𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐬 . 𝐫

[ 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] (𝟔)

he trailed his index finger down in between your breasts, down your stomach and to the hem of your underwear. you inhaled sharply as he maneuvered his hand towards your lace covered heat. his fingers found a resting place against your clit. you kinked your wrists in your restraints held above your head, feeling him apply pressure in circular motions against your core. your breaths racked in your lungs. you leaned your head back and shut your eyes. you arched your back as you felt a single finger slip into your wet heat. a low rumble came from your chest as you pulled against the fabric binding your wrists together once more. your moan echoed through the air in the room.

you let out a quiet gasp as your eyes shot open, waking up to the ear piercing sound of your phone ringing next to your ear. you sat up on your elbows and grabbed it, scanning the screen. on the top of the screen read the contact name 'hotch' you frowned and picked up,

"hello?" you said, clearing your throat. hotch's voice came through the other side of the call stern and slightly cold,

"meet us at the runway in 45 minutes. your go-bag is ready i presume?" he asked. you slowly sat up out of bed, 

"mhm. yup. see you then." you sighed,

"see you then." hotch hung up after he spoke. 

you blinked a few times, attempting to rid the heaviness pulling at your eyelids. to no avail, you hurried to get dressed. you slid on a pair of slim fitting yet flexible black jeans. you put on a comfortable long sleeve shirt that covered your chest for the most part. your gold necklace and bracelet contrasted against the dull red fabric of your shirt. you rolled the sleeves up to your elbows before grabbing your belt that already had your gun holster on it. it was simple, looked like a normal black leather belt with a buckle on it. you put it on, walking to your bedside table to retrieve your glock 19 from a drawer. you grabbed it carefully, putting it in the black plastic holster hanging off your waist. as you reached in to grab your go-bag, you also took a pair of black suede ankle boots. you slid them on over your dark socks. rolling your shoulders as you stood up, you grabbed a hair tie and your phone. you didn't bother putting on makeup or doing your hair. you figured you could just put it up in a ponytail and it'd be fine. you popped a piece of mint gum before hurrying out of your dim house to your car. 

you made it to the runway just in time. boots clicking against the concrete, the team stood filed in to the jet. you once you reached the plane's small staircase, you took the few steps up to the cabin. glancing at the seats as you pushed your bag into a small storage unit, you noticed the only free one was across spencer. you sighed heavily and walked over to the seating. you took a seat in the tan leather chair opposite from him, looking at spencer as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. it was obvious he'd rushed to get up that morning. the bedhead, the messy tie and shirt, the way the dark circles under his eyes hung off of his face. he caught onto your glance,

"is there a problem?" he mocked you from yesterday, raising an eyebrow. your eyes met his and you shook your head,

"zoned out, sorry." you cleared your throat. you looked down at your phone before averting your eyes from the screen and back up at him. he wore a burgundy button up with a black tie and trousers. he wore the same black belt with a silver buckle he wore the day before. the wrinkles and inconsistencies in the lines of his shirt, as well as the belt, indicated a rushed attempt to get to the jet early. he wore black work shoes. the laces met messily in ties on the top of his foot. you glanced back up at his face, which was focused on his phone, before you looked back at yours. you crossed your legs as you felt the plane shift under you. with a small exhale of tiredness, you opened your text messages to the unknown contact.

y/n (unknown): shoot me.

spencer's phone buzzed quietly. you didn't notice, currently oblivious to any foreign sound. he smirked as he read the text.

s (unknown): me too. 

y/n (unknown): what's your story?

you set your phone down face down on the table, grabbing the black elastic tie from your wrist. you leaned your head forward, pointing your face down towards the table as you began to tie your blonde hair up into a ponytail. spencer's eyes lifted from his phone to you. you were practically shoving the bracelet in his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, blinking slowly in nervousness. texting the woman back, he shook the thought off as paranoia. 

s (unknown): boss called me at like, 4am, which is an hour before i normally wake up and gave me 45 minutes to get ready. 

you picked your phone up after you tied up your hair. you let out an amused breath through your nose as you read the text.

y/n (unknown): no wayy me too 

s (unknown): really? what do you do?

y/n (unknown): hey, that's a secret

spencer frowned as he shifted in the leather seat across from you. you heard the leather creak under him, causing you to look up,

"you alright?" you said quietly. he said, not meeting your eyes,

"yea. i'm fine." 

you nodded and glanced back down at your phone.

s (unknown): please?

y/n (unknown): not yet

you peeked up at spencer as he sighed again. 

s (unknown): ugh, fine. 

y/n (unknown): you were in my dream last night.

s (unknown): oh, really? what happened in that dream?

you bit the corner of your lip, just trapping the edge of your lip inbetween your teeth.

y/n (unknown): you had me tied up. it only got as far as you fucking me with your fingers, unfortunately. 

spencer looked around worriedly from his phone, as if he was doing something wrong. you caught onto the stare and furrowed your eyebrows, 

"reid, are you sure you're alright?" you whispered. spencer didn't look at you, but he nodded silently. you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

s (unknown): that's my dream.

y/n (unknown): ha-ha. very funny. 

you typed back sarcastically. spencer's cheeks flushed.

s (unknown): i'll be right back. restroom.

y/n (unknown): alright

you set your phone down after you'd sent the single worded text, rubbing your eyes with your hands. you lifted your head from the dark curtain of your palms as you heard spencer get up. he felt his eyes on you and answered your question you were too afraid to ask,

"restroom." he nodded. you slowly nodded back, your eyebrows knitting together in concern. you snatched your phone from the table. beginning to scroll up through you and the man's messages, you reached the picture you'd sent him of your chest. you inspected the picture again. as your eyes scanned up your arm, they froze on your bracelet. your hands felt clammy as you looked at your left wrist. the same bracelet you wore today lay there, wrapping against your skin. 

oh god.

was that why he was staring at the bracelet?

no, no, no, no. 

can't be.

you felt sick to your stomach. you did not send pictures like that to your co-worker.

especially not him.

there's no way. 

your eyes followed spencer carefully as he exited the jet's small bathroom, returning to his seat across from you.