"Could I request an angsty, smutty Luke one shot? Like enemies to very angry, kinky sex?" @Teeeigan warnings: smut, DEGRADATION, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, scratching, praise, choking, DADDY kink, kind of public sex but not really, no use of protection
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"Thank God that case is over with," you huff, spinning around in your chair.
Prentiss scoffs. "Yeah, now we're left with paperwork."
You grin at her. "Paperwork's not that bad. I just—"
"Are you gonna talk all night or are you actually gonna get your work done?"
You turn your head, eyes landing on Luke. You scowl, rolling your eyes at him. "Whatever, Alvez. Keep your comments to yourself."
Luke returns your scowl and you turn back to your paperwork, typing at your computer furiously. Ever since Alvez joined the team, you two have butt heads. Maybe it's the fact that he replaced Morgan, or maybe it's the fact that every word that comes out of his stupid little mouth makes you want to punch him in the face. Either way, he hates you, and you hate him.
"Hey," Prentiss leans against your desk. "Are you gonna catch drinks with us? Garcia and JJ are coming."
"Is he going to be there?" You jut your head toward Luke's desk.
Prentiss grins. "Maybe."
You groan before looking back up at Prentiss. "Fine. But if I get drunk and punch him in the face, it's your fault."
Prentiss laughs as she walks away, and you're left alone in the bullpen with Luke. You check the time—11:21 PM. You glance over at him, watching his hands type quickly on his keyboard. You turn your attention back to your own, and you finish typing your last couple of sentences before sending Hotch the file.
You stand from your desk, grabbing your purse, not even glancing at Luke as you walk past his desk. You push open the glass doors of the BAU before walking over to the elevator, pressing the down button. You tap your foot against the tile floor as you hear the whirring of the elevator. The ding rings out around the empty hall and the doors open. You step inside, pressing the "1" button, before turning your attention to your phone, scrolling through your missed texts.
The sound of the door hitting something jolts you away from your phone, and you look down, noticing a foot jammed in the door. You flick your eyes up, internally groaning when you see who it is.
"Thanks for holding it like I asked," Luke grumbles, stepping inside.
"I wasn't listening," you grumble back, looking back down at your phone.
"Yeah, you tend to not listen a lot," he antagonizes.
You scoff, turning your head to look at him. "Dude, what the actual fuck is your problem?"
