It was her guiding philosophy; she was fifteen. It was odd that Matthew had such an enormous sense of the importance of right action, given that he, too, was fifteen.

In the forest that day, she’d decided. God was one thing. The church, on the other hand, was many others. And it was then, too, that something seemed to move into his mind: Father Gamino had profaned the mass, when he considered rejecting them. Father Gamino would, at some point, be punished. He’d been right to stare him down, to make that cruel old man remember that these were children he was thinking damned beyond his capacity and will to help them. There would be justice, and soon. And then he’d seen the sun shooting up waves of oranges and pinks as it made its way below the horizon, and thought, how odd, wasn’t it just noon? and hurried home, where he knew Emily was probably hiding.

They’d met in secret, that summer. It would have been easier and safer to avoid each other at all costs, but they both felt they shared some terrible unspoken thing, vaster even than the abortion which seemed to have entirely failed to send out ripples in the sleepy, complacent Catholic high society they wandered. Everyone knew something had happened. His parents suspected they’d been sleeping together, or that Emily had gotten him into Drugs. They weren’t sure what kind, but Drugs was what girls who wore too much eyeliner did, and they weren’t about to let their son get involved. Elizabeth Prentiss, maybe for the first time in her life, hadn’t been able to get to the bottom of it, and Emily and Matthew both put up such petulant shows of innocent confusion that she gave up.

One of these days, Father Gamino will go to say his prayers and his mouth will be full of blood.

The problem of memory, of course, was that it gave you a sense of personal coherence. There were movies about this, and books, and philosophy too. This is me, I have it all in my head. The philosophy of the self was more properly about the mind than the body; after all, there would be a body long after the self evacuated it. If not, every sarcophagus and tomb of an incorrupt saint contained the world’s most wretched self, driven to madness by the twin, grinding boredoms of infinity and confinement.

Say those two demons went to the bhikkhus, bellies full of that traveler’s corpse. Do we have a body? Is this traveler ours, whose body we initially possessed? Don’t we now have the right to eat him too? Maybe the traveler would have gone to them, saying, this body is as much yours as it is mine. It had a beatific, incarnational ring. Emily didn’t know enough about Buddhism to know if it had the same faint edge of holiness, to die in a stūpa in the mouth of a demon. But enlightenment must teach you that romanticizing persecution is just the childish fetishization of your own importance.

The first drop of blood that fell from Father Gamino’s mouth dropped, slowly and thickly, into the dead center of the palm of his upturned hand. His last thought was of Padre Pio. He’d worked under Father Carlo Maccari, when he was writing a report on the man. Very softly, as the man padded into their presence, Father Maccari had murmured, arriva il santo! The words dripped malice the way Padre Pio’s hands, allegedly, dripped blood. On those hands were dark gloves; under them, weeping sores. The blood seemed to worm through the center of Father Gamino’s palm, where it filled the one below it. Then he realized his cupped left hand was running over, and his hands were stiff and immobile, two blood-filled rictuses mimicking their source. Then he knew nothing at all.

“I’m going back to Virginia in September,” Emily said. She regarded her. What would that be like, this girl in DC? “My—Elizabeth thinks I’d be better off there.” A grin, then, huge in a way her face wasn’t quite ready to accommodate, white teeth lurid against fading maroon lipstick.

It wasn’t like she needed the international education. It was a feather in your cap, if you happened to be one of the unlucky sort whose parents worked internationally but didn’t have legacy status anywhere up the family tree. Emily needed another cap for all her feathers. He was pretty sure Elizabeth Prentiss was planning to just drop Emily off at Princeton the September after she graduated, without even glancing at an application or interview.

Reid had been a nightmare, that spring. The only thing he had to do for the degree was that thesis, and he poured himself into it the way he poured himself into all his other endeavors of mind. The paper swapped his typical stream of factoids for a single, concentrated source, which just so happened to be 100,000 lines of Buddhist philosophy. It was obvious why he liked the field: he didn’t know Sanskrit, or Pali, or the Classical Chinese that housed the text he was writing on. It was a new thing to explore, to add to whatever tapestry of life all this higher education was helping him to weave in his head. The nightmare part was getting him to sleep, or leave. He’d occasionally drift off on top of a book, then appear again over the new wall of documents and monographs he’d built around his desk.

Emily began to suspect, very quickly, that he’d taken up interest in the text’s explication of suññatā because of his mother. In most academic settings, that would have been far more Freudian than it was. Reid merely stared down the two in barrels of his family medical history, psychosis and senility, and then turned to look at metaphysics instead. Emptiness, voidness, the essential non-essential nature of any given phenomenon, or dharma. This necessitated a destruction of emptiness itself.

“I can’t tell if that destruction is processual,” Reid said, “or given. It’s presented in terms of process towards enlightenment, but is also the epistemological ground for gaining enlightenment. It’s not that you destroy the essential self or nature of the eye or body, but that it was never there.”

Emily watched him, and wondered idly if he’d considered that he didn’t have to write this paper on this timescale. Doubtless he was already getting the degree. Doubtless this could be a matter of long-term exploration for him, which would alleviate both the desperately seeking air he’d taken on recently, and the absolute confusion he now instilled in strangers. You know, in the DZDL it’s demonstrated that… didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in beat cops. Nor did his explanation of what it was.

“Does it actually say destruction?” It wasn’t clear to her if she was helping him or not, but she felt some obligation. For all the fine mathematical tuning of his mind, the niceties of translation and analysis always seemed like second-order processes in a hierarchy he couldn’t quite descend. She had no doubt that, given a summer, he could wrap his head around Sanskrit; ten verb tenses didn’t strike fear into his heart the way they would a man with a mind that couldn’t work by paradigm. It was just what that Sanskrit held would be trickier.

“I don’t … know?” His hand went to his hair again, and fisted there.

“Well, it sounds like a lot of process towards enlightenment is predicated on the destruction of an idealist mentality.” Reid nodded. She considered the deep circles under his eyes and decided he could have that small condescension. “So that’s a process of destroying errors, isn’t it?”

He squinted.

“Aren’t these meant for contemplation?”

He unsquinted, and disappeared behind the stack of books again.

He wondered if it was really so simple, as the flight landed at Santiago-Rosalía de Castro. Was it comforting, that you could undo the thing that had already emptied you out? Was it a surprise, that some ideas were designed to shape your thoughts around them, and might take all your earthly days to give up their secrets?

Tommy Valentine shifted nervously next to him. Matthew wondered if he knew that the man next to him had seen his death. Matthew wondered if that, too, was something they shared. Tommy and Patty and Matty, all in the emergency exit row.

He saw Emily biting back tears for him in some dim bar. Her eyes were wide and gentle, which made her look young, but not as young as she’d been when he last saw her. She’d been freshly back to DC, then. She’d offered him her guest room. It’s you or a home office, and I don’t work from home.

And who was that woman, standing over him?

Father Gamino had died with a mouthful of blood, and a sort of dumb, animal fascination with the symbolism of his own death. Did he feel like this?

Her vision had been vivid, lively—livelier than memories should have permitted. Her memory had never been as visual, never practically Technicolor. As if paying a toll, it was suddenly gone; not black, not anything she saw as color. There just wasn’t, suddenly, where once there was.

The air around her was quiet. It had the kind of stillness of an interrogation room, which was deliberate and unfriendly, and buzzed with fluorescent humming and the abstract non-sound of anxiety.

Okay.

It was like all her other senses had quit her like her sight, and now were slowly returning. The first thing was pain. It twanged along her limbs. With it came an unfamiliar sensation of stasis in weakness, and a murderously burning dry sensation in her throat. She’d felt fucked up, when she’d woken up in her apartment with a sensation of lost time. This was different. This felt like something had gone very wrong indeed, and over quite a period of time.

Maybe it was nothing, but it felt like there had been a sound. Something moving, somewhere nearby. She opened her mouth, and the air made the back of her throat burn cold. It took a minute, before her body would comply. When it finally did, she’d bypassed the first, instinctive, craven cry, and also the more practical one, and arrived at: “Who’s there? I can’t see—”

Nothing. She tried again. “Is anyone there?”

It occurred to her that she was sitting cross-legged on a hard surface. She reached out, tentatively, and found a hard metal edge about a foot in front of her. As far as she could grope, the shape of a table emerged around her. She reached up above her, and found that movement impeded by a tightness in her arm and back.

Still nothing.

She tried to breathe in through her nose and was rewarded with a violently foul experience, the smell of bile and rot. It wasn’t like a dead body, not quite—there wasn’t any fleshliness to it, none of its sickly sweet, organic softness. The smell of rotting meat had an unctuous sharpness on the nose, when you got past the initial layers of rot. That was the most nauseous part. This was just tang, bitter and sour all the way down.

The possibility that she’d wandered into something far more serious than her own trashed apartment sprang to mind. It could just be that, given an hour or so, she’d see the world again, and this would all just be vomit and her overturned kitchen trash. She might not even clean up before she took herself to a hospital. Or it could be that the next time she’d show face at the BAU, it would be in the local PD’s crime scene photos.

What did you do, in these cases? Typically, a profile would guide her behavior. Why might someone abduct an apparently defenseless, insensate woman, and set her on a metal table, unrestrained and unseeing? But they might not know she couldn’t see. So it would have to be a room that was safe: it mattered very little that she saw it either because it had no identifying characteristics, or because she wouldn’t get out alive. Or her abductor thought she was blind…

But it was always important to remind them of your humanity. She wasn’t a 20-something co-ed; an unsub who’d choose her either needed her to be someone specific, or saw an opportunity and took it. Those were the ones who might be swayed. If not, the fact that the FBI would be looking for her was a formidable stick to whatever carrot she might represent.

“Can anyone— can anyone hear me? Is there someone there?” What if the sound she heard was his breath? “If you can hear me, my name is Emily …”

Still nothing.

What was she supposed to do? Wait? Die? Spill everything she could, until her audience took mercy on her? Spill it all, until the universe took mercy on her and let her see that there was no audience, only some peculiar fluctuation of her ego?

What if she wasn’t hearing right?

“My name is Emily Prentiss. Can anyone hear me? I can’t see.”

What if she wasn’t hearing right?

#fic #q*fic #i think i'm done with posting bits of this this was just the last part that was fun

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j-ensenackles · 10 months

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who do i write for?

criminal minds

aaron hotchner, emily prentiss, and spencer reid

narcos

javier peña, steve murphy

supernatural

castiel, dean winchester, and sam winchester

the last of us (tv show)

ellie williams, joel miller

wwe

cody rhodes, damien priest, drew mcintyre, jey uso, jimmy uso, la knight, randy orton, rhea ripley, roman reigns, and seth rollins

don't see your fave on here? send me an ask and i'll see if i can/do write for them!

#j-ensenackles

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 years

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F, I, & M! 💜

heyyy I answered f & i here

As for M, omg so many but like zero words to write them lol.

Priest AU!Spencer x Reader

Virgin!Reader x Spencer Part 2 to a fic I wrote months ago now

Spencer x Reader adopt a cat and fight over what to name him

Spencer x Reader fake dating at friends wedding but hookup in bathroom

Folklore inspired series (waiting to finish a bunch to post every other day or so)

Law School Hotch x Readers (rivals to fling to strangers to lovers)

A Getaway Car Inspried Fic

Emily Prentiss x Reader Tis the Damn Season inspired fic

#asks #ooh someone tell me which on to work on first lol

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eveningalones · 3 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧t

word count : 2,670

warning : none that weren't listed previously or in the tags on ao3

To enter the garden and get closer to Eve, you knew you’d have to follow the word of god. You had to follow through with all the trials forced upon you by the heavenly father.

To think that way made you feel like you’d given in to the game your mother was playing, but it was what you had to do. You’d pushed the limits with Mother Prentiss which meant that you had to play by her and the church's rules to even get a second chance to be close to her. She had avoided you at all cost for a week which is what brought you to mopping the main church after spending what felt like years cleaning and repolishing the old wooden pews.

The tension between Emily and you was tangible. It was thick and if it weren’t for the church doors being opened, you would have had a nice sheen layer of sweat on you by now. You glanced up to see Emily staring at you from the church entrance, her glare lingering for a moment before clearing her throat and looking away.

“Good evening, Mother.” You spoke softly, holding the polishing rag at your side, your other hand picking at the fraying on your jeans. It felt inappropriate to have your ripped jeans on at the church when trying to get on all the clergy’s good side, but it was the only pair you weren’t afraid to ruin. Emily returned her eyes onto you, uncomfortably shifting her step, and giving you a soft smile. It was a gut-wrenching moment, where you knew that she felt a specific pity for you.

“Good evening,” She spoke quietly, stepping through the door, down the center aisle to look at the work you did. Her clothed arm bushing yours as she walks. You could feel the heat of embarrassment and anxiety creeping from your chest to your face. “I see Father Ben has been keeping you busy.” She laughed to herself, or mostly at Father Ben for putting you to work the way he has. She has seen you running around the grounds. Every little task he’s had you done was something that he was far too lazy to do years ago. You pivoted your body to see Emily looking up to the cross that hangs above the altar. Hesitantly, you put your supplies down and slowly made your way to stand beside her. You tried your hardest to maintain a safe distance, not to set her off or pull away from you, and continuing to pull the strands from your jeans. The tension picked up again causing a chill to run through you again.

You watched Emily attentively. Every small change in her facial expression as she looked upon the altar. All the candles were blown. The old cross was clearly repainted. Something that only made you laugh for mostly petty reasons. You wanted to criticize them for changing something so holy. Something sacred to God and whatnot.

“Y’know, I didn’t think I’d end up here.” Emily spoke. It was so quiet, you weren’t even sure that she said it. You cleared your throat, praying, ha! just hoping that you could speak without messing up. Any other night but tonight, you would have tried to be a smart ass about it, but tonight things were hitting you pretty roughly.

“Where did you want to be? Or I guess what did you want to be?” You weren’t sure if those were the right questions. If maybe she meant she didn’t think she would end up in this chapel or as a priestess. It was unclear. open-ended. You were convinced that you had messed it up because of the silence built between you, but then she laughed. A laugh that came from somewhere deep within. So special and beautiful. Your cheeks were warming just hearing her continuing laughter. You joined her, not sure what was so funny, but the sound filled your ears and seemed to flow through you.

Somehow you had ended up on the floor, backs to the altar, and laughter dying down, just trying to catch your breaths.

“I definitely didn’t think I was going to end up a priest or priestess. It was never truly settled, but I meant in this chapel. I was going to just walk by but,” She sighed, looking over at you. She was really looking at you and this time, not with pity. She was admiring you and you were admiring her. “I uh-saw you. I’d been avoiding you.” You nodded.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She scoffed. Your brows furrowed, staring at her wondering. It felt like Emily wasn’t the same woman you met in the kitchen a week ago.

“Oh please! You’ve no reason to apologize. There’s just never been another gay woman here. Or at least never an out one.” You tried so hard not to react so much in expression, but you knew you failed when she smiled. Smiled like she could read your mind. Like she could see the excitement lighting your brain up. “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just wanted to think. Can’t seem to think when you’re around.” Her words trailed off. There was more she wanted to say, more she wanted to confess.

“No, I’m just sorry about what happened in the kitchen,” You couldn’t look at her. Too afraid she could see all your thoughts forming into one impure mass. Pure filth and sin. Skin on skin. “I was forward and lashing out. I want to be a friend to you. It’s hard being one of three women here.” There was truth in your statement. You wanted a chance to be close to her even if it wasn’t in the way you’d initially planned. Mother Prentiss shook her head, chuckling. You then continued to just stare forward, hoping no one would walk by the open doors and see it as an invitation to enter.

“My friend,” She chuckled again. Letting out a puff of air while adjusting her position on the floor. She turned her body to face you, crossing her legs over, just watching you. “If that is all you want to be, that’s fine, but I want to be more than a friend to you. I would never want to make you do something you didn’t want to. You having to be here is enough.” You slowly turned to face her. For the first time in what felt like hours even though it was certainly less than ten minutes.

“You never answered my question, y’know?” You swallowed hard. Not in the right headspace to get all this information. To learn that she was seeing you the way you saw her. Or at least you wished that she did. Wish that when she was near you, she felt that same fire and received that rush of adrenaline. Emily hummed, watching you pick at your jeans. You weren’t over your nerves yet. It was strange how a week of not truly being able to see her had left you with this feeling. This anxiety to be close to her.

“I wanted to join the FBI. I was on the path for it too, but when you’re a teenager things get rough and life takes surprising turns and here I am.” She lifted her hands to further her point, dropping them back down again. Rubbing her palms on her thighs. An action that was so hard for you to ignore. You shot her a soft smile and bright eyes.

“The FBI? That’s a really big thing to just drop and turn to god. Do you ever think about going back to school and trying it again?” Emily nodded, growing mildly irritated with how quickly your hands were moving to pick the frayed denim on your jeans. She watched you intently as you tried to stop yourself, but it grew difficult as she continued to watch you.

“Of course, I do this for a friend. I’m scared to let him go or at least the idea of him that I’ve been carrying for so long. If I tried to leave when I wanted to, I’d never have come across you.” Emily spoke, smiling widely. Those words shocked you more than the previous ones. “Not to sound like a romance novel and whatnot. I was thinking about stepping down a week before you showed up. I want to pursue something that I love. Forgive me Christ, but your words don’t call to me anymore.” She finished her sentence staring at the ceiling. Not speaking to you anymore.

She sat like that for a few minutes, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, entrancing you. You could feel the sinful thoughts grow as you watched her. You slowly let your eyes draw over her features. The way she had her back pressed against the altar wall, the stretch of her neck while she looked up, and how easy it would be to start peppering soft kisses up her neck. A shy smirk appeared on your face, trying to be delicate with your next moves. Too afraid to scare her again. Everything she’s said this entire time you’ve been on the floor wasn’t clear. More than friends. I’d never come across you.

Slowly you moved in front of her crossed legs, calmly inching closer to her neck. Emily took slow and labored breaths but didn’t move an inch. She simply allowed your lips to ghost over her neck. Your palms pressed into the ground beside her thighs. You were fighting every instinct you had. Every desire to move faster. Mostly used to fast hookups to avoid being caught by your mother. Every move you made had to be calculated to maintain the pace you had set with Emily tonight.

“I-I’ve never been with a woman before.” Emily spoke barely above a whisper. You halted your movement as she put her head down to look at you. You searched her face for any sign of unease or discomfort. Emily maintained the calm that she has held over you since she walked into the church. Your chest swelled with pride about her confession. Knowing that everything you and her do will be something new and unexplored for her. You were in a house of God and you were going to corrupt one of his followers. A shiver ran through you, but you still have to maintain your cool. Don’t wanna scare her away too early.

You practically held your breath as you leaned in further to press your lips onto Emily’s. There was so much relief when she kissed back. Her lips were soft, something to get lost in as you brought your hand up to cup her cheek. Just as you hoped, the kiss began softly. The kind you had always seen in movies. There was this passion that caused it to speed up. To become needy grabs on shirts. You could feel the heat growing in your core and with a slight adjustment of your hips, you could feel the wet spot that had formed in your panties. You were wondering if Emily was feeling the same. You slowed the kiss to small pecks, just ghosting kisses along Emily’s jaw and neck. You pulled back to look at what you had done. Her cheeks were a blotchy red, lips pink and swollen, and her unsteady breathing proving to you how this was affecting her. You just wanted to show her more than that. More than what she could see.

“Emily—Mother Prentiss, do you—would you like to feel what you do to me?” Emily’s face showed confusion, pupils growing wider as she gave a curt nod. Looking almost ashamed, it made you not even want to try to push her further. That fear was calmed when Emily rested her hands on your hips squeezing ever so slightly. You slowly went to unbutton your jeans and pulling the zipper down, exposing a pair of red lace panties. Mother Prentiss’ breath hitched at the sight of them, her right hand lifting from its spot on your hips to ghost along the lace trim.

You took ahold of her hand, lifting it to go underneath the loose-fitting shirt you had chosen for the day, letting her take ahold of your breast in her hand. Just lightly running her finger over your nipple through your bralette, You watched her fascination with the movements you were making. Then you began moving it down your stomach to cup just outside of your panties. Struggling to hold in a moan not to give too much away all at once. Emily looked between your face to your hand on hers over and over again. Unable to decide was better to focus on. The way your mouth hung open as you moved her hand up and inter your panties, delicately pushing her fingers through your slit. Loudly gasping when they brushed past your throbbing clit.

“You feel that?” You could barely get out above a broken whisper. It felt so good and new. You felt like you were on fire. Emily nodded again, taking control of her hand as you let it go. She was testing the water, moving her middle finger to circle your clit. Smugly smiling to herself when your body tensed forward and a moan slipped through your lips. “You did that. You’ve done that ever since I saw you.”

Emily picked up her pace, moving her fingers closer and closer to your entrance. Exploring this opportunity presented to her. Relinquishing her vow to God.

“Can I, um, put a finger in?” Emily whispered. She was embarrassed to feel like she had to ask. You clenched around nothing at her question. Feeling a swell of pride in your chest. Proud of how far you were able to get with her. In the church. It was something so against everything she worked towards.

“Oh fuck, yeah you can.” Emily jumped on the opportunity, slowly pushing one finger into your entrance. Moving it in and out slowly, curling it every so often. She was so close to pulling your orgasm right out of you without even trying. You leaned in to kiss her. Open-mouthed and not one of your best, but your body was so overcome with pleasure it didn’t matter. You could feel yourself coming right up to the edge before the noise of people talking outside pulled the two of you apart. You quickly pulled your body from over Emily’s, trying to zip and button your pants before the group could pass the door. Emily had stood up so fast you were surprised she didn’t faint. You were trying to focus so hard on the fact that you were so close to finishing and now you’re panting on the church floor, while a group of clergymen walk by, not even glancing in your direction. Not even once.

You glanced over to Emily to see the same face you saw the night in the kitchen. Fear, guilt, and regret all at once. Her bewildered stare caught yours. Her hands anxiously fidgeting at her sides. You watched as the hand that was just sending waves of electricity through you clenching and unclenching.

“I have to go. I’m sorry,” You nodded at her. Understanding, but disappointed. “I will see you soon, I promise.” You stayed seated on the ground, watching Emily leave through the church doors. Once you knew she was gone, you let out a loud groan, laying your full body on the floor. Staring at the ceiling. It became clear that you were going to get what you wanted out of this stay one way or the other, frustrated that it’s always her leaving you this way.

Unbeknownst to you, as Emily rounded the corner, she took the finger that was buried in you into her mouth. Her eyes rolling back imaging what it would be like to have her mouth on you. Praying that there was some salvation after the thoughts she’s been having.

#emily prentissxreader #emily prentissxyou #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #priest!emily prentiss #criminal minds au #emily prentiss smut #smut #cm smut

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computernerdjohanssen · 3 years

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tag yourself as something insane emily prentiss has done, i’m “falling in love with an international terrorist”

#highlights also include #accusing a priest of homicide #and hunting serial killer while heavily concussed #thank you #I love her but she’s ridiculous #emily prentiss #criminal minds #ian doyle #the nerd speaks

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starlightstevie · 3 years

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fics rec / january 2021

And I’m back with another fic rec! There’s some absolute goodies in this month’s rec - I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! Happy reading x

(* is smut)

*tale as old as time (series) by @spacelabrathor Beast!Thor x reader: Thor is a beast, prowling the halls of an empty castle alone, living a life of cold, barren solitude. Villagers visit once yearly to bring him gifts he does not seek, piling valueless trinkets at his gate they feel will keep him appeased. They hate Thor and Thor knows, someday, that they will breach his gates and come for his head. He wonders to himself, often, if he will try to stop them when they do. This year, though, the offering has changed. Thor finds not trinkets at his front gate, but a girl, and then everything begins to change.

COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR COWBOY THOR by @inthorantine While not officially out yet, I am putting this here because everyone needs to read this! Kait has outdone herself and no, I will not stop talking about this for the next 500 years. Here’s some h/c to keep you going until it comes out! One | Two

*if I love you was a promise by @blueberrythor Thor x reader: Thor doesn’t consider himself a jealous man–there aren’t many who could compare to him, especially among mortals. He hasn’t had much reason to acquaint himself with the feeling. But watching you with Steve, even he isn’t immune to the sharp sting of jealousy.

*The Watching by @opheliadawnwalker3 Thor x reader (some Loki x reader): Reader has been dating Thor for about a year and is celebrating her first Yuletide on Asgard. But she’s unprepared for certain traditions that are expected of her. Or that these traditions also involve Thor and his companions.

*Desperate Measures by @lancsnerd Thor x reader: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Thor be?

*passionate & burning by @peachyteabuck Thor x reader: You’re busy with working from home, but Thor has other plans for the day.

*my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand by @spacelabrathor Frontier!Thor x reader: Thor makes a home and a life for his family out on the rugged frontier of the Old West. The winters are unforgiving but he keeps them safe and warm. At night, their cabin glows with firelight and the warmth of their company. A small slice of their life together.

*survive the summer and its sequel *hungry for me by @peachyteabuck (Dubcon) Thor x reader: A stranger approaches you on a warm summers day.

*the fluffer (series) by @punani Masterlist 70′s pornstar!Chris Evans x black!reader: It’s the 70′s and the erotic videos industry is experiencing another boom after the risen popularity in the previous decade. The studio’s are hot, Gemini Flanagan is a brand, and you’re a newly hired assistant at Shaggin’ Studios. Chris takes a liking to you, altering your job description so that you get to work more closely with him. Is this all just physical, or is there something more?

*old flannel by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: an innocent night of lounging in his old flannel leads to not to innocent touches.

*sunday football by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Chris sits you on his lap as he teaches you all about football.

*grocery run by @honeysucklesteve Chris x reader: Innocently wearing Chris’ shirt leads to you finding out just how much he can’t resist you.

*Captain by @chrissquares Nomad!Steve x reader: You call Steve a name that drives him wild.

*A Birthday Gift by @the-iceni-bitch Nomad!Steve x reader: The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

*let me come home to you (series) by @evansweaters Masterlist Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in amber’s end, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

*mountainside by @honeysucklesteve Nomad!Steve x reader: Steve needs something to give him a release and you do just that.

*steve needs to relax, good thing you’re here by @honeysucklesteve

*Such a Shame by @angrythingstarlight Steve x reader: You owe him for saving your life, the price is more than you were willing to pay, such a shame you have to force his hand.

*Captain Jealousy by @nony-bear Steve x reader: You and Steve have been keeping your relationship a secret to avoid public backlash for your age difference. However, after watching Steve flirt with a new agent at one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, your jealousy and frustration come to a head.

*A Christmas Compromise by @stargazingfangirl18 Ransom x reader: Even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, all you wanted for Christmas was Ransom.

*a man of god by @punani Priest!Ransom x reader: You’ve always been a good girl– attending mass regularly, never been touched by yourself or another, and the way that you dress? a naive innocence radiates off of you. even a man of god can’t help himself, not that he puts any effort into refraining from forbidden fruit.

*Naughty or Nice by @sweeterthanthis Ransom x reader: Getting caught nibbling on forbidden holiday treats.

*her cherry lips on his whiskey flavoured kiss by @cloudystevie Ransom x reader: The moment he met you, he knew.

Not My Style by @chrissquares Ransom x reader: With cold weather comes dry lips..

*In Good Hands by @ozarkthedog (Dark) Doctor!Andy Barber x reader: Your usual OBGYN Doctor got called away leaving Dr. Barber to administer your pap exam.

*Drowning by @savior-adriana Andy x reader: You love working as Jacob’s tutor in German. Not necessarily because you love the language or the teen’s attitude, but because it means you get to spend time alone with a certain Andy Barber once a week.

*Something Old, Something New by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: To this day you couldn’t work out why he’d chosen your mother. They were total opposites, a mismatched couple if ever you saw one. Yet, you watched it play out – thinking, hoping, that he’d never go through with it.

*Beg for Daddy by @sweeterthanthis Stepdad!Bucky x reader: The thought of your mother passed out next door, the other side of your bedroom wall, did nothing to quell the intense hunger you felt for him.

*it’s the right time to roll to me (series) by @blueberrythor Masterlist Bucky x married!reader: Stuck in an unhappy marriage, you find solace in Bucky.

*about last week by @xbuchananbarnes Bucky x reader: You’ve been avoiding Bucky.

*need by @cloudystevie Bucky x reader: You’re horni for Bonky’s metal hand

Season of the Witch by @msmarvelwrites Bucky x reader: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much.

*The Bet (series) by @no-droids Part One | Part Two Poe x reader: There are 3 rules to the bet between you and your x-wing commander: No sex, No touching yourself, No orgasms.

*the shakes by @whistlingwillows Poe x reader: “It’s the Shakes, darling. Makes everything excruciating.” Or, you’re experiencing the terrible side effects of being horny and Poe Dameron knows just how to fix it.

Mornings with Modern!Poe by @okay-hotshot Modern!Poe x reader: You and Poe try to have some alone time while you wait for your morning coffee and tea to brew, only to have your child interrupt you and run away yowling.

frigid by @whirlybirbs Mando x reader: Din doesn’t like the ocean. You’re soaked.

Getting vulnerable with Mando by @cptnbvcks

*men of the bau: kinks by @luciilferss

open road by @gayprentiss Emily Prentiss x JJ Jareau: After retiring from the BAU, JJ and Emily decide to forgo an apartment in favor of an old sprinter van.

*Teacher’s Pet by @imagining-in-the-margins Professor!Reid x reader: There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us. That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.

*Spencer taking you in the library by @spenciebabie

*of terrible coffee and late-night rides by @venusbarnes Hotch x reader: A collection of moments throughout your relationship with one Aaron Hotchner.

*fragrance by @whistlingwillows College!Hotch x reader: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

*bitter end (series) by @whistlingwillows Masterlist Hotch x reader: Author Sarah Dessen wrote, “Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.”

*Beard Kink by @reidsexualwriting Hotch x reader: Hotch with a beard has you feeling all types of ways.

*Lunch break by @arganfics Hotch x reader: You help Hotch relax after a tough day.

*Early Mornings by @mrvltwimagines Hotch x reader: The very rare mornings where you wake up and your boyfriend was still home and in bed were definitely cherished by you.

*Do you like that? Being in control? by @writefasttalkevenfaster Hotch x reader: You decide that Hotch needs a break from being in charge.

*Waking up Hotch with a blowjob by @writefasttalkevenfaster

Taking a day off with Hotch by @ssahoodrathotchner

*eat until your blood sings by @peachyteabuck Tony Stark x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers x Clint Barton x Thor Odinson x reader: Gangbang with the Avengers.

*Anakin Skywalker has a big dick by @anakinswhore

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