Just One More NightAaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series
hello everyone! welcome to a new series im starting, this one was actually requested by @art-and-thoughts so shoutout to them. i’ll put their request below so you can read what it’s about, and i hope you all enjoy! :)
plot: Shortly after getting divorced, Hotch needs some sort of distraction from his work and personal life, he ends up meeting a younger girl and they start a casual relationship. He doesn’t want to know much about her than what’s necessary, so they just meet for ~sexy times~ and it works good for both of them for a while. The reader is graduating in communities and criminology; JJ finds out she’s going to have a baby, so she decides to call someone from outside to “coach” and replace her. That’s how the reader ends up at the BAU.
content warnings: smut, cursing, a bit commanding here and there, fingering, oral (male receiving)
Omg I’m so freaking happy right now!!! This just turned my terrible day into a super AWESOME one. Thank you so much @thewhitejournal you are amazing
Jeffrey Dean Morgan Kiss Scenes → 22/?
Extant (Season 2, Episode 11)
Negan: Don’t do drugs kids!
Y/N: Yes, exactly.
Negan: Not without me ;)
Imagine Negan Being Needy
Warning: fluff, fluff, and fluff!!!!
Stretching your body as you woke up in Negan’s king sized bed was always nice. Especially seeing Negan sleeping so peacefully. You smiled and went to sit up and get up. As your legs swung over to dangle over the edge of the bed, you felt an arm pulling you back to lay down. You giggled as Negan grumbled and pulled you to his body.
“We have to get up Negan.”
“No. I wanna stay here with you.”
You sighed and kissed his forehead as he went to snuggled into your chest. He lightly kissed your skin and held your midline tightly against him. Your gently ran your fingers through his messy hair and smiled at how peaceful he looked. He eventually fell asleep and you carefully moved to get up. As your gently tried to move his arms you yelped as he woke up and roughly pulled you back to him. You laughed as one of his legs wrapped tightly around yours to keep you from escaping him.
“You aren’t going anywhere woman.”
“Negan c’mon we gotta get up eventually.”
“Fuck no. You’re stuck here with me until I say so.”
You shook your head and gave into his need to have you with him all day.
JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN AS SAM
Desierto (2015) - dir. Jonás Cuarón
reader insert fic i’d be reading: my pale skin flushed pink at his stare
my tan, brown, latina self:
02 | strange surroundings
Something’s off. Instead of feeling a cold concrete floor beneath me, I sense the gentle touch of a silky fabric and a fluffy surface, which I’m not used to anymore. I think I might be dreaming, or maybe I’m finally dead. Considering it’s been far too long since I felt serene and at ease. But soon, I start to regain consciousness, and flashes of memories cloud my mind which jerks me off of my peaceful state, leaving me with images of grimy men surrounding me and placing their paws over my body. I also recall the presence of someone else. The figure of a tall, slender dark-haired man suddenly appears behind my eyelids pushing away the disgusting hands.
As I cautiously open my eyes the light forces its way into my head, making me blink repeatedly until I get used to its brightness. The slight movement of my body makes me groan in discomfort, so I take a deep breath to soothe my system. When I’m able to stay in a sitting position, I examine each detail of the unknown surrounding.
The room is very luxurious, having a modern decor with cold colours painting the walls; it’s extremely neat and tidy. A minty and leathery smell feels my nostrils, causing me a pleasant feeling of cleanliness. I’m resting on a master bed with grey sheets, too many comfy pillows for only one person and with two black nightstands on each side of the bed frame. A window on the wall in front of me displays a sunny sky, and it brings warmth to the place. I can see two wooden doors on my left and one on my right side. A chandelier hovers over the big black leather sofa and the small coffee table in the middle of the chamber. Furthermore, in the corner there’s a large shelf filled with books from top to bottom almost luring me to run my fingertips on the covers of each title. It’s an unfamiliar but still pleasant room, even if its extension makes me feel small. What the heck is this place? Ok, I’m definitely hallucinating.
A small agonizing pressure moves my attention to my right leg and as I attend to myself, I’m able to see my dirty torn clothes have been replaced by a large white t-shirt and blue boxers. I’m ready to start panicking over it, being afraid that someone touched my body while I was unconscious but I begin to hear the sound of footsteps, making my head snap in the direction of that lonely door on the wall which suddenly opens and reveals the presence of the bat-wielding man. His face seems to reveal a bit of surprise and relief, something that lasts only a second because a smirk takes place of his features.
“Well, good fucking morning sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” the man asks while promptly getting inside the room and closing the door behind him. He’s wearing a plain grey t-shirt with jeans pants hanging loose despite his belt and of course, his baseball bat is secured in his right hand.
I open and shut my mouth a few times afraid of how my own voice may sound, and cohesion flees from my reach. The man’s stare never leaves my face; it’s too intense, so I prefer looking at my own shaking hands and hide my body under the sheets.
His smirk only grows at my reaction, then he walks in my direction and sits on the edge of the bed. “No need to be shy around me, princess. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for two long ass days,” he informs me.
Too close. He’s too close.
He doesn’t make me feel threatened even if I should be. But I’m still nervous to be around someone new, especially a person with a powerful aura. Soon, my power of speech comes back to me, and I’m able to form a sentence. “Your name is Ne-Negan, right?” I question with a stutter. Good way to start, my thoughts mock me.
I look up to his face, and I see his expression is softer now.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he says with a smile that displays his pearly teeth. “And this beautiful little thing here is Lucille,” he states proudly while lifting the bat.
Why someone would name a weapon is beyond me but if that’s his thing I won’t judge. I want to ask so many things but anxiety overwhelms me, my jaw shuts firmly prohibiting words from leaving my mouth. Negan sees my struggle and tries to put his hand on mine but I involuntarily flinch away from his touch.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to scare you, Mia” the man says and hearing the way my name leaves his lips makes me shiver for some unknown reason.
“It’s ok,” I manage to speak between tight breaths and supporting my head down, “It’s been a while since I’ve interacted with another living person. I didn’t mean to flinch. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart. Everything is o-fucking-kay.”
He gets up from the bed, walking in the direction of the couch whilst still speaking. “I know your pretty little head must be flooding with questions about this fine place here. Well,” he declares chuckling with himself, “this is my fucking Sanctuary.”
Jeffrey posted this pic on Twitter today. Such a beautiful photo! I LOVE Gus’ hair and his fake tattoos.
I’m losing my shit with this news!
Darn it! I really need friends to talk about TWD 😩
1x22 the fisher king: part one
here’s some late night serotonin if anyone needs it
Summary: Negan and the reader/oc aren’t careful in keeping their relationship a secret from someone and a threat makes things complicated for their future.
Characters: Negan, Reader (OC), Simon, etc.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, tiny amounts of smut, someone talking about underage relationships (not Negan, but it could be triggering to some), etc.
The Masterlist has been updated:
One of my favorite writes! I’m so glad I’m able to read their work 🤧
“Keep going bitch!!” said to myself in different accents
01 | a bloody mess
A loud crash was responsible for my awakening, which made me jump on high alert and grab my gun - ready for whatever I might encounter. Maybe if I stay in silence and hidden enough, I don’t have to fight another battle, one that I’ll surely lose since my leg is still hurting.
Close your eyes. Breathe calmly, I think to myself. That’s when I start hearing voices coming from the main room, harsh male voices to be more specific. I have been avoiding groups of men, always going in different directions if I get close to one. It isn’t safe, you can get killed easily by them, but a quick death is way better than the other horrible things men without morals can do. So I stay crouched and with my gun in my hands. There’s nothing of value here, they are probably just passing through, I hope.
I can feel sweat forming on my forehead and under my arms. My heart starts racing without my consent, leaving me anxious even as I try to remain calm. Besides that, my hearing is on high alert so I can listen to footsteps getting closer and closer to the room I’ve transformed into my security place for the night. I can spot a shadow under the door at the same time the knob starts to turn. “This one is fucking locked, guys. Maybe there’s good shit inside” I hear one of them say.
Please just leave, please. I begin to pray.
The man on the other side doesn’t give up so he starts kicking the door. “Can’t you fuckers help me here?” the stranger speaks with a hoarse voice. I block my face with my arms in a delusional attempt to make myself invisible from the world while they keep pushing and pushing the door until the chair blocking it breaks, going straight to the opposite wall. “Well, look what we have here, boys,” one of them says and I can see over my arms that he’s smiling with his yellow teeth while looking at my small form in the corner of the room.
“What’s wrong, girly?” the man says walking towards my direction. Even with our small distance, I can smell his odor, it’s a mix of mold, dirt, and sweat. From his filthy clothes, I can tell he has been on the run for a long time. I probably look the same.
His buddies stay behind him but before he gets any closer I get up and point my gun to his ugly face. “Don’t move or I will shoot you” I say, praying that my voice sounds confident. I have to find a way out without trouble but how am I supposed to do that with a limp leg?
“Hey there, we want no trouble, missy,” the stranger says, raising his hands in a mocking surrender. Now that I’m able to see his face, I notice that he’s older than me, probably in his late 30’s. His hair is all over the place and I’m pretty sure he could fry an egg using the grease of it. The others, from my position I can count two, still waiting behind don’t look any different.
“Why don’t ya’ lower that gun over there so we can have a nice chat? I and my boys are just looking for a place to rest for a bit ya’ know” he continues. It would be stupid to trust this guy but he’s blocking my only way out so I decide to play along and wait for a chance to get out of here. I also can’t miss the fact that they all have guns attached to their belts. I need to be smart this time.
“Could you not block the door, please?” I ask while lowering my gun only a bit and waiting for the ugly face to get out of my way. I see that he starts to move away along with his friends as I slowly walk for the door. As soon as I’m out of the room, I feel a hand coming from my right side grabbing my wrist and twisting it until my gun falls on the floor. The ugly face takes my only protection while the other man, who was hidden from my sight just waiting to make this move, is now behind me with both his arms around my smaller frame, preventing me from any movement.
“Let me go, please” I plead and I can feel my eyes watering. “You can take my gun and the rest of my stuff but just let me go” I know I sound pathetic and weak, but that’s just what I am.
They all start laughing like they’re part of an audience from a sitcom and my struggle is their show. “It must be our lucky day, boys. It has been a long time with no women around, especially a cute one like this” the leader, I suppose, says as he approaches me and starts caressing my left cheek with his dirty fingers. I try to turn my face away from him but that only makes him grab my chin in a hurting manner. He is now much closer making me smell his disgusting breath that burns my eyes making me sick.
“Don’t be a bitch, girly. We just wanna have some fun. I know you’ll enjoy it” the man whispers to me. With that, I start wiggling in the hope to get free from the other stranger who is still holding me as I kick the one in front of me right in the groin. I know very well what ‘fun’ means to them so I’m going to fight against it as hard as I can. The ugly face gets angry with my scene so he punches me hard in the mouth. “You shouldn’t have done that, girly. But ya’ know what? I like even more when they fight” the sadistic bastard shouts to me. “Tie the bitch up” he orders to his crew of idiots.
My head feels dizzy and warm blood starts to run from my mouth leaving a metallic taste on my tongue. Tears are also running through my face, not letting me forget the pain from the punch I just received. With my open eyes, I see a younger guy, who had been only watching until now, coming to me with a rope. He ties my hands while his friend assures I won’t run.
It doesn’t matter how much I squirm to get myself free, I’m drained, hungry and in pain so every attempt to fight back is useless. The men easily throw me on the floor as I weigh as much as a paper sheet. They immediately start kicking my stomach and back while ordering me to be quiet. But I don’t stop screaming, I know what’s going to happen and if I’m not able to put my body in a stand position, I’m going to yell and loud as I can.
This is how things go for what feels like hours.
They beat me then I cry out. So they beat me harder and I instantly groan. I want to keep screaming but exhaustion and soreness win me over until I become nothingness.
I think I start hearing some laughs but it’s difficult to know for sure since my heart is pounding in my ears. Everything aches from my head to my feet. When I open my eyes, the surrounding is blurry and black spots take the place of the obnoxious men.
I try to get lost in my thoughts and memories from a time before the failure of the world. I focus on days with my family and I would enjoy the sun from our backyard. I think about our hammock and how my brother and I used to swing in it while eating ice cream. I just want to dissociate myself from my current situation. And that’s what I do.
My body feels their nasty grope. It senses when they lay me to my stomach and pull my pants down to my ankles. It’s aware of the repulsive lips leaving traces of filth over my neck and shoulders. It’s sensible to the hurtful tug they give my hair. My body feels how nauseous I am; how I’m shaking out of fear and panic. Physically I’m feeling too much but mentally I’m far away, hiding in a place of happiness.
I get so lost in my mind that I’m unable to notice the sound of engines and hushed footsteps approaching the old station. I get back to the moment as soon as I listen to an angry booming voice echoing through the building, “What in the motherfucking fuck is going on here?” it says.
After that phrase, things start to move too fast for me to understand exactly what’s going on. The ugly faces are pulled away from me and following this, I start crawling in an attempt to escape. With my ruined limps and bloody frame, I can’t get far but I’m capable of turning around to see what the heck is happening.
The four men who assaulted me are now kneeling after getting overpowered by another group. Now it’s their turn to plead for mercy, something they don’t get because three of them soon get bullet holes between their eyes. The only one still pathetically breathing is the same who punched me in the face at first. My attention is completely on him and how he’s weeping and begging to a tall dark-haired man with a baseball bat. A man the ugly seems to recognize and calls Negan.
The Negan guy says something about his rules, which I don’t understand the meaning of. Then he’s lifting the bat in his hands and brings it to the skull of the ugly faced with a mighty swing. He does it another time. And again until there are blood and brain everywhere. I don’t look away from the scene even after the little content from my stomach rises to my mouth.
Despite my brain telling me to get up and run, I stay completely paralyzed. That is until the new group starts to pay attention to my small form cornered against a wall. I don’t have much in me to cry or scream or fight. Whatever they want they can take and leave. Negan starts to walk slowly in my direction and I don’t dare look at his face. When he gets close enough, he crouches and whispers only for me to hear, “I’m sorry you had to see that shit. I’m Negan and I fucking promise you I won’t let any fucker hurt you again.”
But no matter how much his tone sounds sincere, I can’t bring myself to trust a man. So I keep quiet and with my head down. Negan orders his group to take a look around the area whereas he’s still near me. There are so many thoughts about what these new people can do to me running through my mind that I fail to comprehend most of it. I know they are dangerous. Heck, there are four bodies in front of me to prove that. But on the other hand, they stopped the horrific things the ugly faces were going to do. So now I’m torn between asking for shelter or just wanting for this Negan to leave me alone.
My throat is sore and dry so a cough scapes my mouth before I can stop it. The man still crouched in front of me reaches for his belt and soon offers me a bottle. I stare at it but I don’t move to take it. “I fucking swear it’s only water,” the man says.
Whatever, I think as I finally take the object. I’m already doomed anyway.
I gulp down the whole content not caring anymore and when I finished it I gave the bottle back to its owner. I still refuse to look at his face though. His presence is overwhelming but for some reason, I’m feeling safer with him around me.
Don’t be stupid.
He starts talking to me again, he introduces himself properly and says he has a “fucking awesome” place with comfortable beds. The idea of it sounds almost immoral but even the small possibility of being somewhere secure is heavenly. I think Negan can sense my hesitation going away and gently asks my name. “Mia” I answer him with a murmur.
“Mia,” the man repeats the word gracefully almost as if trying to taste it. “That’s a very fucking beautiful name” he concludes.
I get a little mesmerized by the sound of his voice and how tender he seems to be but I rather believe it’s because of the sudden dizziness striking me. The loss of blood and fatigue get to me and the last thing I remember is fainting in the arms of the baseball bat’s owner.
spencer : guys i think he’s our unsub. he didn’t pass the vibe check.
morgan : garcia i’m begging you to stop teaching him modern slang
spencer : looks like you don’t pass the vibe check either, morgan. not with that attitude anyway.
00 | wet & trembling
The rain is pouring from the sky, filling the forest with water drops while I run as my life depends on it. Well, it does.
I have been on my own for months now since I saw my whole family being torn apart while they were still breathing by a bunch of biters - that’s how I call them. The people that don’t breathe anymore, that can’t feel pain or love or anything else besides a hunger for flesh. How the world ended up like this I have no idea. One day I was living a normal life, having dinner with my parents and my little brother. In the next moment, we found ourselves running for our lives, trying to not get bitten and become one of the walking dead.
Right now, water continues to pour from the dark sky while I continue to run as my feet are getting sore and my body is soaking under the storm. I need to find shelter to hide from Mother Nature and the group of biters that are following me. I stop close to a big tree to catch my breath and ease my racing heart. I look around my surroundings since I can only hear echoes of the hungry dead and not actually see them. After a few seconds, I decide to keep moving but as soon as I start running again, I trip over a rock which sends me rolling on the ground and my body stops tumbling after I get a cut on my right leg.
Freaking great, I think to myself while laying on my back and feeling a sharp pain through my whole frame. I try to stand but my leg sends me straight to the ground again making me moan in agony, then I take a hard breath and try standing one more time. I have to bite my lower lip to not yell with the ache but when I get to my feet I can see an old building a few meters ahead of me. Lucky me. I start walking as fast as I can with my limping leg towards the new shelter, getting my gun from my belt - I’m not a good shooter, but it’s enough to get by.
When I get to the front of the building I can see it used to be a radio station of some sort. I tap on the dirty window and wait to see if a biter appears but after a minute or so nothing comes up. I go to the door and I try to open it but it’s locked. Since I am not a strong person I wouldn’t be able to take the door down so my only option is to break the window and jump it. It takes me some time because my leg hurts pretty bad and I can feel blood staining my pants. Once I am finally inside, I take my flashlight from my backpack and turn it on to see the inside of the building. It’s a mess and filled with dust. There’re papers and chairs thrown all over the place, as well as old radio equipment. I pace around trying to find the best spot to hide and rest for the night. I see a door at the back and to my luck, it is unlocked. It takes me to a small room that seems to be a cabinet - it will be a good place to settle. But first I take one of the chairs from the main room and place it in my new resting zone to block the door from the inside to stop any unwanted visitors. After that, I can sit against the wall, at first I close my eyes while breathing heavily feeling glad I survived another day.
Even if I’m freezing with my clothes all wet. I push this problem aside to focus on my cut leg since I need to stop the bleeding. I take my belt off to improvise a tourniquet and I hiss in pain as I tie it around my leg. I roll up my pants to look at the damage and I see a cut the size of my hand on my thigh. It looks deep and it might need some stitches but the best I can do for now is to put a wet cloth around it and hope to ease the bleeding. I am shivering, hungry, and in pain but on top of it all, I am tired so I drift off to a dreamless sleep while clinging to my backpack.
As a fanfic writer, the biggest tragedy is having the whole scene in your head like a movie, but struggling to do it justice on paper. Because how do you describe the tension of the room, how the lightning made someone look, or the feeling that exists in a moment when two people are in love. Translating the movie in your head into words on a screen is truly an art form
If you sent the BAU team a text asking if they want to fuck
y/n: hey do you wanna fuck?
hotch: I’m your unit chief. Did you mean to send this to someone else?
y/n: ….so is that a no?
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
rossi: you’re a good kid, but i’m more of a “marry ‘em then divorce ‘em” kinda guy.
y/n: that’s fair.
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
derek: just say when and where, mama, and i’ll be there.
y/n: wait. are you serious?
derek: are you?
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
spencer: now? we’re on a case.
y/n: so what you’re saying is after the case is over, we can fuck?
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
jj: i’m married???
y/n: will doesn’t have to know.
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
emily: when we finish the case.
y/n: okay, bet.
y/n: hey, do you wanna fuck?
penelope: you must have got the wrong number, my darling friend. but PLEASE tell me who you meant to send this to!
y/n: …it’s a joke…BUT i did send the same text to everyone else on the team.
penelope: what did they say?!