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#or hotch dad moments
littlecarmine · 1 year
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AARON HOTCHNER RUNNING | 9.09 “STRANGE FRUIT”
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maschotch · 2 years
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I would love to hear your thoughts about Hotch and fire because I never really noticed it but when you point it out it does stand out as something he gets VERY affected by very quickly
its not the most obvious pattern, which is par for the course when it comes to anything relating to hotch’s past. but i think its sooo interesting that hotch seems to be on edge/more emotional when they deal with cases involving fire. in ashes and dust he seems particularly moved talking to the burn victim and insists on being the one to speak to her; in house on fire he averts his eyes from the burnt corpses and has a shorter temper; in devil’s night he’s antsy the whole case and makes brash decisions (like running into a burning building???)
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its subtle changes, so subtle that im not entirely convinced im not just hallucinating it all, but it seems like there’s something there. especially during the final confrontation with the unsubs in each of those episodes: the steel-faced hotch is gone, and he seems incapable of hiding his fear. in devil’s night he has a hard time looking away from the unsub’s lighter; in house on fire he keeps glancing down at the spilled gasoline. if it was anyone else i wouldnt pay any mind, but hotch is known for staring down death (like with foyet). he’s.. uncharacteristically emotional
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i feel like something must have happened. even gideon—who has better insight on hotch’s past than anyone—seems concerned when hotch volunteers to go to the burn ward or gets distracted looking at a child’s burnt shoe on the ground. the way hotch lingers on the picture of the mother with her son… something mustve happened in the past for him to take this so personally
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im not sure what it is. again, we dont really know anything about hotch’s background (and what we do know is frequently contradicted a couple seasons later—like the way his father died) so its not like we have a lot to work with. simply because of his interaction with charlotte cutler, i think it might have something to do with his mom? we dont know anything about her outside other than her attending mary baldwin. there are just so many unknown variables and oddly intimate moments of connection he has with various abused-sons throughout the seasons
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was he in a fire growing up? was his mother? maybe his mom was inside and he stood helpless on the outside, unable to save her? was it an arsonist? was it his father? or was it his mother herself—tired of her life and trying to tear it all down with her? was it all just a horrible accident? was it before or after his father’s death? was his mom dying the final push for hotch to stand up to his father?
there are just… so many questions. so many possibilities. but, whatever happened, hotch is definitely afraid of fire.
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luveline · 1 month
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i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((
pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)
Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 
“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 
Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 
“She won’t sit down.” 
Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 
“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 
“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 
“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 
Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 
The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 
Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 
“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 
“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 
“So?” Hotch prods gently. 
Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 
“The hates you one?” he offers. 
“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 
“Just hormones, Spence.” 
Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 
“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 
“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.
Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 
“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 
“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 
“Just the essentials.” 
Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 
“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 
Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 
“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 
“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 
“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 
“That works?” 
“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 
“I guess I worry too much.” 
“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 
They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 
Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 
He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 
“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 
“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 
He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 
You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 
“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 
Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 
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sundrop-writes · 1 month
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Careful - Chapter Three
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Three: Turn It Off
Before it gets any better - we're headed for a cliff.
Summary:
Spencer finally gets to see his son for the first time, and there is absolutely no denying - that is his son.
Caught up in a whirlwind of love for the boy and navigating the first small steps in co-parenting with you, he accidentally trips into a minefield from the past when discussing Sebastian's conception, and you both realize with baited breath that you might not be over each other.
(Especially not when that lust still burns so close to the surface.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst, Fluff, and Smut.
Word Count: 13,400
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing; mentions of the reader being the target of a serial killer; angst/emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; (technically) Spencer being unprofessional by staying on the reader’s case; Sebastian is described to be a combination of the reader and Spencer’s looks, so this does not describe or exclude the reader’s looks/race; the bulk of this chapter is fluff because Spencer is bonding with Sebastian for the first time; most of the warnings for this chapter are because of the smut scene (which is a flashback to Sebastian’s (unintentional) conception) - so warning for smut; (kind of) phone sex; mentions of the reader masturbating; (Spencer calls the reader and she’s touching herself and he realizes it, but there’s not any real dirty talk in this section); the reader calls Spencer ‘baby’; Spencer calls the reader ‘darling’; mention of Spencer feeling emotionally worn down from looking at casefiles; unprotected penis in vagina sex (though Spencer is unsure if the reader is taking oral birth control consistently or not); there is a lack of communication about alternative birth control methods aside from condoms (like plan B and oral birth control) - but both partners enthusiastically consent to having unprotected sex in that moment, knowing the potential risks; creampie kink (not quite breeding kink?); mentions of Spencer eating out the reader after cumming inside of her; there is a scene with a lot of sexual tension between Spencer and the reader in the main timeline. Other than that - Morgan teasing Spencer? (and then having a serious moment with him). And I think that’s it.
A/N: This is by far the longest chapter - I don't know the official length of the final chapter yet, but this might be the longest chapter in the series. It was a bitch to edit, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Especially because I know a lot of people have been anticipating Spencer meeting Sebastian for the first time, and this is the big moment. I'm not gonna lie, when I was writing the first bits of this fic, I rushed to write the moment where Spencer meets Sebastian - and it gave me chills to write it. So I really hope that you guys enjoy it, and you enjoy the sweet moments in this fic, as well as the more saucy ones lmao.
...
Spencer churned with nerves as he walked back up to the house, two gift bags clutched in his shaking hand. 
He had walked around the mall for a long time - partial aimless wandering, partial sweaty anxiety causing his feet to move along rapidly. He felt like everything he looked at was not the right gift to apologize to you with after so long. He felt like it needed to be perfect. 
After about an hour of wandering, Hotch called him and tore him a new one. Apparently JJ had pulled him aside and explained the delicate nature of his situation privately. Hotch knew how dangerous it was to get so personal and emotional when it came to things like this, and he wanted Spencer back at the police station and far away from you. He said that if you needed protective custody, then he would put Morgan or Prentiss in charge of it. 
Spencer didn’t care if it was unprofessional. He begged to stay on the case, to stay with you and watch over you. Apparently you were the only viable lead - with the flowers that had been sent to you, you were the only potential next victim. 
After a while of back and forth, Hotch folded. 
He sent an unmarked car to watch over your house, and told Spencer to hurry up and get back there. He needed to try and convince you to agree to around the clock protection. At the very least, if Spencer was in the house when the UnSub tried to break in, he could catch him in the act. 
The rest of the team tried to farm other leads. They went through the other victims’ lives to see if anybody connected to them had any connection to the firm that handled the preschool applications, if any of their neighbors remembered anybody suspicious lurking around their homes in the days before the murders. 
Spencer spent another hour rushing around the shopping center before he found the perfect gifts for you and your son - his son. (He really, really hoped that he was right about that.) 
He picked up a couple of gift bags - one with a brightly colored pattern of teddy bears eating birthday cake and the other with a more mature pattern of soft roses. He put the gifts inside and rushed to get back to the house before Hotch called him again. 
And now that he was standing on the porch, facing down your door again, he almost couldn’t work up the ability to knock. 
But he knew that he had to face the inevitable. 
He reached out and gave three firm knocks once again. 
This time, what he heard surprised him. 
A loud, squealing giggle, and a round of thunderous footsteps across the floor, slightly muffled by the door. Clearly - the sound of a young child. 
Spencer’s blood rushed through his body like a tidal wave and he found himself dizzy as he stared at the white panels of your front door, anticipation thumping through him. After a tedious moment that felt like four long years, the doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open. 
Peeking out of the crack - a big, curious eye, and half a chubby cheek poked out at him. 
Your son had answered the door by himself. 
Spencer swallowed down nerves as he prepared himself to meet Sebastian for the first time. 
Upon instinct, Spencer crouched down lowly on the balls of his feet, getting down onto the child’s level. 
“Hey, buddy.” He said, using a light voice, trying to be as non-intimidating as possible. “Where’s your Mommy?” 
Mommy. 
It felt so strange - using that word to refer to you. But yes, you were his mother. 
You were a mother. 
That fact truly hit Spencer like a truck in that moment. 
Unexpectedly, Sebastian then flung the door open fully. It seemed that he had fully assessed Spencer, and deemed him as someone friendly, rather than some kind of threat. 
A large knot formed in Spencer’s stomach then, as he saw his son for the first time. Because in that moment, there was no denying - this was his son. 
He saw his own big eyes staring back at him, reflecting the same epic curiosity that he had at that age. He had your complexion, most definitely your same skin tone. The boy had your sweet smile, your cute nose. Spencer ached as he realized that Sebastian was quite literally the perfect combination of the two of you. His own wild, untamable tendrils (hair that clearly hadn’t been cut for a while) with tones of your natural color in it - your sweetness, your laughter. 
Spencer used all of his self control in that moment to keep himself from fainting on the spot. 
“Who are you?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head slightly, inspecting Spencer with a distinct up-and-down glance. “Are you the police? Mommy’s talking on the phone. She said the police are coming to our house. But she didn’t like that. Her face made a big frown - like when that man at the grocery store asked if she’s ‘free’ on Friday. And I said: you can’t buy Mommy, she doesn’t have a price. You can’t buy people. You buy bananas. That’s why we came to the grocery store, pal!” 
Spencer frowned. 
This was a lot of information to receive in such a short span, and Spencer quickly tried to sort it all out in his mind. 
Technically, he was ‘the police’, but he didn’t want to introduce himself to Sebastian that way if it would bring a negative connotation. Clearly, this was a very observant child - he had picked up on the fact that you didn’t want police protective custody around. (Spencer just hoped that you hadn’t mentioned why you might need that kind of protection around the very clever ears of your son - someone who had interpreted a man asking you on a date as a barter for ownership of your person, apparently.) 
Not wanting to upset Sebastian, he chose to introduce himself in another way, rather than saying he was with law enforcement - which is what he would have done with any other small child. 
“I’m a friend of your Mommy’s.” He said. “My name is Spencer. Can you-” 
Before he could finish talking, your voice entered the conversation. 
“Sebastian! Seb!” You called out urgently, looking for him now that you had realized he was gone from your field of view. 
You came around the corner in a panic and found your son standing there with the front door wide open. Your eyes naturally flickered toward Spencer, and surprisingly, a look of relief flooded your face at seeing him. 
As much as you disliked Spencer for your own reasons - at least someone who wasn’t a predator was with your son. You hadn’t meant to leave the door unlocked. It was just easy to forget things when you were chasing after such an energetic kid. 
“Sebastian, Mommy told you not to open the door unless I’m here with you.” 
You scolded him, rushing to scoop him up in your arms - unconsciously protecting him from the outside world as you propped him up onto your hip, hugging an arm around his back to hold him there. 
Spencer’s insides fluttered at how natural you looked with him in your arms. It was a picture perfect sight: you with his son in your arms. It was something he had been dreaming of for years. And now, for so many reasons, it left a sour taste in his mouth. 
“Spencer is my friend!” Sebastian proudly proclaimed, motioning toward his very new ‘friend’. “You said it’s okay to answer the door for friends.” 
You clenched your jaw, clearly resisting the urge to make a foul comment about this in front of your son. You wanted to correct him and say that Spencer was not a ‘friend’ - that he was far from it. But you held that back, knowing that Sebastian was too young and innocent to be stung by your anger. (Especially anger from a fight that was older than he was.) 
Before you could speak further or insist that Spencer had to leave, Sebastian spoke up again. 
“What’s in that bag?” He asked, extending his little arm and pointing a pudgy little finger toward the gift bags that Spencer had in his hand - items that Spencer himself had nearly forgotten about, swept up in pure awe at meeting his son for the first time. 
“Oh, it’s a gift for you.” Spencer smiled at him, holding one of the bags up toward the boy. “Because I missed your birthday.” 
Sebastian took the bag excitedly, but didn’t get a chance to examine the items yet, still awkwardly trapped in his mother’s arms. 
You glared at Spencer over Sebastian’s head. You thought it was a cheap attempt at buying his affection. Spencer avoided your eye. (If you were a lesser woman, you would have banned Sebastian from having the gift. But you weren’t going to take away his joy based on your own rotting emotions.) 
“What do you say, bud?” You prompted, wanting him to thank Spencer for the gift - even if you thought it was ill-intended. 
“I’m four now!” He excitedly announced, believing this was what you meant. “I just turned four. I had a big boy birthday. So I go to the toilet all by myself - as long as I don’t wee on the floor. And I had a princess at my birthday party, but apparently she doesn’t bring the letters to Santa Claus, the mail does that. Did you know that the U.S. Postal Service was founded in 1775, and Benjamin Franklin was the first postmaster-” 
“Seb, that’s not what I meant.” You said quietly, gently cutting off his unrelated string of ranting. 
Spencer was grinning widely from ear to ear - he found himself so utterly charmed by Sebastian’s bright, enthusiastic personality. 
“Sebastian, you have to say ‘thank you’ to Spencer for the present.” You reminded him, getting his mind back on track. 
“Thank you!” He parroted back. 
“You’re very welcome.” Spencer replied, his cheeks hurting from how hard he was smiling. 
You then put him down, and he ran back into the house, excited to open his gift and see what was inside it. 
A tense silence fell over you and Spencer. You continued to glare at him with fury tightening in your jaw. Any joy he previously felt over seeing Sebastian for the first time was completely zapped from him. 
He now felt like a groveling idiot, desperate to get back into your good graces. He felt like the picture perfect life with a perfect family was right there, and he was missing out on it because he had messed up all those years ago. 
“That was a nice try. With the gift.” You huffed out. “I don’t even wanna know what’s in that one.” You said, motioning to the other bag. 
“Y/N-” He said your name, ripe with desperation, and you cut him off again. 
“When did you know?” You asked. 
The question utterly confused Spencer, and when you saw this flash through his features, you took pity on him for once, and decided to clarify. 
“When did you know that he was yours?” You said this lowly, edging on a whisper, not wanting your son to hear it - even though he likely wouldn’t understand what the words meant if he did. (But he was an observant, smart kid. You couldn’t risk him hearing either way.) 
“I did the math.” Spencer told you, matching your whisper. “I knew for certain when I saw him.” 
You let out a rugged sigh. With your tense body language, your tight jaw - Spencer feared that even now, you might ask him to leave. 
For him, that simply wasn’t an option. 
“Look, you can’t keep me from my son-” Spencer said, speaking normally now - he knew that eventually, the two of you would have to tell Sebastian that he was his father. 
He wanted a relationship with his child no matter what. 
“Keep your voice down!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if the small child was some boogeyman who would sneak up on you specifically to eavesdrop on the conversation. 
From the distant sounds of giggling and some playful voices - it sounded like he was far too busy playing with his toys to care about what was going on between you and Spencer. 
“This changes nothing.” You added on bitterly. “You still have no right to be around me after what happened, and-” 
“You’re seriously telling me that this changes nothing?” Spencer barked back, intensely offended by that assessment. 
You refused to look Spencer in the eye, and he barreled forward, believing that he could convince his way in the door with his stubbornness alone. 
“He is my son.” He spit back sharply, so much passion in the words that it gave you chills. “He is a part of me as much as he is a part of you. Even if - even if you hate me,” Spencer said, unsure if that was the right term, and feeling a rock in his stomach when you didn’t protest. “Even if you hate me now and always will, I still have a right to be in his life.” 
Guilt flashed across your features. You had always regretted not contacting Spencer in order to let him meet Sebastian. And now all of those late night ‘what ifs’ were coming back to haunt you. With a vengeance. 
“And I know you might not view it that way, but it’s been a long time. And I have changed.” He continued on, trying his best to convince you, knowing that these words were hollow. 
Spencer didn’t even think about the potential consequences of his next words before he spoke them, but he went on anyway. 
“And I would really, really like a second chance with you. I understand if you and I are over. If everything we had is completely… gone.” 
Your eyes flickered toward him at this, a dreadful ghost lingering in the back of your pupils. This was the last thing you had expected to hear from him, and you had a difficult time processing it. 
His tone was incredibly mournful when speaking these words. He still had so much love for you in his heart, and he could not imagine being around you and interacting with you to co-parent a child and not being with you. Not sharing your bed. Not having more children with you. 
“But you and I at least need to be civil, for his sake. Tell me that he really would be better off without both parents in his life.” 
Spencer resisted the urge to cite statistics about single parent households and the likelihood of forming antisocial personality disorders - mostly because he didn’t want to think of his son like that, and because you being a single parent household was the entire reason he was here. 
He didn’t want to bring up the UnSub again, and the potential danger you might be in - because he didn’t want you to brush him off or get even more angry. 
You looked intensely thoughtful, then, clearly mulling over his words in your mind. 
He thought that something else might sway your opinion in his favor. 
“Plus, if you don’t let me inside, that means I got you this gift for nothing.” He said, giving you his absolute best puppy eyes as he held up the bag in your direction. 
You rolled your eyes with a huff, but you took it from him anyway. 
“Don’t think you can bribe your way back into my good graces, Spencer.” You said, accepting the bag, and then: 
You stepped aside and let him in. 
Spencer didn’t waste a moment, gratefully accepting this. He took off his messenger bag and set it beside the door as you closed it behind him. You made a point of locking it this time, putting the deadbolt on so that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to get the door open by himself. 
“You used to be very easy to bribe back in the day, if I can remember.” Spencer told you, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. 
That grin, the light in his eyes. Him bringing up memories of ‘the old days’ - for a moment, it was all too much. It was too easy. It reminded you of simpler times - a time when you would have just leaned over and kissed him in order to shut him up. 
“Enjoying and accepting gifts is a lot different than being bribed.” You muttered under your breath, leaving the gift bag on the table beside the door as you walked back into the living room where Sebastian was playing. 
Spencer left it there for now - but he would have you open the gift before the day was over. That much he was determined of. 
“Mommy, look!” 
Sebastian ran toward you excitedly when he saw you walk back into the living room - he was waving something in his hand to show you. You quickly recognized it as a character from his favorite show - it was a rather large plush toy of Rubble from Paw Patrol. It still had a tag hanging off its ear, so it must have been what Spencer had brought him in that gift bag. 
Your stomach tightened. You knew that it was likely something to do with profiling - the fact that when he had been here before, he had only been in your home for fifteen minutes, but he had likely been able to observe so much about your life (and about your son) just from the simple things you had sitting around. You hated it. You hated that he had so many skills and tools at his disposal that meant you could hardly keep any secrets from him. 
“Oh wow, that’s so nice, baby.” You grinned widely, putting on your happiest voice for your son even though you didn’t like that Spencer had so easily bought his affection. 
“And look, look at this!” 
He nearly tripped over his own small feet, racing back over to the gift bag to fish out something else. He ran back over to you and handed it to you. It was a children’s picture book called ‘Dino ABC’ - it appeared to have a different dinosaur for each letter of the alphabet on each page. Educational and cute. Just what you would have expected from Spencer. 
You felt a deep pain emanate out from the center of your chest - your heart literally aching as you fought your hardest to keep a big smile for your son. 
“Seb, you still have to finish your snack.” 
You told him, tossing the book aside to put it on the couch and walking back over to the coffee table in order to draw his attention to the abandoned plate with his food on it. 
“Come on. You can play with your toys later.” 
You had been part way through his snacktime when JJ had called you, trying to convince you to come into the police station for a briefing about ‘protection’. Ultimately, that conversation had distracted you when Spencer had knocked on the door. 
He tucked Rubble under his arm and rushed to sit in your lap, shoveling cheese and crackers into his mouth off the frog shaped plate while you turned your attention toward Spencer - who had been watching the whole exchange while leaning against a wall, a tentative smile forming on his face. 
“I have to hand it to you, you’re good.” You said, trying to keep your tone neutral, straying away from anger. “You hit on two of his biggest interests - Paw Patrol and dinosaurs. That profiling stuff is a lot more accurate than I thought,” 
Spencer didn’t want to admit that he had just picked a book about dinosaurs because that was what he liked at that age, and the Paw Patrol thing had been all JJ’s doing. He had been far too busy caught up in anger at your initial stubbornness to try and ‘profile’ you. 
“Well-” Spencer attempted to reply, but he was cut off by Sebastian’s loud, enthusiastic voice. 
“What’s profiling?” He asked, nearly shouting, unintentionally spraying crumbs out of his mouth as he struggled to chew and speak at the same time. 
“Buddy, what did we say about talking with your mouth full?” You huffed quietly, grabbing a napkin to wipe up some of the crumbs he had sprayed out. 
You didn’t expect Spencer to indulge him with an honest answer. 
“Well, you see…” Spencer thought for a moment, wanting to explain the concept to him in an honest, but child-friendly manner. “Profiling is when I look at the things around you, and how you act, and I can tell what you’re thinking.” He replied. “Like… if you have a secret.” 
He moved toward the coffee table and once again crouched down to Sebastian’s level - and his cheeks curled into a smile at his son’s eager, curious eyes staring him down. 
You watched the interaction quietly. You never would have admitted it, but it gave you butterflies to see how natural, how perfect Spencer already was with Sebastian. 
Sebastian chewed a bit more before he spoke again. 
“I have a secret.” Sebastian whispered - a dramatic stage whisper that kids his age always did. 
“Hmm…” 
Spencer put his thumb and forefinger against his chin, and cocked an eyebrow, looking around the room like a cartoonish detective, acting like he was trying to piece together exactly what this big secret was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sebastian’s entire body go stiff, as if he could better hide while not moving - and one small, cracker-crumbed fist clenching tight under the coffee table as the boy tried his hardest to contain his laughter told him everything that he needed to know.  
“You’re trying to hide part of your snack from Mommy!” Spencer declared, laughter in his voice as he pointed an ‘accusing’ finger toward Sebastian. 
The boy burst into laughter and surrendered his hand, dumping a single crumbled up cracker onto his plate as he curled over with epic laughter - apparently finding the whole thing to be a very amusing game. 
“You got me!” He chuckled. 
You had difficulty hiding your own smile at all of this, and you tried to encourage Sebastian back into an upright position as he wiggled around from laughing so furiously. 
“Well maybe we need Spencer around when you try to hide your carrots at dinnertime.” You said, your tone flat, not at all reaching that same joy. “Now come on, you joker, finish up please.” 
You caught Spencer’s eye then - and he had the dangerous realization that you weren’t entirely kidding. 
“I’ll be around whenever you need me.” Spencer replied, seriousness seeping back into his tone. 
You wanted to argue this - but of course, you held back with Sebastian sitting in your lap. Instead, it dissolved into a sharp huff out of your nose. 
When it seemed that you had nothing more to say on the matter, Spencer turned back to Sebastian, who was licking the mushy, bright red remnants of some strawberries off his fingers. 
“What’s your favorite dinosaur, bud?” Spencer asked. 
He was eager to get to know his son better - and he was expecting a rather generic answer from a four year old, like T-Rex. 
He certainly did not expect what came next. 
“Plesiosaurus!” Sebastian cried out excitedly, accidentally spitting out some food (again), which you rushed to wipe off his shirt and face with a nearby napkin. “They lived in the Jurassic period, and could grow to eleven feet long!” 
Spencer beamed with pride. 
Even though Spencer hadn’t spent that much time around children, he knew that this seemed to be fairly advanced knowledge for a four year old. 
You gave Spencer a very distinct look over Sebastian’s head. You could see that glint in his eye, and you knew that you were both thinking the same thing. 
He had interented his father’s big, big brain. 
It was something you had known for a long time now. And you knew that it wouldn’t take Spencer long to see it. 
“Wow, buddy.” Spencer smiled widely, eager to praise the boy. “That’s so awesome. My favorite is the Brontosaurus.” 
Sebastian smiled, and nodded. 
“They’re herbivores. Which means they only eat plants.” He replied. “Not like Mommy. She eats steak. And it’s gross.” 
You couldn’t help but to let out a laugh at this, and Spencer easily joined you. 
Leave it to the random stream of thoughts of a four year old to actually make you forget about your anger towards Spencer - at least for a little while. 
“Mommy, can I have more strawberries?” Sebastian asked, holding up his now empty plate. 
Something a lot of people don’t realize about little kids - they eat a lot of fruit. 
“I’ll see if we have more.” You told him, moving to scoot him off your lap. 
“I’ll go-” Spencer moved to get up, and you gave him a sharp glare that cut off his words. 
Luckily, Sebastian didn’t see this as he jumped off your lap and rushed toward Spencer, picking up his dinosaur book with still sticky fingers along the way. 
“I got it.” You grumbled quietly, picking up the plate and moving toward the kitchen. 
You wanted to make a comment about how you had been taking care of him by yourself for the past four years, so a single plate of strawberries was not that big of a deal. But you didn’t want to be so passive aggressive in front of Sebastian, especially because he wouldn’t understand why. 
You cleaned and cut up the few strawberries that were left, and when you came back, Sebastian was sitting on Spencer’s lap. They had the book propped open in Spencer’s hands while Sebastian gawked at it and explained in detail about whatever they were looking at - likely far greater detail than the book already had written in its pages. 
“Ferrisaurus.” He said, nearly out of breath with excitement. “He has a very sharp beak. He was discovered in 1971 by Kenny F. Larson. He belongs to the Leptoceratopsidae family, and-” 
You put the plate down in front of them, and Sebastian frowned when he saw it, cutting off his own words. 
“Is there any more?” He complained loudly. “I wanna share some with my friend Spencer.” 
Spencer’s mouth flattened into a thin line, clearly trying his hardest to hide a beaming smile at being claimed as Sebastian’s ‘friend’ once again. 
“No, sweetie, that’s all the strawberries we have in the house.” You informed him. “I’ll go to the store and get some more tomorrow. But you can’t keep eating all the fruit and then complain when it’s all gone.” 
It was a common theme in your life - Sebastian could eat an entire carton of raspberries in one sitting, and then became upset when there was no more in the fridge. 
Sebastian shrugged and reached up over the book to grab one off his plate. He shoved it into his mouth before reaching for another, looking up over his shoulder to then clumsily aim for Spencer’s mouth. You were expecting Spencer to dodge it and tell him ‘no thank you’ - a man who was a germaphobe, someone who you had seen use disinfecting wipes on forks at restaurants because he didn’t trust other people to clean the utensils well enough. But instead, he leaned down and captured the half-mushed fruit from your son, giving a small grin as some of the juices smeared across his lips. 
Your stomach twisted into knots as you moved to sit on the couch. 
You didn’t want to call it affection. You would deeply deny that it was fondness rising in you at seeing Spencer clearly soft and loving toward your son. 
Toward his son. 
Especially because it was a sight that you thought you would never witness in your lifetime. 
“Thank you.” Spencer mumbled out as he chewed, and Sebastian chirped out a ‘you’re welcome!’ - even reaching to grab a napkin to help Spencer wipe his mouth before he then turned back to his book. 
“You know, if he wants more fruit, I can run to the store. It’s really no trouble.” Spencer offered, clearly eager to give your son whatever he wanted - whatever he needed. 
“He’s fine.” You sighed in return. “It’ll be fine until tomorrow. Do you have any idea how much fruit this kid eats in a day? How much fruit he’s eaten just today alone?” You remarked. 
Spencer saw it as the rhetorical question it was, and waited for you to continue on. 
“He ate an entire carton of raspberries before he left this morning. I had to change his shirt because he looked like a character from Texas Chainsaw.” You explained, feeling safe that Sebastian would not understand that reference. 
“It makes sense.” Spencer replied. “The natural fructose found in most fruits make it an incredibly appealing taste to the underdeveloped palette of a child. It’s actually believed that before puberty, people have a higher concentration of taste buds on the apex of the tongue, which is the area associated with sweet and salty sensations, so children are more likely to crave sweet flavors. And most fruit has a mild but naturally satisfying fructose level, essentially making it less assertive than artificial candy that pubescent children would enjoy with a more developed tongue. Basically - children like it so much because fruit is nature’s candy.” 
Spencer let out a breathy laugh as he finished this statement, and you knew that your eyes were glowing with delight as you stared at him. 
Sebastian was staring up at him - clearly absorbing every single word that he spoke with eagerness. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sebastian was able to repeat back those facts word for word later on. He was startlingly like his father. 
You almost hated it, but this reminded you so much of the Spencer you had fallen in love with. The man who excited you with his passion; the person who made your knees tremble because he was so chalked full of knowledge, but never pretentious about sharing it. 
“Is that so?” You grinned in return. 
Before Spencer could get too caught up at that affectionate sparkle in your eye, something barreled to the forefront of his mind. 
“Wait - what did you mean by ‘before he left this morning’?” Spencer asked. “Where does Sebastian go during the day?”
He needed to know more about your life. There could be something small lurking in some corner that could lead him to the UnSub before the man had a chance to even consider attacking you.  
“I go to see Abby!” Sebastian piped up, answering the question as he turned a page in his book. “And my friends: Paige, and Jimmy, and Emma.” 
“Abby is his babysitter.” You explained. Spencer nodded at this. “He goes there four days a week. From nine in the morning until three in the afternoon. They have three other kids, Paige, Jimmy, and Emma. So he has friends there. He likes the social interaction. And I get my work done while he’s gone.” 
“But you’re on a waitlist for a daycare in the area?” Spencer prodded. You grew confused at this, so he added on: “That’s how my team found you. Through the daycare applications.” 
It felt like a violation of your privacy, but you didn’t point that out. 
You felt like the conversation was straying into ‘grown-up’ territory. Things that you didn’t want to speak of in front of your son, because children are sponges and you don’t really know how much they absorb. So you decided that it was time for him to have some independent playtime while you and Spencer talked. He had finished his snack in the meantime, anyway. 
You picked up a napkin and wiped his hands, and then you gently took the book from Spencer, who had been holding it open for Sebastian to look at it. 
“Seb.” You spoke to him gently, leaning into his view. You brushed away one of his wild curls and he looked at you attentively - Spencer’s heart rate sped up uncontrollably, and he knew that he was looking at you much the same way. “Can you go play in your room for a while, buddy? I need to have some grown-up time with Spencer.” 
“I want Spencer to come with me!” Sebastian argued gently. “I wanna show him my toys!” 
“Yes, you can show him later.” You told him. “After we’re done talking, he’ll be right up, and you can show him all your dinosaurs, and-” 
“And the stars!” Sebastian added on excitedly. 
“Yes.” You nodded. “Whatever you want.” 
Sebastian then let out a bright ‘okay!’ and Spencer helped him up, and there were more thunderous racing footsteps as Sebtastian went upstairs to go and play in his room. 
“Grown-up time?” Spencer asked, quirking a brow at you. 
You hated that the tiny bit of innuendo in his voice drudged up heat between your thighs. 
You labeled it as desperation because you hadn’t been touched by another person in so long, not your genuine attraction toward him coming back again. 
“Yes.” You said firmly. “You and I need to talk. About a lot of stuff. And he doesn’t need to hear all the gory little details.” You sighed. “Coffee?” 
“That sounds great.” He nodded. 
He followed you to the kitchen loyally and leaned against the counter while you went about the mechanical, ingrained movements to make a pot of coffee. 
“So, why isn’t he in preschool?” Spencer asked. 
He neglected to bring up the fact that the UnSub had likely targeted you through the preschool applications. He knew that you would become annoyed again if he brought up the fact that you were in danger - so he left that alone for now. The longer he stayed in the house, the better chance he had of convincing you to leave, to come into police custody for your own protection. 
If the worst case scenario were to take place, his gun was in his bag. He would protect you if anyone tried to break in. He would protect you at all costs. 
“They wouldn’t accept Sebastian into daycare because… they thought he was too advanced for their program.” You explained, answering his question. “They wanted me to have him IQ tested. And I refused, so they put him on the waitlist.” 
You weren’t facing Spencer as you filled up the coffee machine with water, but he could hear it in your voice. Grit. Disdain. 
Did you dislike the fact that your son was so advanced? Did you harbor annoyance because he had likely inherited that incredible intelligence from Spencer? 
“Why didn’t you get him the IQ test?” Spencer probed, brimming with frustration. “Get him an assessment with a professional, at least?” 
Sure, you disliked Spencer for your own reasons, but it was no good reason to have your son held back in life. 
You shrugged. Obviously, you were holding back the truth. 
“My mom thought it was a good idea.” You remarked. “But…” 
You clicked the coffee pot into the coffee maker and turned it on, and then turned to face Spencer. 
“I remembered all the stuff you said.” You said gently. 
This confused Spencer, and he eagerly listened as you continued. 
“About feeling ‘socially isolated’, and how you were upset that you didn’t have a ‘real childhood’ because you didn’t get to go to school with people in your own age group.” You explained. 
Then it truly hit Spencer. 
You weren’t avoiding having him tested to hold him back in life - you thought it was for his betterment. 
Because you had truly retained something from your relationship with Spencer. From all those late night hours the two of you had spent talking, tangled up in the sheets together after- 
Spencer forced himself not to think about it. 
“I want him to have friends.” You continued on. “To have socialization. Even if he’s special - he can have education individually. Hell, having a tutor will probably be better for him if he’s so advanced, right? He probably needs individual attention.” 
Spencer nodded at this. 
“I wanted him to go to daycare - not because he needs to learn the ABCs and shit. He could recite the alphabet when he was eight months old.” 
Spencer felt a wave of shock at this, and then intense pride. 
“I wanted him to go there and make friends. So I guess him going to the babysitter and making friends turned out to be a better fit for him anyway.” 
Spencer couldn’t describe the depth of the pride he was feeling. Not just at knowing how truly intelligent his son was, but at knowing that your instincts as a mother were so well tuned. 
Not just because you knew what your son needed, but because you had listened to Spencer talking about regrets from his own childhood and you had tried to keep from making those same mistakes with his son. It was likely that you even saw how socially underdeveloped he was when you met him as a twenty one year old and that was a huge part of your reasoning. 
In the few minutes he had spent with Sebastian, he already saw that brilliant intellect colliding with the nurturing you had shown him. His ability to make friends easily, his eagerness to share, his natural curiosity. He was leagues ahead of where Spencer had been at that age - shy, apprehensive, constantly clammed up around new people. 
You had raised such a brilliant, beautiful boy. 
“It seems like the right choice.” Spencer assured you. “I can already tell that the socialization is doing him well. He - he’s such a great kid.” 
He couldn’t hold back his beaming smile this time, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, highly resisting the urge to reach out and touch you. He wanted so badly to pull you into a hug - to kiss you. 
But he had to remind himself that he had lost those privileges so long ago. 
He had to be thankful for the simple privilege of basking in your smile when you returned the action. 
“I - I am actually kind of glad that you’re here.” You admitted meekly, a moment of shy honesty shining through. 
Spencer resisted the urge to cheer loudly. 
“I’ve been trying to teach him, but I barely know where to start.” You added on, exasperated laughter escaping your lips at the thought. “I can barely keep up with stuff that’s on his level. I read to him a lot, but I have trouble picking books that are appropriate for him? Anything that’s on his level academically has too much violence or racism or complicated themes for his age. At least, when it comes to fiction books. And I can’t really comprehend the scientific stuff. He picks out dinosaur books when we go to the library and reads them on his own, and half the stuff… he just tells me all the stuff he’s learned when he reads on his own and it amazes me.” 
You chuckled, and Spencer easily returned it. 
His son was truly an egghead after his own heart. 
“I’ve been trying to teach him the periodic table, but I don’t even remember half of it myself. I haven’t needed it since high school chemistry.” You remarked with another dry laugh. 
Spencer smiled brightly at you. 
“You - you were right.” You hated to admit it. “He does need his dad. He needs you. He needs someone who can nurture that big brain of his.” 
The detail oriented part of Spencer’s brain was eager to jump into planning - he wanted to ask you about creating a schedule, the logistics of how and when he would see his son, especially considering that the two of you lived in different cities, in different states. (Truthfully, he wanted to ask if you were willing to move closer so that he would be able to see Sebastian as often as possible.) 
But he forced himself to set that aside for now, because something else was bothering him. 
You reached up to the cupboard and grabbed two mugs, and poured up the coffee, and Spencer watched carefully as you went to the fridge and grabbed some creamer for yourself before you handed him his mug. 
“The sugar is behind you.” You told him. “Spoons are in the drawer to your left.” 
Naturally, you remembered how he liked his coffee. Black with regular sugar. It was something fond, that left an ache deep in his soul. He set to the gentle task of getting some sugar while he conjured up the courage to ask the question. 
“Have you ever told him about me?” He asked. “I mean - have you told him about his father? Does he know who his dad is?” 
He knew that obviously you hadn’t told Sebastian outright that Spencer was his father - not with a photo and a name. But he wondered if you had ever told him stories about who his father was - a doctor, a man who fought against bad guys. Did you only have room for malice against Spencer in your heart, or would have told Sebastian some of the good things about his dad? Had you told him how you and Spencer had met? Had you told him that the two of you were once in love? 
He hated to think that you resented Spencer so much that you had lied. That you had made up some falsehood. Perhaps you had told Sebastian that his father was dead, or someone who never existed at all (because someone his age would believe that). Spencer’s insides flooded with anxiety at the thought that perhaps you had a boyfriend. Someone who was a fixture in Sebastian’s life already who the young boy called Dad. 
Before Spencer could flare with too much jealousy at a completely made-up figure, you answered his question. 
“I - ugh.” You stuttered out. “No.” You admitted hesitantly, capping the creamer and moving to put it back into the fridge. 
You moved to sit down at the kitchen table and Spencer followed you with his own mug in hand. He found it quietly adorable that there was a rubber dinosaur placemat and a booster seat on one of the chairs - clearly the place where Sebastian sat to eat his meals. He pulled out the chair opposite of yours and carefully waited for you to continue talking. 
“It was one of those things…” You stared down into your mug, a wave of embarrassment spiking in you. 
Seeing how put together Spencer was now - how mature. It filled you with regret, and made you feel quite embarrassed about not contacting him before. 
But the Spencer you had last seen was nothing like this. So previously, you had no intentions of seeking him out in order to introduce him to his son. But every time a major life event came up - toward the end of your pregnancy, the birth, filling out the birth certificate and leaving the section of his father’s name blank… The first time Sebastian sat upright on his own, his first words, seeing how truly intelligent he was, his first steps, potty training him. 
Through all of it - you ached with regret. There were more than a dozen times (sometimes more than a dozen times a day) when you considered reaching out to Spencer and telling him the news. But you thought that he might lash out at you in anger for not telling him when you found out that you were pregnant. (And then you thought he would be even angrier for not telling him sooner). 
You had considered that with his job, and with the other circumstances - he might be dead. That there might not even be someone on the other end if you did reach out. 
You didn’t want to go looking for a father for your son, only to have to mourn over someone you once loved. 
You didn’t want to open the door for more hurt to come your way. 
“It was one of those things, that… the older he got… I never considered that he might ask.” You explained. “I just thought I could get away without telling him who his father was. Without talking about you at all. Because I was so hurt over what happened between us.” 
Oddly enough, Spencer understood this. That night - things had been so messy. Spencer had always wanted a chance to apologize. He would have pushed harder - he would have chased after you better if he knew that there was a child hanging in the mix. 
“You had no intention of ever finding me again to introduce me to my son?” Spencer asked. 
He needed to hear you say it. 
You shook your head, entirely solemn, even more guilty. 
“It was selfish.” You admitted. “I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the pain of seeing you again. I didn’t consider how it might affect him.” 
“So… he has been asking about me?” Spencer probed. “He’s been asking about his father?” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s old enough to understand the concept now.” You said, sipping your coffee. “He sees stuff on TV. Cartoons where characters have a Mom and a Dad. And he reads science books about animals - so he knows that other ‘species’ need two parents to ‘reproduce’.” You were almost annoyed by the fact that your son was so smart and still so young. You couldn’t trick him with gentle lies anymore. “I don’t think I can convince him that I am the only asexual reproducing woman on the planet.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle at this. He knew how it was at that age - too smart for his own good. 
“What have you told him?” He wondered aloud. 
“I have been trying my hardest not to tell him anything.” You replied. “Whenever he asks about his own father, I just… dodge around it.” You told him honestly. “What do you think all the strawberries are for? I mean, I can’t lie to him, but I can distract him. He’s still at the age where his attention span is not that great if he gets excited about something.” 
“Would you be willing to have that conversation with him?” Spencer asked meekly. “The three of us? Would you - would you be okay with him knowing me as his dad?” 
He was terrified that you might reject him. That you still hated him enough after that horrible night that you wouldn’t want your son to see Spencer as his father, even if it was the truth. (A truth that you and Spencer knew intimately well.) 
“Spencer.” You choked out his name, looking at him with tears dancing in your eyes. 
You knew that you had been harsh upon first seeing him again, perhaps unrightfully lashing out due to your own vendetta. But you didn’t think that you had made such a nasty impression. 
“Of course. Spence, I-” You choked on your own words for a second, taking in a sharp breath in an attempt to regain your composure. 
Spencer tried not to get excited at you calling him ‘Spence’ again for the first time in so long. He couldn’t take the familiarity, the sweet nickname as meaning the same thing it used to. He couldn’t take it as a signal of affection. 
“Even if you and I can’t get back to where we were…” You continued on. 
(Which would be something you would gratefully regret now, those feelings for him locked up inside of you, banging on the door, just begging to get out.)
“My son is so lucky to have you as his father. And I am sorry that it was due to my own selfishness that he missed out on you in his life for so many years.” 
“It’s not all your fault.” Spencer replied. “You don’t have to apologize.” 
You nodded at this, and the two of you fell silent once again. 
Of course, both of you wished that you could go back to that night and do things differently. 
You wished that you would have told him about the pregnancy as soon as you took the test - so if he was going to scorn you, he could make an informed choice about doing so. 
Spencer wished that he could have chased you - that he could have been in his son’s life from day one. 
Which made him curious about something. 
“Can I ask you one more thing?” Spencer asked when it came to the forefront of his mind. 
“Sure,” You sighed. “I think we have a few more minutes before you have to go.” 
You chuckled, motioning toward the stairs - where Sebastian would surely be running down soon, waiting for Spencer to come and play with him, so Spencer could be shown all of his toys, introduced to each dinosaur by name and species. 
“When did you find out that you were pregnant?” He asked. “Was it - was it before? Or after?” 
He didn’t even have to fully spell it out in order for you to know exactly what he meant. 
Had you known that you were pregnant when the two of you had broken up? 
You could have easily lied to him. But just like every other moment on this day, stupidly - you felt like you owed him the truth. 
“After.” You told him. “It - it was about two weeks after. When I took one of those at home tests. And I had already made up my mind that I never wanted to see you again. So just - then and there, I decided that I was gonna raise the kid alone.” 
“You - you just unilaterally decided that you were going to raise my son alone?” Spencer snapped, some of that spite from early coming back like the coals from a fire being stoked. 
“Yes. I did.” You said firmly. 
You didn’t have to remind him of why. 
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes, and then plowed forward with another question. 
“So - so do you know when-?” He began, and you cut him off. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” You quickly replied. 
But it was a lie. You knew. 
You felt like you couldn’t easily tell him the truth about this. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do right now, with Spencer Reid sitting at your kitchen table, staring at you with his big, inquisitive, glossy eyes, licking his lips, with his firm jaw set tight in contemplation - you couldn’t afford to go reminiscing with him about the night your son had been conceived. 
You had spent a lot of time during your pregnancy thinking. Doing the math. Trying to remember. 
And you knew exactly when. 
The night was so vivid in your mind. 
It was one of the last good memories you had with Spencer. It was one of the most perfect pictures you had of who he truly was before he came home from Georgia such a different person, and you had no clue why he had changed. 
Spencer had come over to your place late one night. 
He had a key, but usually he was afraid to wake you up by using it. But that night he had been swamped with paperwork, writing up consultations on cases less urgent for police precincts that the BAU couldn’t get out to attend to in person. Images of mangled bodies stuck in his mind and by the time he finished up, it was well past dinner - well past a decent hour to be seeing you. But his insides felt hollow with a unique kind of grief as he imagined all the people who wouldn’t be getting home to their families - the people in the photos. 
He fingered over the key to your apartment on his keyring as he walked out the front doors of the office. He had taken the metro that day, and the last trains ran late into the night - until two or three am, to ensure that people drinking could get home safely. But he needed some fresh air, so he decided to walk. He took out his cellphone and decided to call you. 
If he let himself into your apartment unexpectedly so late - he didn’t want to scare you. 
“Spencer.” 
Your voice had a breathy, airy quality to it. He wouldn’t quite call it tiredness, not like he had woken you from sleep. 
“Y/N.” He called your name back softly. “Did I wake you?” He still wanted to ask, even though he wasn’t sure that was the case. 
“No.” You replied. “I - I missed you, baby.” 
The slightest quiver in your tone gave you away. That gentle, needy curl around the word baby - it practically brought him to his knees on the sidewalk. 
All at once, his mood changed. 
It was something beautiful that you often did for him. 
Every single bit of brick-like grief was pushed out of him in favor of that flowery, dreamy lust. 
“You missed me?” He parroted the words back, mischief seeping into his voice as he continued the walk toward your apartment on slightly weaker legs, the cool night air brushing up against his now heated cheeks. “You’ve been thinking about me a lot tonight, haven’t you, darling?” 
You let out a fluttering moan. You knew that you had been caught, so you felt no sense in holding back now. 
Spencer pulled his messenger bag to sit in front of his crotch, praying that he wouldn’t look indecent in public. It took so little effort from you to make his cock swell to attention - with his intense attraction toward you, and with you being so perfect, such a beacon of beauty and sex. 
“You caught me.” You huffed out. “Been thinkin’ about you all night, baby. The bed feels so empty without you.” 
You both knew that it was a subtle admission. The downright filthy way you said the word ‘empty’ - Spencer bit his lip to hold back a moan just hearing it. You knew that those clouded innuendos turned him on so much. The veil. The intention. 
You were touching yourself, and Spencer had called with perfect timing to ‘catch you’ in the middle of the act. 
If Spencer strained his ears enough, he could hear the wet slide of your fingers against your pussy on the other end of the line, and he knew that you could hear the increase in his breathing - the hard huff coming out of his nostrils because of it. 
“Where are you?” You whined, clearly needy. “Need you, Spence.” 
You hoped that he wasn’t too busy, caught up at work. 
“On my way to you now.” He told you, his voice leaking desperate breaths. 
He was already grinning widely at the thought of what would be waiting for him - how you would be leaking wetness, so warm and ready for him; how he would be able to simply slide his hard cock into you with no resistance and your gorgeous pussy would so eagerly swallow him up. He forced himself to focus. 
“Wait for me, okay?” He added on, trying to have some firmness in his tone - but he knew that it sounded too much like pleading and you would be kind to comply. 
Wait. 
You let out a strained, harsh sound at this. 
You knew that it was another subtle code. 
He didn’t want you to make yourself orgasm until he got there. (You had already had one before he called, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as one by Spencer’s hand, or his tongue.) 
He likely wanted you to stop touching yourself all together. He wanted to leave you on edge, to make you even more needy for him. Even if he would only take a few minutes to arrive, he wanted you hungry. 
You had the urge to argue with this, but you held back. 
You knew that it would be worth it. 
Spencer always made it worth it. 
“Okay.” You huffed back, an undertone of frustration in your voice that got Spencer even more excited. You needed him. And he planned on providing every single inch of what he knew you needed so badly. “I’ll wait.” You agreed. “But hurry? Please?” 
Please. 
The way you said it, asking so nicely - it nearly knocked the wind out of him. You would never truly have to ask him to touch you. Truthfully, he should have to ask for the privilege of providing you with pleasure. He would never say no to you. 
But there was something beautiful about hearing that from your lustful voice. 
“I’ll be there before you know it.” He promised you gently before hanging up the call. 
Spencer would have broken out into a full run if - one, it wouldn’t have made him look entirely idiotic, and two, it wouldn’t have stolen all his energy. Energy that he needed in order properly fuck you. He didn’t need to arrive at your apartment sweaty and panting and then collapse onto the floor in a heap and miss out on his chance to make sweet love to you. 
He got there as fast as his legs could carry him (at a reasonable pace), and he estimated that it took him less than four minutes - because your apartment really wasn’t that far from the office. Conveniently enough for him. He skipped the elevator ride and took the stairs two at a time in his eagerness (and long legs). And soon enough, he was putting the key into the lock, welcomed by gentle shadows, the smell he recognized as the air freshener you loved to use, and a single guiding light that must have been the tableside lamp in your bedroom. 
“Spence?” 
You called out from down the hall as he closed and locked the door behind him. 
“It’s me.” He assured you. 
He tossed his keys into a bowl that you kept on the counter, toeing off his shoes, ditching his bag off to the side, and shrugged off his jacket as he walked down the hall. 
“That was fast.” You remarked with a giggle, making him smile. 
“A lady should never have to wait.” He replied, coming to stand at your open bedroom door, already working open his tie. 
“Then you better hurry up.” You told him, your voice melting into a purr as you stared at him with honey warm lust in your eyes. 
You were completely naked, laying in the middle of the bed, propped up on a few comfortable pillows. The comforter was down by your ankles; perhaps you had crawled into bed with the intention to sleep (some of your sleep clothes strewn across the floor, as though you had stripped them off and tossed them aside) - but then found yourself feeling that deadly ache between your thighs and kicked away the covers to relief yourself. 
Spencer had called you with perfect timing. 
Perhaps your soul had sung out to him like a siren - luring him here to perform his duty to you, to act as the servant meant to bring you pleasure. He could think of no better duty meant for his existence than to serve you. Ideally, it was something he wanted to spend the rest of his days doing. He would buy you a house, give you kids if you wanted them, support you in whatever ways you needed. He felt like he lived to make your life better - to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you moan with pleasure. 
If he didn’t have that, then he was lost. 
In the low lighting, the star shaped necklace that he had given you for your birthday sparkled between your breasts, and Spencer found that you were most gorgeous wearing only that - a kiss of his claim on you, a perfect symbol of the beauty of your relationship among your goddess-like curves. 
He felt entirely overdressed and he rushed to play catch up; fingers fumbling over buttons, his movements becoming downright frantic as he stripped out of his clothes. He almost knocked his glasses off his face while ripping his shirt off his head, and he had to place them on your bedside table for safekeeping. And then he nearly tripped out of his pantlegs on his way to the bed, which had you giggling, and he flashed you a smile. 
But finally, he was freed, as naked as you were, and he crawled between your open, welcoming thighs. It felt like coming home. Your hands reached up to settle onto his ass - gently smoothing from the skin there, up his back, spreading warmth across his body as you groped him smoothly with soft, open hands. 
He planted one hand on the pillow beside your head and used the other to gently lift your chin toward his. He captured your lips in a smooth, knowing, passionate kiss - you didn’t hesitate to moan into his mouth, and Spencer echoed it right back. He had missed you so much during the day. Even though he had seen you less than forty-eight hours before this, he felt decades of yearning in his heart. 
He really should ask you to move in with him soon. 
Even if he had to be away for days on cases, he should get to come home to you. 
The two of you should start building a proper life together. 
But of course, any thoughts about the clippings of property listings that Spencer had hidden away in a desk drawer fled from his mind when you rubbed your knee across his thigh, sending shivers through him - reminding him exactly what he was here for. 
Typically, he would be the kind of man to go down on you, thoroughly, before he fucked you. He loved the feeling of your legs tightening around his head - he loved the taste of you on his tongue. 
But when he felt the bare head of his cock bump up against your entrance, smearing your wetness over him - his self control broke down. He had missed you so much. He realized that he needed you just as badly as you needed him. He moaned even harder against your mouth, and he pulled away from the kiss with a huff, moving his hand to your hip.
Then, he asked a very important question. 
“Do you have a condom?” 
It broached the front of his mind, then, that he hadn’t brought one with him. 
He knew that you typically kept a box of condoms in your bedside table. But the last time he had reached for one, the box had been empty. And he had resorted to using ‘the emergency condom’ that he kept in his bag. He didn’t have one in his bag now and he wasn’t sure if you had gotten a new box of condoms for the nightstand. 
While he contemplated all of this, he kissed along the side of your breast, and then gently tongued at your necklace, still loving how it looked against your bare skin. 
“You don’t need one.” You breathed out in reply. 
You combed your hand through his hair, raking your nails across his scalp in a way that made his hips unconsciously buck forward. It was something that made it far more difficult for him to concentrate. Especially when he felt more of that warm wetness smear across him, his cock just barely dipping into your heat. 
He didn’t entirely care to decipher the meaning behind your words. He simply trusted you. 
(Later, when he was looking back on it, he would have guessed that you meant you were taking your oral birth control consistently. Or that you meant to pick up a Plan B pill in the morning. But looking back on it now - it was the only time within those last months of your relationship that the two of you didn’t use a condom. You were urging him on, and maybe, at the time - a baby truly was what you had in mind.) 
“Please, Spencer.” You begged quietly. “I need you. Just you.” 
He wasn’t one to deny you anyway. And he certainly wasn’t going to deny himself of this. 
He reached down and used a hand around the base of his cock to help line himself up - and then he gently guided the length of his cock into you. 
This was always his favorite part. 
The gasp - the lilting moan you let out when his cock first slid into you, the way your thighs flexed around his hips - it was all so perfect. 
But it was even more perfect without the barrier of a condom in the way. Spencer always thought that it was a myth, men talking about how condoms actually reduced the feeling. It was such a thin piece of latex, how could it truly affect the overall sexual experience that much? Sex with you was so amazing, he couldn’t possibly imagine it getting any better. 
But this - this was so much better. 
He could feel your wetness sliding against every inch of his cock, he could feel your heat drowning him, he could feel every little clench you made - every little movement. He felt like he was truly drowning inside of you. Like he was being smothered inside of your perfect body. 
His head collapsed against your breast, and he sucked in a sharp breath, struggling through it all, as though he was trying to swim through thick, warm honey. His head was hazier than it had ever been - if someone asked him to recite a most basic fact at this moment, he wouldn’t be able to. 
“Spence,” 
You whined, arching your hips into him, forcing your pelvis into him just slightly more - he felt your pubic hairs grazing against the base of his cock, the sensitive head of his cock angling at a new place inside of you. He let out a pathetic moan, struggling not to cum too early. 
“Move, please.” Your voice was breathy, and desperate, and he had to remind himself of his purpose - bringing you pleasure. 
“Yes.” He sighed, trying to regain his composure. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize, just-” 
Whatever else you were going to say was promptly cut off when Spencer put both hands on your hips and bent his knees slightly, gaining the traction needed to properly fuck you. 
He didn’t initiate a brutal or rough pace, but he pistoned his hips well enough to take the air out of you. His movements rang a moan out of your lungs as pleasure hummed through your body, finally getting what you had been craving all night. You loved the feeling of his long cock finally plunging in and out of you, especially without the barrier of a condom. It was enough to create the delightfully filthy sound of skin smacking through the air, well timed with the chorus of moans that began to echo out from your lips. Something that was complemented by Spencer’s own grunting and whining - something he tried to partially hide by biting his lip. 
It was perfect. It was so easy, came so naturally between the two of you. It was a perfect rhythm between your bodies that came from knowing each other so well, feeling so at ease with each other. It was a perfect dance that made your entire body relax - the beautiful tingle of knowing that he was touching you. 
“Thank you.” You moaned, reaching around to plant your hands on Spencer’s ass again. “Fuck, thank you.” 
You bent your knees and spread your thighs more, angling your body perfectly for him to fuck into you even deeper. At the same time, you used your hold on him to pull him closer - to shove his cock even deeper into you. Something that both of you grunted harshly at. It wasn’t just out of the visceral need to have him inside of you; it was the pure yearning to feel close to him, to have him as physically close as possible. 
With your wetness gathering around the base of his cock and dripping down over his balls - with your hot, thrumming cunt squeezing over him, he was getting dangerously close. 
“Y/N.” He warbled out your name, almost as a warning. 
“It’s okay.” You breathed back. “Cum for me. Come on, please.” 
Spencer couldn’t resist - not when you said ‘please’. 
The sound that came from his chest could only be described as a cry, and you forcibly held him close by digging your nails into the flesh of his ass. Any fleeting thought he might have had about pulling out left his brain in a millisecond. Especially when he felt your tightness fluttering around him, his hips unconsciously fucking deep into you, his body loving the feeling of being held tightly there while your cunt milked him for all he was worth. 
He certainly didn’t miss the sweet moans you let out - the bright eyed awe you started up at him with as you felt his cum fill you up for the first time. 
Spencer collapsed on top of you - even as tired as he was, he was careful not to hurt you by putting too much of his body weight onto you. (Even though you professed that you liked feeling his weight on top of you because he didn’t weigh all that much). 
“Wow.” Spencer breathed into your neck - finding himself speechless after such a fantastic moment. 
“That - that was amazing.” You remarked, breathless. 
After a few moments, his cock began to go flaccid and slipped out of you, and he still felt your pussy practically beating with heat. He was reminded of something. 
“You haven’t had an orgasm.” He mumbled quietly. 
“It’s okay, I-” 
‘I made myself cum earlier.’ 
Your words were cut off as Spencer descended down between your thighs. He felt his cock twitch with interest at the sight of his thick, white cum leaking out of your used cunt, mixing with your clear wetness. 
So perfect. 
He didn’t hesitate before putting his hands on your thighs, holding your legs apart while he shoved his tongue deep inside of you - partially with the purpose of cleaning up his own mess and partially with the newfound curiosity to taste what the two of you were like together. 
You gripped onto his hair and moaned out, not a single complaint to be found on your lips. 
It was the most perfect night that either of you could have imagined. All topped off by falling asleep in each other’s arms after a hot shower together. 
Three days later, Spencer was called away on a case in Atlanta, Georgia that changed his life forever. 
‘Do you know when he was conceived?’ 
“No.” 
Spencer could see the lie reflected in your body language - how closed off you became, how quickly you rushed to cut off his words. Along with the intense heat reflected in your eyes. You were thinking about that night. 
He thought he knew exactly which night you were thinking about - if his memory served him well enough. Which it usually did. 
He couldn’t hold himself back from calling you on it. 
He locked his eyes on yours across the table, the memory of that night possessing him - the ghost of your warm skin pressing against his own only further driving the words from his lips. 
“Don’t lie to me.” He said, his voice a deadly, low rumble. “Look at me now, and tell me in all honesty that you don’t remember that night. Tell me that you don’t remember the way I felt inside of you. Tell me you don’t remember how good it was.” 
Maybe it was pure spite on Spencer’s end. Desperately wanting to know that after all the resentment, the arguing, the years he had lost with his son, with you, that you still felt something for him underneath the anger and the annoyance. 
Even if that underlying thing was lust. It was a strange victory, but he mentally cheered when he saw you clench your thighs together past the table - when your jaw tightened up. Your fingers twitched, and he knew you well enough to see the subtle signs of your lust from a mile away. 
Old habits die hard. 
Spurred on by this, and your steely silence, he kept going. 
“Tell me that you don’t remember how perfect we were together - how good it felt when it was just us, nothing but skin on skin for the first time.” 
You exhaled sharply. 
“Spencer, we are not doing this right now.” You declared, your voice quivering slightly in your throat. 
This didn’t deter him. 
It was your use of the words ‘right now’ - even if unconsciously, you thought that there might be a ‘later’. 
(In your mind, having sex with your ex, the father of your child, just to get off, sounded like the worst idea ever. But he looked so good and you knew that he was good in bed and if you had to be cooped up in the house with him for much longer, you would be making that stupid decision against your own will.) 
“Tell me you don’t remember how good it felt when I came inside you that night.” 
Spencer’s words were becoming more graphic now, looking to get more of a reaction out of you. 
It worked in an instant - you swallowed thickly, your whole body tingling with the imagery his voice carried. The underlying lustful rumble in his tone making your insides quake. Your leg twitched with that unconscious desire to have some friction between your thighs. It was working so well, and he hated how much he loved it. 
“I mean - what was your intention that night? Did you want me to fuck a baby into you? Is that why you were so desperate for me to fuck you raw? Is that why you kept pushing my cock deeper inside of you? Were you just that desperate to get knocked up?” 
His words were making you utterly dizzy with heat. If it wasn’t for the common sense blinking loudly at the front of your brain, you would have jumped across the table and tackled him just to hump him for some sort of friction on your aching cunt. 
Of course, he could read this plainly all over your face. 
“Spencer-” You breathed out. 
Just then, Spencer’s phone rang, cutting through the dangerously palpable tension in the air. 
He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and when he saw Morgan’s contact name on the screen, he thought for certain that the man was calling to discuss some development in the case. 
“I have to take this.” Spencer sighed. 
“That’s fine.” You nodded. You were glad to have some relief from the dangerous tension - you needed a few minutes to collect yourself. 
Spencer got up from the table and naturally moved toward the back door - a sliding glass door that he was disappointed to find unlocked. He would have to remind himself to have a talk with you about having better security protocols in your home, even during daylight hours. 
Spencer closed the door behind himself, creating a small barrier of privacy as he answered the call. 
“Hello.” 
“Hey, pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled. 
Spencer rolled his eyes, immediately knowing that this wasn’t a work call - this wasn’t anything serious in nature for Morgan to be greeting him that way. 
“What do you want?” Spencer replied, his patience already in short supply. 
“Oh, come on, man.” Morgan kept up that airy, light tone. “You think you can sneak around with your secret little family and not have it be the hottest gossip we’ve had in years? I wanna hear more about this kid of yours. Me and Prentiss got a bet, goin’ - so, was it an accident or not? Did you really know what you were doin’ when you stuck your little genius thang in her back then? Or no?” 
Reid was going to kill JJ. (Well, not really. He was likely just going to glare at her firmly and ignore her for a day - or, just until she apologized.) 
He knew that it had likely been an accident - the information about his private life getting leaked to the entire team. But, if JJ could keep important information about killings away from the media, why couldn’t she keep this out of the team’s hands? Why couldn’t she have made up some excuse about where Reid was? 
“No, no.” Spencer ground out harshly, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not telling you if my son’s conception was an accident or not just to satisfy some stupid bet.” 
“Ooh, a son.” Morgan seemed stuck on this piece of information. “Rossi, you owe me a drink. It is a boy.” 
Reid heard Rossi and Prentiss arguing in the background, and he let out another frustrated sigh. 
“Don’t you have work you should be doing?” Spencer asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Hotch has us spinning our wheels here.” Morgan replied. “Goin’ through more of these daycare forms while Garcia runs more background checks - but, so far, we’ve come up with squat. Your Baby Mama is the only real lead we’ve got so far.” 
Reid sighed. 
“So, was it a one night stand? An epic night of passion?” He chuckled, still using a teasing tone. 
Spencer didn’t answer. 
“At least tell me this - is she cute? What was it about this woman that got Doctor Reid to chase after his Darwin instincts for once?” Morgan pressed on. 
“She’s beautiful.” Spencer replied without even thinking, his eyes looking at you through the glass door. “She… she’s perfect in every conceivable way.” 
Sebastian had come back down stairs, clearly looking for Spencer. And now you had him in your lap, still sitting on your kitchen chair, playing with a couple of plastic dinosaurs that he had brought down from his bedroom on the tabletop. 
There was a distinct, humble beauty in the fact that you didn’t know you were currently under Spencer’s attention. You looked at Sebastian with such intense love in your eyes - a way you had once looked at Spencer, before that love had been replaced by scorn and disdain. Before he had messed it all up. 
“Woah.” Morgan wisped in reply. “That sounds like a whole lot more than just one night of baby makin’.” 
Maybe he was still fishing for information to ‘win’ the bet, maybe not. Spencer couldn’t quite tell from his tone alone. But he did sound a bit more serious, and that wedged Spencer open a bit more in order to feel comfortable continuing. 
“It was.” Spencer sighed. “She - she was the love of my life.” He added on, feeling safe to tell Morgan this. “But I messed it all up.” 
Morgan instantly dropped his joking and teasing when he heard the choked off tears in Spencer’s voice. 
“What happened?” He asked. 
“Long story.” Spencer sighed. “But - it ends with me being excluded from my son’s life. For a good reason.” 
“I don’t see any good reason why you shouldn’t be allowed to see your kid.” Morgan replied. “Reid, I’ve seen you with kids, man. If anybody deserves to be a father, it’s you.” 
“I was different back then. Around the time she got pregnant.” He explained. “It was just after Hankel.” 
There was a tense silence as Morgan sat with the truth - as he absorbed it. Clearly, he was unsure of what to say, and Spencer found himself naturally continuing on. 
“He’s so smart.” He added on, looking at the way Sebastian ran his fingers along the neck of the brontosaurus - maybe he had brought that one down for Spencer, remembering that he had said it was his favorite. “He’s such a good kid.” 
He almost choked on these words, more tears welling up that he forcefully pushed down. 
He turned away from the glass door then, just in case you looked up to see his tearful face. He wiped his eyes with a stiff hand, and he was surprised by what Morgan said next. 
“So be good to him.” He said. “Be there for him now. Step up and be the dad that we all know you can be.” 
Before he could reply, Morgan continued. 
“I don’t know if I believe in fate, but Penelope always says that everything happens for a reason.” He said. “And she would tell you to use this as an opportunity to be reunited with your girl, and become a real family. Even if it is because of some scumbag killing people that brought us here.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
“That is very Garcia.” 
“And you know she’s always right.”
...
Continue reading here: Chapter Four - Last Hope
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aperrywilliams · 9 months
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Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).
A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.
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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.
You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.
Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.
"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.
"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"
"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"
"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.
You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.
At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.
The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.
You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.
Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.
You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.
The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.
You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.
"Hey, baby!" You greeted.
"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.
"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.
"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.
"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.
"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'
A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.
"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.
"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"
"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."
Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.
You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.
Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.
"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.
You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.
But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.
Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.
Fuck. Your water just broke.
-
The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.
Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.
Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.
"Hello?"
But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.
"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"
Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.
"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"
Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.
"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"
"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.
Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.
To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?
"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.
“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"
JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.
"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.
Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.
Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.
"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.
"At my place," he told his boss.
"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."
Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?
Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.
"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.
"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.
"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.
"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.
Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.
"Can you tell us what's going on?"
Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.
"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.
To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.
Hotch was who took the lead.
"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.
-
"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.
"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.
"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.
"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.
"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.
"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"
Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.
"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.
Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.
"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.
"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.
Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.
"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.
"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.
"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.
They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.
"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.
"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.
"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.
"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.
"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.
"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.
You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.
"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.
"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.
You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.
Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.
"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.
"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.
"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.
Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.
"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.
"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.
"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.
-
The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.
“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.
It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.
“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.
“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.
You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.
When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.
“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.
“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.
The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.
When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.
“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.
You couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.
“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.
“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.
When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.
All eyes were on him.
“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.
The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.
Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.
“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.
“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.
“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.
“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.
“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.
“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.
“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.
“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.
Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.
He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.
-------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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ssahotchnerr · 9 months
Note
okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭
Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭
(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)
keeping score
🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k
early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.
as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.
but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.
"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.
you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."
he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.
however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"
your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."
"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."
his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.
you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.
but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.
"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."
it hadn't rained last night.
the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.
as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.
"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"
you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.
"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.
"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.
your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.
just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.
while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.
and a minute or two later, aaron joined.
as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.
"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"
you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."
"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."
with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.
"how are you feeling?"
"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.
"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"
oh.
"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."
aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.
so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.
"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.
aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."
aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.
and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.
"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."
"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.
"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."
you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.
once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.
"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.
aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."
"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."
a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"
"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."
he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"
"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."
aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."
"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."
"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."
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greg-montgomery · 2 months
Text
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader ♡ (boyfriend’s dad!hotch) - 18+ minors dni
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summary: part 2 to this.
your bf cheated on you? fuck his dad!
cw: uhmm a little bit of choking? age gap.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Put your phone away.”
Mark stared at his father for a moment without even lifting his head, and then continued to type on his phone.
“You’re being rude,” Aaron said.
“What’s your problem?”
“Your brother has been talking about this dinner all week. When Jack sits at the table, that thing better not be in your hands. Understood?”
“Understood,” Mark said, and placed the phone right next to his plate harsh enough to make Aaron wonder if the screen cracked.
Despite his annoyed appearance, Mark kept his promise and stayed engaged in the conversation with Jack. His little brother admired him and Aaron would do anything to protect his son’s feelings - even from someone who shared the same blood as him.
Still, Aaron had no complaints; Jack seemed happy and that was more than he could have asked for.
Sadly his feelings quickly changed, when after dinner he accidently overheard Mark talking on the phone. Aaron was a profiler, but any regular person could easily understand he was flirting with a girl. The only problem though, was that the name he had called said girl, was not yours.
--
Mark made his way outside the kitchen only to be stopped by his dad with a hand on his chest.
“Who were you talking to?”
“What the hell is wrong with you today?”
“Who were you talking to?” Aaron repeated, determined not to give him an easy way out.
Mark raised his eyebrow at him. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old to be asked questions like this by my dad?”
“Are you cheating on Y/N?”
“Why are you so fucking obsessed with her?” he snapped. “Why do you even care?”
“I didn’t raise a cheater.”
“No, you don’t give a fuck about me. It’s her you care about.” He smirked, and Aaron was worried his next words would be exactly what he was afraid of.
Mark confirmed his fears. “You think I don’t see the way you look at her? You wanna fuck my girlfriend and then be the one who teaches me about ethics?”
Aaron stood there frozen watching him walk away, too stunned to stop Mark from leaving without saying good night to his little brother.
--
Ethics.
His son was right. There was nothing ethical about the way he looked at you. There was nothing ethical about the way he wanted to steal you from Mark. And there was definitely nothing ethical about the way he had fucked his fist in the shower to the thought of you that same night you had asked for his help.
But Mark didn’t treat you right, he knew that. You deserved better and Aaron could be that for you.
He’d hold you in his arms, keep you safe from the rest of the world, let you know how beautiful and precious you were. Then he’d sit you in all fours and take you until you forgot your own name.
--
“This is so wrong,” you sighed, rolling your hips forward and the word ‘wrong’ went straight to his dick.
“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby,” he said staring at your lips and you leaned in to kiss his open mouth.
How did he get there? In any empty parking lot, and his son’s girlfriend riding his cock?
- -
It all started with a sweet “Mr. Hotchner?” when he picked up his phone in the middle of the night.
Then those two beautiful eyes he’d do anything for, looking at him like he was their hero.
“You said you’ll always be here. That’s why I called you,” you said when you were inside his car. Your cheeks were smudged with mascara and he wanted to murder the reason behind your tears. Only the reason was of course no other than his own son.
“You did well, sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek rubbing it with his thumb, and you nuzzled his hand. “You can trust me.”
“I do.”
It was impossible for him to keep his hands away or not to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.
“It’s over,” you sniffled. “This is the second time he cheats on me. I’ve had enough.”
“He never deserved you, honey. I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Don’t be. You’re nothing like him,” you whispered. “How are you two even related?”
Your hand found his and your fingers naturally intertwined.
The kisses on your forehead soon turned into kisses on your cheeks and then on the corners of your mouth. He couldn’t stop and the way you were trembling against him was an invitation to touch you more.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you pulled his hair softly. He shouldn’t be doing that, but he’d rather take his last breath at that moment than let you go.
“I know. But I need you so bad,” you whined.
“Take off your panties and come to my lap.”
Aaron watched the fabric move all the way down your legs and pulled you into his lap. Before he had the chance to lift up your dress, you started rubbing yourself against him. He took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him. “Aren’t you a desperate little thing?”
“I wanted you to fuck me from the day we met.”
“I know.”
The feeling of your wet pussy against his slacks and the sound of your little moans drove him crazy. He bit your right nipple through your dress and you finally called him ‘Aaron’.
“Say my name again.”
“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron,” you moaned, moving desperately against him.
“Baby, I need to be inside you,” he said.
Once he was buried in you, his hands went on your hips, guiding you, showing you the pace he needed you at.
You were so good; such a good learner.
“This is so wrong.”
“That’s why it feels so fucking good, baby.”
You leaned in to kiss him and Aaron took the opportunity to wrap his hand around your neck. He noticed you failing to bite back a loud moan.
“You like that, huh?”
“Mhm…”
“Want me to rub your little clit too? Will that make you cum faster, sweetie?”
“Fuck, yes.”
He did as promised, moving his free hand between your legs, touching you softly and slowly. He loved the tortured expression on your face.
“Faster, please,” you begged him.
“You’re so fucking desperate,” he moaned, and picked up his pace.
It didn’t take much longer for you to cum, and he followed right after you.
You didn’t leave his lap. Aaron wrapped his arms around you protectively and pulled you so close to him, it was hard to tell where his body ended and yours started.
“What now?” you whispered, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.
“Now you’re mine.”
tags : @hotchhner @sabage101 @yurfavmommy @mrs-ssa-hotch @justarandommom @m4gn3ziu @rosaliedepp @indigosamsblog
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hotchfiles · 1 month
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [HALF ASLEEP TAKIN' CHANCES] ❞
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pairing: hotch x sitter!reader. summary: there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.  content warnings: disgustingly cute fluff word count: 1,1k a/n: requested by baby boy @starch1ldz
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when aaron offered to financially help with jessica and haley’s father he didn’t think through about how much time would be a new issue, with him around jessica had no time to come and babysit jack like before, especially in a rush.
jack was older, sure, but that didn’t mean aaron was about to leave a 10-year-old alone while he was working–that’s why there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. 
trustworthy, smart enough to help his boy with homework and school projects, available to sleep in and possibly not an eye/hr was a tough find, but with garcia’s help… he found you. 
it’s about 3am when he finally gets home this time around, 11 days melting away in texas, communicating with you through texts and facetiming with jack every morning for at least a few minutes being his saving grace, his breath of fresh air when evil corners him in. 
aaron expects to find a dark, quiet living room when his keys hit the door, he expects to gulp down some scotch, check on jack from afar and then drop to his bed. 
instead, he is met with lights from the ceiling and from the tv that is blasting what appears to be a spider-man cartoon. out of habit he frowns, quietly closing and locking the door behind him and leaving his bag on the floor. his steps towards the tv are as silent as possible against the wood of the floor, not that it would matter with all the noise coming from it. 
glancing the room before turning it off he is surprised by what he thinks it’s the most beautiful image he has seen in the longest time. you and jack both asleep on the couch. jack is facing the tv, but one of his arms are hugging one of yours fiercely. your nose is up his hair, your other arm under the both of you and he doesn’t know how you haven’t felt it numb yet. aaron leans into the wall careful not to make any noise, desiring nothing more than to take in this moment just a little bit more. the beauty in it, the peace and quiet. 
he wishes he could take an actual picture without being a creep, but he will settle for a mental one for now. for some time all aaron could think about was his boy, his happiness, his safety, his comfort, and jack found it so easily in you that it was impossible for aaron to not feel the same. you were warm, welcoming… kind. 
the sudden lack of sound when he turns the tv off wakes you up and you luckily have the self control not to get up in a startle, looking up with a smile and half opened eyes, your voice as low as possible not to spook the not so little one beside you in case he also ended up waking up. 
“you’re home early.” you tease, sleepiness lacing your words, adoration clear in your eyes.
aaron only grins, crouching in front of his boy to admire his creation a bit more, safe and sound like that, he passes his hand through jack’s forehead and hair to wake him up which he does in a jump much more loudly than yourself, hugging his dad happily. 
“hey buddy, let’s get you to bed?” at ten jack isn’t as easy to carry as he once was, but aaron still does it, especially when he’s this sleepy, especially when he hasn’t seen him in days. he hugs him tightly and softly strokes his hair as he takes him to his bedroom. 
jack wants to tell him all about his day, about his week and the cartoon he was watching just before he fell asleep, but aaron is quick to remind him of the time, turning off his night lamp and kissing his forehead goodnight. he’s sure the boy is sound asleep once more before he even leaves the room. 
he’s finally able to get his tie off of him, leaving it on the table as he gets you and himself scotch, his jacket is already buried in his go bag, not once having been worn in san antonio’s heat. he hands you the glass, fingers brushing lightly before he settles himself leaning into the back of the couch. 
“was he difficult today?” his question almost breaks your heart, for as long as you know jack, he has never been difficult, especially considering everything he’s been through at such a young age. but you understand his query means well and is about the fact jack wasn’t in his bed at such late hours. 
“never difficult.” you answer it quickly, taking a sip of the scotch, it’s a bit too strong to you at most times, but you enjoy it before bed and the taste reminds you of hotch. “he’s just been a bit… skittish since the framing incident… some nightmares. it happens less when he falls asleep with me first before going to bed.” 
it almost feels like aaron could cry at any minute at your revelation, a very different sight to what you’re used to from him. he’s very much the strong alpha male, unbreakable, a survivor, the most you get from him is his dry humor and the occasional opening up about his past–which you already adore–but the way his eyes glisten right now is completely… new. 
you care, it’s in your job description, in your resume, in your heart. so you take two steps too close, your free hand going to his cheek as if its warmth could be enough to help him feel better. and it is, he leans into it, his eyes closed, his hand holding your wrist.
“he’s fine, really. doing great in school, excited for therapy days. don’t make that terrible guilty father face. you’re a great dad, my salary attests to that.” you’re almost ashamed at the feeling you get when you’re able to make him laugh, but you’re definitely ashamed at how you mourn the feeling of his hand when he drops your wrist and you feel obligated to drop your hand. you finish the rest of the scotch in a mouthful and he does the same. 
“thanks for being here so much, jack needs it. to be honest, i need it.” aaron’s not even sure what he’s really admitting to, he just knows life has been incredibly easier and stable since you began taking care of jack, and he feels silly for feeling the way he does, because he knows it’s your job, but he hopes his profiler abilities aren’t failing him when he looks into your eyes. 
“well, thanks for hiring me.” your answer is merely a joke, used to hide your red cheeks and the way one of your hands went straight to your necklace, playing with it nervously. 
aaron notices it, he smiles to himself but doesn’t do anything about it. for now it’s enough to come home and find you safe and sound sleeping embraced with his boy. if anything more comes of it, he’ll let future aaron make something of it. 
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dudeitiskarev · 5 days
Text
Your voice | Aaron Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn reader
Summary: Aaron doubts himself as a father and husband.
Tags/warnings: girl dad Hotch <3; lots of self doubt; reassuring reader; hurt/comfort
Word count: 2.6k
Author's note: another repost! this was a request I got back in the day, and it was very challenging because I have an unpopular opinion about dad Hotch. But I managed to put those feelings aside and wrote this! And honestly, I love it, so I hope you love it too.
MASTERLIST
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One of Aaron’s favorite things about you has always been the way you interacted with a toddler; how happy you would get, gently squeezing his arm with excitement before walking up to the kid. How your eyes would shine so bright and how even the joy radiated through your voice.
        “I want one of these,” You’d said one day in a silly tone, more to yourself — and to the baby you were holding — than to anyone else who was around you. 
        That brief and adorable moment stuck with Aaron, replaying your words in his mind the entire day, and he couldn’t help but ask you about it later that same night. 
        You were watching some random movie you’d picked to fall asleep to, resting your head against his chest and his warm fingers tracing random lines on your arm when he said, “Do you really want babies?” 
        His raspy voice came out almost in a whisper.
        “Some day.” You smiled and pulled yourself closer to him.
        Since the moment Aaron came into your life, having a little human who resembled you both running around your home has always been part of your life plan. And though you hadn’t had that serious talk yet, that’s what Aaron wanted someday too. Raise a kid and give them everything he ever lacked and show them all the love he had to offer. He was sure that love would only be multiplied by a million with you by his side, so it didn’t take him much time to realize you were the one and ask you to marry him.
        You were the last couple of your friend group to walk down the aisle. That also meant being the last ones standing without babies; at every friends’ reunion there was a new baby — or at least a pregnant friend. 
        “I want more,” you’d said to him at one of your very pregnant friend’s baby shower. 
        “More… cupcakes?” Aaron turned his head to you, giving you a dimpled smile. 
        “More of us.”
        He scanned your face up and down with a smirk. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed your baby fever, it could almost come out of your pores. 
        Profiler or husband, he understood right away what you meant with more of us.
        “We can talk about it when we get home.”
        As soon as you settled on your couch that night you had the baby talk, and agreed over a shared glass of wine that it was a good time in your marriage to start trying. You both had stable jobs and you finally admitted to him how lonely you felt the few times he wasn’t home. 
        “We could get a puppy first, though. To practice,” you smiled at him unsure. 
        “No puppy, but we’ll practice,” he teased in your ear. “A lot.”  
        You did, starting that same night. And during the course of six months, you two kept practicing and practicing in every room of your home between endless I love you’s and kisses. 
        There were a few occasions in which your body felt strange as if your hormones had started charging already, but the test would come out negative every time. That short and painful silence after you both read ‘not pregnant’ was quickly filled with Aaron’s comforting “we’ll keep trying” . 
        To you it really wasn’t a shocking surprise when three tests finally came out positive, but to him it was. 
        Aaron wasn’t prepared and got too overwhelmed the moment you gifted him a tiny box with even tinier baby clothes in it. It took him a few seconds to open his mouth and yet all he was able to say was “ wow” while he hugged you tightly, swallowing the lump that was forming on his throat and blinking too many times to scare the joyful tears away.  
        It was happening. You two had made someone with so much love from scratch and soon it wasn’t going to be just you and him anymore. 
        The first few months were hell. To you, because your pregnancy symptoms were unbearable at times, and to Aaron who was desperate to help you feel better, googling every day different ways to get rid of morning sickness. But no vitamin or sour candy helped more than his magic hands – as you called them – massaging your temples with a little bit of peppermint lotion. It worked like a charm so whenever you two ended up being a hundred miles apart because of a case, blame built in his stomach, almost getting morning sickness too. You insisted that a phone call was good, but it was never enough for him. 
        Through your entire pregnancy Aaron tried his best to be there, and even when you’d had the conversation about his time-consuming job long before deciding to make your family grow, he still felt bad every time you went to a doctor’s appointments on your own. The pictures you sent him of your ultrasounds only made that feeling worse, but he never mentioned it to you. 
        Many weird food cravings, baby kicks and bump massages went by until the scheduled due date came. Hearing that first baby cry swelled Aaron’s chest with a kind of happiness he’d never experienced before, and the moment he held his newborn baby for the first time, her crying stopped. He knew that’s what he was meant to be, then as he kissed his daughter’s forehead, he promised himself to always be there. For you, for your baby, and that you’ll always have it all. 
        Time has always been the hardest thing to give. Something you learned to cherish with him the most since you started dating, so you were used to it. 
        Aaron… not so much. 
        If it were possible he would split himself into two, to be there for his family as much as being there for a victim. Most of the time, he chose the victim knowing well he’d find you at home safe and sound, and that was his best reward. And yet sometimes that guilt remained there, heavy on his chest and would try his best not to bring it home. 
        His sanctuary. 
        Ever since your daughter came to your life, Aaron felt safer at home for some reason. He’d get submerged in that comforting and faint baby perfume the instant he stepped one foot inside your place.
        And tonight, as he tossed his briefcase on the couch and his keys on the small table by the entrance, that perfume was stronger, meaning you’d probably finished getting her ready for bed not long ago.
        It was late and there was a chance you were awake, but he still stealthily walked through the house searching for you. 
        Each quiet room belonged to your daughter. She was everywhere, from the baby toys scattered in the bathtub, to the small pile of clean laundry on your bed, half folded. 
        When he found you on the warm lighted nursery, asleep on the rocking chair with your baby sleeping in your arms, he leaned against the door frame and stared at you for who knows how long, cherishing the view with a smile. You always seemed so peaceful, yet he could tell by the slight frown across your face that you were exhausted. 
        Then again, that guilt appeared — that ticking clock on the back of his head that haunted him, telling him to love you good and fast. 
        You were in fact asleep, but he needed to hear your voice. He walked up to you and leaned to give you a kiss on the top of your head.
        You groaned as a sign you were waking up and with squinted eyes you smiled at him. “Hey.” Aaron crouched next to you, kissing your baby’s head too.  “What time is it?”
        “Almost midnight.”
        “You okay?” You asked without a particular reason.
        He simply nodded as he kissed your lips, as a way of greeting, as goodnight, as an ‘ I love you’ , as an ‘I’m sorry’.. .
        It didn’t matter. The feeling of longing when his lips touched yours was always there.
        You nodded back and carefully rose from the chair, tucking your baby on her crib. Aaron was right behind you and wrapped one arm around your waist, kissing your cheek. 
        “I expected you tomorrow,” you murmured, turning your head to him.  
        “We finished sooner and I– I couldn’t wait until morning.”
        “You took a commercial flight again ?” 
        Aaron raised his brows as he nodded. 
        He’d done that many times before when a case was in a nearby state (but the pilot wasn’t available until early the next morning). You’d told him he shouldn’t spend money on a flight if he could wait a few more hours, but he was impatient most of the time. The next morning was always too late for him and he never really looked at flight prices if it meant he’d see his family soon. 
        “Hey,” you noticed an odd look on his face, “what’s wrong?” 
        At that moment —besides his loud mind — absolutely nothing. 
        Aaron kissed your cheek once again and merely said, “I just missed you.”
        While you two stayed quiet admiring how your daughter slept, Aaron’s only thought was how you were almost raising your kid on your own, how all he ever got to see was how good of a parent you were becoming and how stuck and new to it he still was.
        “You can talk to me.” You snapped him out of his anguished thoughts and brought the hand on your hip to your lips, kissing his palm.
        “I know,” he smiled but you gave him your classic not-so-convinced eyebrow-raise. 
        Sharing your life with a profiler has developed your own kind of profiling method. It was different from his, but you could read every raise of a brow, every lick of his lips and every slow blink. You also knew when those dimples you adored so much weren’t as genuine, that he was hiding his feelings as he used to do in the beginning of your relationship. 
        Aaron remained staring at you while you kept trying to read him. 
        “What?” He asked in a teasing tone when he caught a glimpse of a smile on your eyes. 
        “Did you know,” you started, clearing your throat, “that she never finishes her milk?” You gestured at your baby with your brows. “But whenever you give her her dinner, there isn’t one single drop left on her bottle?”
        Aaron smiled, “You’ve never told me that?”
        You turned your whole body to him, clutching his waist and in return he cupped your face, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs.
        “You always brag about how she sleeps all night, too,” you laughed a little, ”because whenever you’re home she never wakes up, but that’s because it’s you who always puts her to bed.”
        “So she’s not really a good sleeper?” He asked.
        “The nights you’re not here are coincidentally her bad nights.”
        “Sorry.”
        You shook your head and smiled at him for a moment, then said, “You’re a great dad, Aaron. Our little girl knows that, I know that.” He cut you off by giving you a soft quick peck on your lips before letting you continue, “and you are the best  – and sexiest – husband in the world.” 
        Aaron chuckled. He may never get used to hearing you call him sexy . 
        You two held an intimate stare for a few seconds. Those stares in which you say I love you in every language with one single shared glimmer of eyes. 
        You sighed deeply and kept going, “I know you only focus on the times you’re away, and I’m gonna be honest, I do wish you were home more often with a regular schedule but honey, that would kill you.” He sucked in a breath in clear struggle trying to say something too but nothing came out. “I met you loving your job, and I know you love us more than anything. You’re passionate about the things you love and...we’re still figuring it out. This whole parenting thing.”
        As always, you’d hit the nail. 
        “It’s not a competition between work and your family,” you added, “and if you feel that way, like you have to choose every time your phone rings in the middle of a cheesy family moment… we need to work on that,” you teased, raising your brows at him the way he always did. 
        “I feel like I’m missing so much,” he said, glancing at your baby for a second. “I look back and wish I’d been there every day through your pregnancy. And now I’m doing the exact same thing. She’s gonna turn one soon and every time I get home she seems bigger.”
        “That’s because she’s gonna be as tall as you,” you tried to lighten it up a bit, but it hurt knowing he was struggling with things you could easily get through just by talking about them. “We’re learning here, you and me, we’re a team and we can always get better if we work together. Don’t beat yourself up.”
        “What can I do?” A sigh escaped past his mouth. “To be better for you?”
        To avoid coming home one day and not find you.
        “Aaron,” you stroked his cheek with the back of your curled fingers. “I love you. So much. I’m not gonna tell you what to do, mainly because there’s no need, you’re already perfect–”
        No matter how many times you said that, that was the only thing he couldn’t believe.
        “I’m so scared to lose you,” he whispered.
        “You’re so crazy,” you chuckled; he didn’t. You tried to find his eyes but they were shut with a pained frown and stayed like that while you said, “Every time you kiss me, every time you hold our baby and I see how amazing you’re with her… I fall in love with you all over again.”
        You closed your eyes too and licked your lips in deep thought. You hated the fact that he’d never capture himself the way you did – how truly perfect he was. 
        “I don’t see that ever happening, leaving you. I would be stupid crazy,” you assured him, giving him one quick kiss. “Unless you cheat on me,” you teased again. 
        “I would never,” he said in a very serious tone staring right back at you.  
        “We’ll be right here, then.” You circled his nose with yours. “I’m here for you, honey. Always, and if you need me to reassure you everyday of our life, I will. Just… talk to me, okay? You know I love listening to you.”
        He nodded, returning the kiss before pulling you into a strong hug and stayed there, breathing each other in for a moment while hearing your daughter’s calm breathing.
        “And she does too,” you half-broke the hug keeping your arms around his waist. “I tried telling her one of your stories tonight but... it didn’t work.”
        “How did you get her to sleep, then?”
        You snickered at him reaching for your phone, and after a few taps on the screen, Aaron’s voice telling your daughter’s favourite bedtime story began to sound out of the speakers.
        “Is that me?” He tilted his brow with a slight smirk. 
        “I may have voice recorded you once or twice telling her a story?” You bit your lip and let the sound play as you continued, “I knew it’d come in handy. I’m not a good storyteller like you.”
        “God,” he sighed deep. “I love you so much.”
        And as he held your face and gave you one more loving kiss on your lips, the ticking clock froze and each time he doubted himself vanished, letting himself breathe at peace for the first time in a while. 
        “I love you,” You murmured against his lips, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “And your voice helps me fall asleep too.”
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thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year
Text
How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst
Feb. Requests-4
In which Spencer and Y/N are dating and it’s great but the only problem is… she’s Rossi’s daughter
Warnings: semi-smutty scenes, dirty talkin… fluff, lying, horny!Spencer, spence being reckless and reader being scared 💀
Spencer Reid x fem!rossi!reader
All parts of this are up on my pinned masterlist!
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“Ohmygod, Spencer!” Y/N giggled as she inspected his face. She sat on his lap, touching his skin where she had noticed a bruise.
“I know…” He groaned.
Y/N eyes flickered up to his. “And you didn’t think to tell me that the guy beat your ass before you knocked him out?” She said, talking about the unsub from the last case Spencer was on.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Okay baby, first of all, he did not beat my ass. He punched me once before I hit him with a crowbar. And second, can we stop talking about creepy psychopaths so I can fuck you?” He asked watching her face turn red.
Y/N kissed his lips and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hands found her hips naturally and he kissed her back, rubbing his thumbs over the hip bones. Now, this process would have moved a lot slower had she still had pants on but the moment Spencer got to her apartment he took them off of her. Now she was just left in a pair of her underwear and a loose t-shirt.
She moaned as one hand slid from her hip and between her legs, rubbing softly. She pulled away from his lips and hid her face in his shoulder, breathing heavily.
His lips found her neck as he kept rubbing, chuckling at how wet she was and he had just started touching her. “You miss me while I was gone, baby?” He asked into her skin.
She nodded, a whine leaving her lips. “I missed you and those hands of yours.”
Spencer smirked and helped her sit back up so he could look at her face. “What about my di-“
His words were cut off by the sound of one of their phones ringing. He groaned and held onto her ass, not wanting to stop trying to make her feel good. Y/N kissed his lips and crawled off of him, smiling at the fact that his hand stayed on her ass as long as it could before she was out of reach.
She looked on her bedside table and groaned when she realized that her father was calling her. “It’s mine.”
Y/N cleared her throat and picked it up. “Hey, dad!” She smiled, glancing back at Spencer who pressed his lips together and widened his eyes.
“Good morning, Y/N/N my beautiful.” He spoke. He sounded extra cheery this morning.
Spencer climbed up next to her and placed his hand on her thigh. She glared at him with her eyes but smiled with her lips. “What’s up, dad?”
Somehow, Spencer ended up laying between her legs pressing soft kisses on the insides of her thighs. Y/N dropped her mouth open wanting to moan so badly.
“I’m having a dinner on Saturday night and I want you to be there.” Rossi said. “Uncle Hotch wants to see you. So does the rest of the team.”
Spencer looked up at her, smirking and nodding as he continued to tease her. She grabbed his hair and pulled it harshly trying to get him to stop with a smile on her face.
He did not stop. In fact, his lips turned into his tongue, licking and biting the insides of her thighs. His hands grabbed the outsides, squeezing roughly.
“Y-yeah! I would love to come.” She replied, her mouth falling open when his lips got closer.
Closer… closer… closer—
“Sweetie?”
Y/N snapped out of her thoughts. “Sorry, dad. Got a little uh… distracted. What did you say?”
Rossi chuckled on the other end. “Uh I know you’ve got this… crush on Reid but…”
“Sorry— what? You’re breaking up.” Y/N furrowed her brows.
“I said I don’t want you to have a crush on—“
“Whoa— sorry dad. I can’t hear you. I have something in the oven that’s gonna burn— gotta go. Bye, love you!”
She hung up the phone, tossed it somewhere and shut her eyes. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at her. “You have a crush on me?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”
Spencer chuckled and swiftly flipped them over so she was hovering over his face. “By sitting on my face?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’m okay with that.”
.•.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Thursday morning and Y/N though she would stop by her dad’s office and bring everyone donuts.
She walked through with the box and smiled at the people who greeted her. She walked into the bullpen, Derek spotting her first.
“Hey, Rossi Junior!” He called out. “Good to see you, girl.” He smiled as he hugged her. “Even better to see you with food.” He kissed her cheek as the other started walking over to them. Derek took the box from her and set it down on one of the desks.
Rossi and Hotch walked up side by side and Spencer behind them with JJ and Garcia. “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, daddy.” She smiled as he kissed both of her cheeks.
Hotch gave her a hug and greeted her swiftly. Garcia squealed as she hugged Y/N and rocked her back and forth. “Ugh! I haven’t seen this beautiful baby face in so long!” She said squeezing the woman.
“Pen— can’t… breathe.” Penelope apologized and let her go, pinching her cheek and going to see what kind of donuts she brought.
JJ and Emily hugged her next and then it got to Spencer. She glanced at his sexy face before nodding at him, knowing that he doesn’t really like physical contact.
It was crazy because she was sitting on his face not too long ago.
“So what brings you by, Y/N/N?” Derek asked, chewing on a glazed donut.
Y/N walked over leaning against a desk next to her dad who wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Oh, I was just on my way to work and I realized how much I missed you all so I brought you donuts and myself.” She smiled, motioning to both things.
She could swear she felt Spencer’s eyes on her. They usually were.
“Aw that’s sweet.” Emily smiled.
Y/N nodded. “I should really get going now.” She kicked off of the desk. “But I’m gonna go use the bathroom first.” She added.
Rossi rubbed her arm. “We’ll be in the round table room briefing so we’ll see you Saturday.”
Y/N smiled, kissing her father’s cheek. “See you all Saturday.”
They all said their goodbyes and she walked towards the bathroom.
When she got in there she smiled and waited by the door. A few moments later there were three knocks and she opened the door, quickly pulling her boyfriend in.
Desperate lips met hers and she reached behind him to lock the door as she kissed him. “I missed you.” She said in between kisses.
Spencer chuckled. “You saw me yesterday.” He smiled as her kisses grew deeper.
She hummed. “I wanna see you all day, every day.” She spoke, pulling away from him with a small pout on her lips. “How’d you get away from them?” She asked.
“I told them my mom called.” He whispered, pecking her lips. He gasped in shock when she hit his shoulder.
“Don’t use your mom to lie, Spencer that’s not nice!” She shook her head.
Spencer tilted his head to the side. “Would you rather me have told them that I was coming to make out with you or…” Y/N rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, get back out there. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She giggled, pushing him away gently.
Spencer shook his head. “No, you’ll see me tonight.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Yours or mine?”
The man caressed her cheek gently. “Mine. I’m gonna cook you dinner with all of the fun kitchen gadgets you made me buy.”
Y/N scoffed. “Spence, you didn’t even have a can opener!” She patted his chest and laughed.
He chuckled and kissed her once, twice, three times before she pushed him away. “Go before they get suspicious.” She whispered.
Spencer reluctantly pulled away and unlocked the bathroom door, slipping out discreetly and leaving Y/N to stand there with a warm smile on her face.
.•.•.•.•.•.
It was Saturday night and Spencer watched Y/N try on four different dresses from his spot in his bed.
They would leave from the same place but take different cars so it wasn’t suspicious. Spencer would take the longer way there and Y/N wold take the short cut.
“I don’t know, I think I like the blue one.” She said, turning so she could see the back in the mirror. She had on a blue satin dress that had a little bow on the back.
Spencer bit his lip. “Yeah… I definitely like the blue one too.” He said, looking at where the neckline swooped down.
“Stop looking at my boobs and come zip me up, please.” He rolled his eye with a smile and slid off the bed, walking up behind her and slowly lifting the zipper, stopping right before it was at the end.
“Are you sure I can’t unzip you?” He asked. “We’ve got thirty minutes and with the way you look, I only need five.” He dipped his head down, kissing her neck.
Y/N’s shoulders raised and she hummed. “You can take the dress off me when we get back here after dinner.” She said, planting her hand in his hair. “I can’t get all messed up. The they’ll know we’re together.”
Spencer groaned and wrapped an arm around the front of her, swiping his thumb across her red lips. “I can’t wait to see this pretty little makeup all smudged.” He said lowly into her ear. Her mouth dropped open and her chest heaved.
She wrapped her lips around his thumb and shut her eyes, her tongue swirling around it. He groaned. “I honestly don’t think I could ever get it up for anyone else.”
Y/N smirked and popped his thumb out of her mouth. “Change your tie. It’s the same color as my dress. We’re gonna look like we’re going to freakin’ prom together.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and stalked over to his closet.
.•.•.•.•.•.
Spencer arrived at Rossi’s 20 minutes after Y/N. She was chatting with Garcia and JJ over a glass of wine. She looked so pretty laughing and smiling.
“Hey, kid!” Rossi greeted, snapping him out of his trance. He smiled at the man. “There’s wine in the dining room, dinner will be done soon.”
“Great.” He smiled.
He was about to make his way to the dining room but Garcia called his name. “Boy Wonder! Over here!”
He stopped and sighed before turning to them with a smile. Y/N smiled at him, crossing her arms and sipping her wine.
“Soooooo, what are you doing for your birthday this year?” The blonde asked, grinning.
Hopefully getting my dick sucked. “Uh…” He shrugged. “I think I’m just gonna take my mom out to dinner and go buy some more books.” He nodded.
Derek came up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Uh, no.” He shook his head. “You can do the mom thing just no books, you nerd.” He spoke. “I’m taking you to a strip club.”
Y/N’s breath hitched and she slid her tongue across her teeth. Spencer glanced at Garcia before looking at his girlfriend. Hotch and Rossi joined their circle.
“Uh… I’m okay, actually. I’d rather just stay home.” He nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Derek scoffed. “Why? You got a girl or something?” Spencer tired and successfully avoided glancing at Y/N and shook his head shrugging.
“No, I just… don’t really wanna go see a bunch of naked girls.” I only wanna see one naked girl.
Emily snorted. “What planet are you from? What man doesn’t want to see a bunch of naked girls dancing around, swinging their hoo-has in your face?”
“Swinging?” Y/N grimaced. “What strip clubs have you been to?” She laughed.
Emily scoffed. “The good kind.”
Garcia shook her head. “Okay— anyway, I think Reid has a girlfriend, who’s with me?” She raised her hand.
Everyone including Y/N raised their hands. She pressed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth to keep from laughing.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Guys I don’t have a girlfriend.” He said, pulling his hand out of his pocket.
“Why is your thumb red?” JJ asked, nodding at his hand.
Y/N pressed her lips together and looked at the ground.
Spencer opened his mouth but shut it again. “I was making Kool-Aid earlier and that stuff stains like a bitch.”
Y/N sighed and shook her head slightly. Literally everyone on this room knows I live off of Kool-Aid. Literally had a Kool-Aid man themed birthday part, I am so obsessed.
She looked back up to meet her father’s stare. Y/N/N, Can you help me with the Carbonara?” He asked, nodding his head to the kitchen.
She swallowed and nodded, putting a smile on her face. She glanced at Spencer before following her father into the kitchen.
“Ooh, It smells good, dad.” She hummed, hoping that he wouldn’t try and talk to her about what all the awkwardness with Spencer was about.
“I remember when you were a little girl and you first learned how to make it with me.” He smiled, leaning against the counter on his palms.
Her phone buzzed in her bag and she took it out quickly.
Dick Dealer💘
How to lie to a behavior analyst: Don’t maintain excessive eye contact, keep your voice even, say my name if you refer to me, don’t fidget— I love you
She inhaled deeply and slid her phone back in her bag, setting it on the counter. “I love cooking with you, dad.” She smiled.
Rossi nodded towards his spice organizer and she walked over grabbing the black pepper and garlic powder.
“Can you be honest with me for a moment, sweetie?” He asked as she sprinkled the seasonings in. She glanced at him.
“Yeah, always.” She shrugged, smiling.
He walked around the kitchen island and sighed. “Are you… involved with Spencer Reid?”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, her lips quirking up. “What? No, of course not.”
Rossi nodded. “I just… I just noticed some weird stuff back in there. The way you got… jealous when Derek mentioned taking Spencer to a— his birthday plans.” He grimaced.
Y/N laughed a little, trying to keep her voice even. She looked at her dad, making eye contact with him. “Well, like you said you did figure out that I have a crush on Spencer. I was just jealous about that.” She shrugged.
Rossi nodded. “A-and I’ve noticed how weird it is that you seemingly ignore him when we’re all together. What’s up with that?”
Y/N scoffed. “God, dad. Do I need a lawyer or something? Why are you grilling me?”
The father sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just a little protective.”
His daughter smiled and looked back down at the pot she was stirring. “No, it’s okay. I get it but there’s nothing going on between Spencer and I.”
He smiled and kissed her head. “I’ve got it from here if you wanna go back out with your friends.”
Y/N bit her lip. “I think I’ll stay here with you. We need to catch up. How’s Crystal?”
.•.•.•.•.•.
At dinner, Spencer sat across the way from his girlfriend. He was sitting beside Rossi so there was no way he could see the looks that he was giving Y/N.
He was mostly giving her worried looks because she wasn’t making eye contact with him at all.
Once dinner was done, she stuck around to help clean up. Spencer bit his lip as he left the Rossi household, glancing at Y/N through the window before getting in his car and driving home where he would meet Y/N.
.•.•.•.
“Fuck!” Y/N panted and rolled off of him. Spencer gripped her hips even as she collapsed on the bed beside him, squeezing his eyes shut.
She shut her eyes and bit her lip, scooting forward to wrap her legs around his waist and laying her head on his chest. “M’sleepy, Spence.” She mumbled.
“So what did you and your dad talk about?” He asked, rubbing her skin.
Y/N popped her eyes back open. “Are you really asking me about my dad not even thirty seconds after I rode your dick?” She grimaced.
Spencer chuckled. “M’sorry, baby.” He kissed her head. “I just— you got all weird during dinner. You weren’t even looking at me.”
Y/N sighed. “He just asked me if I was ‘involved’ with you. I denied it, of course but I’m still not sure that he fully believes me.” She shrugged. “Did he say something to you?”
Spencer shook her head. “Nope.”
Y/N bit her lip. “Good.” She pressed her forehead into Spencer’s chest again and kissed it. “I’m going to sleep unless you wanna go again?” She smirked.
“You horn dog. Go to sleep.” He chuckled. “I love you.”
Y/N hummed and giggled sleepily. “I love you.”
An hour later Spencer was still awake, running his fingertips across the bare skin of Y/N’s back gently as she slept. His phone buzzed on the bedside table and he sighed, pausing his movements and reached over to grab it.
Rossi
I know she thinks you two are hiding it well. I’ll let you get away with it for now. You hurt my daughter, I shoot you in the face.
Spencer’s eyes widened and he almost groaned loudly had Y/N not been asleep on his chest.
He gulped and put his phone down deciding that he wouldn’t tell Y/N that her dad knew about them until it was a problem.
Which even when it was, he would still do everything to make sure she never got hurt.
.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.
I ABSOLUTELY LOVED WRITING THIS OMGGG
AND I LOVE YOU READER (WHO ASKED NOT TO BE TAGGED) If it’s not how you’d hoped, I will happily rewrite it:)
Spence and Y/N really we’re just horny this entire time💀 also Derek is an asshole 😭
8K notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 1 month
Text
the problem with arguing
a/n: Hi, this is my first story, any constructive criticism is welcomed. This had not been properly edited nor read through because icba lmao :) also I wrote it for a fem!reader but I don't think there's much mention other than Jack calling reader 'mom' so... yeah :)
pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic BAUteam x reader, motherly(If that's a word?)reader x teen!jack hotchner
summary: aaron and you are in a fight, but what happens when a meeting with a witness goes south?
warnings: criminal minds levels of violence, angst, fluff, couple fighting, reader in distress, reader getting injured, mentions of knives, mentions of being stabbed, mentions of being tied up, mentions of hospitals, mentions of killing, mentions of general injury, mentions of guns/shooting, minimal use of y/n.
1.6k + words.
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“We’re here, we’ll update you if anything comes of it,” Morgan promises Hotch over the phone as we walk to the front porch of one of our witnesses. Something about his story is messed up and we were the unlucky ones who had to go talk to him. It’s a pretty house I guess, a little expensive for what a 26 year old man could afford, and what he would want to buy. It’s all fifties style, the entire estate is. Big-enough bungalows with pastel walls and inviting doors with a small porch, just enough for the entry-way and a chair. I knock on the door, exhausted from the past 72 hours. Aaron and I got in a fight before we got to Ohio, it was unnecessary, but we fought all the same. He was mad at me for giving Jack advice that led to a fight between them. I just wanted to kiss and make up 3 days ago but he won’t budge. Maybe it’s because he knows I’m right and doesn’t want to confront it or maybe it’s because I took it too far and overstepped. Jack calls me ‘mom’, I live with him, and Jack came to me for support, he wanted guidance and I gave him it. He was mad at his dad because he missed meeting his girlfriend. His girlfriend, Ava, was a lovely girl, I had been the one there when Jack brought her over for dinner, I was the one trying to suss out if they actually liked each other, and I was the one Jack sat down with for 2 hours after and told everything about her to. All because Aaron was too busy with paperwork in his study. Jack was hurt, which is difficult to do because he’s such an understanding 16 year-old boy. It was also hard because I saw both sides. I’ll be the first to admit that what Aaron did was wrong, but our job is hard and demanding, especially his since he’s the leader of our team… But Jack just wanted 2 hours of his time, not even, just a dinner. A dinner to meet his girlfriend, and Aaron still couldn’t make it. 
I knock again as I huff. 
“Everything alright?” Morgan asks, the regular playful glint in his eye. 
“Tired, mad, over this job. You?” I sigh. 
“Sounds about right,” He chuckles. “How’s Jack doing?” 
A smile spreads across my face. “He has a girlfriend,” Morgan’s face lights up in a smile. 
“My man,” He smirks and I chuckle. “You two met her yet?” 
My face drops again. “I have, Aaron… couldn’t make it to the dinner though. She’s lovely, perfect for Jack. It's so funny, it’s just opposites attract. Jack is so sporty and outspoken and she’s one of the quieter, more into her studies kind of person.” 
The door swings open and we’re met with David, our witness. 
“You two know what time it is?” He yawns. 
“Oh trust us, we know,” Morgan sighs. “Can we ask you a few more questions?” 
“It’s 10pm at night? Can’t this wait ‘till the morning?”
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” I reassure. 
He looks between us for a moment, then sighs. “Quickly.”
We walk inside and are immediately hit with an awful smell. I know that smell. That’s when I see it, a body.
And that’s when it all goes black. 
I wake up in a new room, tied to a chair. I don’t see Derrick anywhere. I don’t see David anywhere. I’m all alone in this grey room. I don’t see a door but I notice a camera, and a screen in front of me. I see Penelope on the screen, then a sign above it with “Don’t make noise” scribbled. I look to my left and see a plastic window, I see Morgan through it, tied up too. He sees me. 
“Y/n? Y/n?! Where are you?” Penelope squeals. I shake my head and she picks up her phone and tries calling mine, it rings and I feel something go into my side. I scream out in pain as I see the blood start trickling out of me. Penelope drops her phone, then picks it up, dialling someone else’s number. 
I get switched to a joint call with Penelope, and the rest of the team, excluding Aaron. 
“Y/n?” Spencer asks and I nod, sobbing in pain. Spencer runs off-screen, leaving Jj and Emily to stare in horror at me.
Spencer comes back with Aaron and we make eye-contact through the screen, and he starts breaking. He’s shouting orders at the policemen in the precinct, he’s shouting orders at the team, and he’s trying not to cry. I know that. I also know I’m the only one who knows that. He hides it pretty well but not from me, not after all of our years together. His eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow more than usual, he starts biting at the skin around his nails. 
“We’re coming to find you. We will find you,” he promises me. I nod slowly as the pain in my side becomes unbearable as the knife is pulled out. 
“Is Morgan with you?” Emily asks and I nod as I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop myself from making too much noise. 
“Is he in the room with you?” Spencer asks. 
I shake my head no. After what feels like an eternity of yes or no questions, they think they’ve located us.I hear banging on the door and then it opens. Spencer is standing there with an entire Swat team behind him. I shake my head to tell them to not make noise but they talk anyway and another knife is put into my leg, I don’t have the strength to stay quiet this time and another finds its way into my arm. I pass out. 
I wake up in a hospital bed, an IV in my arm, Aaron on one side and Jack on the other. Aaron’s asleep in a chair on my left, I grimace, knowing his back will hurt. 
“Mom?!” Jack exclaims as he sees me open my eyes. “Mom!” His eyes fill with tears as he gets up and wraps his arms around me on the bed. 
“Jack,” I sigh in relief. 
“You’re okay! You’re awake!” He smiles brightly, happy that I’m alive. 
Aaron wakes up from the commotion and rushes to my side. “Honey?” He takes my hand and squeezes. “You’re okay.”
I smile at both of them. 
“I’ll go get the doctor,” Jack smiles and he rushes off to find a doctor. 
“Honey I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” He starts but I cut him off. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too,” he sighs, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Don’t go all soft now Aaron,” I joke. 
“You make me soft,” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. 
Jack comes back in with a doctor. She tells me that I lost a lot of blood and that I will be out of the field for a few months, with 2 weeks of mandatory bedrest, then 4 weeks of physical therapy. 
The next day, the team come in to visit. 
“Hey,” Spencer smiles, walking in first. I’ve always been close to Spencer, he’s always felt like a little brother to me. 
“Hey,” I smile and wince when I hug him, but I know it’s worth it. The rest of the team filter in, smiles on their faces.“So what happened after I went out?”
“Well, they got me, no injuries apart from a concussion,” Morgan says. 
“We got the guy-” Emily starts.
“Aaron got the guy,” Spencer interrupts. “He saw him and just shot him-”
“And then he beat the crap out of him,” Jj says. “It was pretty intense.”
I nod along as they tell me the story, and then we just talk about whatever until Aaron comes in and says visiting hours are over. Spencer leaves me a few more books to read and Jj brings Jack to Ava’s house for the night. Aaron walks in with my dinner on a tray. 
“Hungry?” He smiles. 
“You shot someone for me?” I ask as he places my tray down.
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes and smile at him. “Is he alive?”
“No.” 
My face drops. “Oh.” 
“It was the combined bleeding and head trauma that killed him.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I did.” 
I look at my food. “I understand you wanted to protect me-”
“I did that because he doesn’t get to live after doing this to you. Honey, you and Jack are the most important people in my life and I would do anything if it meant that you were safe and sound. Do you want to know how it felt to have what could’ve been my last words to you be ‘stop bothering me’? I was an asshole to you over the Jack situation because I knew you were right. I knew it wasn’t fair to not go to dinner when I was in the house. I knew it was important and it just felt too real. It felt like he was growing up and I just couldn’t take it because I missed so much of his childhood! So I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry that I said everything I said and did what I did, but I am not sorry about hurting that fucking monster,” He takes a deep breath. “Now eat up, it’ll go cold.”
“I love you Aaron, it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault, being a parents is hard.” 
His eyes fill with tears and he looks at me like an injured puppy. 
“Come here,” I smile and move over, allowing room for him to sit with me. He climbs into bed beside me and wraps his arms around me, being careful of my wounds. 
“I love you,” he whispers as I slowly eat my food. 
“I love you too.”
436 notes · View notes
specialagentlokitty · 2 months
Text
Hotch x reader - not so secret
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Hello, I hope it's not too much to ask. Could you possibly do a Hotch x BAU!reader, where they get caught (nothing spicy tho, if that makes sense) in his office by his team. - Anon💜
Slipping into the office, you closed the door quietly behind you and grinned a little as you turned around.
“Didn’t I tell you to take the day off?” Hotch asked.
“Well, yeah, but I was bored.”
Hotch hummed a little, closing the file on his desk.
“You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.”
“Neither have you.” You countered.
Hotch chuckled a little bit, standing up and he closed the blinds, walking over to you and he brushed his knuckles along your cheek.
He leant down, pressing his lips to your forehead, and you closed your eyes.
“I’ll be fine.” He whispered.
“Just take a small break Aaron, before you overwork yourself…”
Hotch smiled softly at you, running a thumb along your cheek.
“Alright, a small break. Now show me what’s in your pockets.”
You walked over to his desk, reaching into the pockets of your jacket you pulled out a cup of coffee, setting it down, then you reached into the other pocket, pulling out another cup.
“(Y/N), darling, I love you, but I’ve told you to stop putting coffee cups in your pockets.”
“Ha, jokes on you aaron I have more.”
You unzipped your jacket, reaching into the inside pockets to pull out a bag, and Hotch walked over, looking inside of it.
“Okay, so now you’re carrying a bag of doughnuts?”
You grinned and him and Hotch placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you around and reached into your other pocket, pulling some candy bars out.
“Snacks?”
“I plan on staying so suck it up.”
He chuckled again, holding the back of your jacket so you could take it off and he hung it up with his own before walking back over.
Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you cradled his face between your hands, letting him lean into your touch.
The moment your hands held his face he immediately relaxed, letting out a sigh of content.
“You need to take care of yourself too… I’m worried about how hard you work…” you whispered.
“I know… I know I’m sorry…”
Hotch leant down, brushing his lips against yours in the ghost of a kiss.
He wasn’t always one for initiating physical contact, sometimes he over thought, and so you leant forward to kiss him.
You moved a hand to the back of his head, playing with the hairs in the base of his neck, and he smiled into the kiss.
He pulled away only slightly.
You frowned a little bit.
“They’ll catch us out eventually..” he whispered.
You shrugged a little bit, placing your hand on the back of his head.
“I don’t care…”
This made him chuckle a little bit and lean back down to give you another kiss before he finally pulled away fully.
Hotch picked up your coffee cup, handing it to you, and picked up his own, sitting down in front of his desk.
You sat down with him, resting your head in his lap as you looked up at him, setting your coffee down in favour for holding his hand in yours instead.
You held your hand in the air, staring up at your conjoined fingers.
“So, have you thought anymore about the weekend?” He asked.
“You mean going away?”
He hummed a little, nodding his head.
“Yeah, what do you think about it? You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to, Jack is as begging me all last night to ask you again.”
You laughed softly, resting both your hands on your stomach.
Hotch set his coffee down, bringing his other hand up to run his hand over your hair.
“I think it sounds pretty cool, I loved camping when I was a kid, my dad taught me everything I know.”
“So, does that mean you can pass your well rounded knowledge of camping down to Jack ready for his trip next month?” He grinned a little.
You laughed softly, bringing his hand up so you could kiss the back of his hand.
“Yes dear, I will pass my camping wisdom on to your son and teach him all he needs to know.”
Hotch grinned a little, leaning down and you met him halfway so you could kiss him.
“You’re a lifesaver…” he whispered.
“I’m just that great.” You beamed.
He chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, and his office door was opened.
You tilted tour head back, and he looked up, you grinned a little bit while he just stared at Garcia.
“Garcia don’t do it.” He warned.
She squealed a little bit, clamping a hand over her mouth.
“Garcia?” You asked.
“I’m sorry I can’t! Oh this is so juicy!” She equaled.
“Garcia!” You both yelled.
It was too late because she was already running down the stairs and you snickered a little, resting your head back on Hotch’s lap.
He sighed, but let out a small chuckle.
“Guess times up on keeping this hidden.”
You hummed a little, sitting up and turning around to face him.
“Is it really so bad?”
“No, it isn’t. I’m happy to know that they all know, but you’re answering all the questions.”
“Is that really a wise idea Aaron?” Rossi asked.
You and Hotch stood up, turning to the faces of the grinning team who were blocking the exit.
“You’re both going to answer all our questions.” Derek smirked.
“Interrogation time you two, sit.” Emily said.
You and Hotch sat down at his desk, you in his chair while he sat on the desk in front of you.
You knew they weren’t going until you two had answered all their questions, you were both going to be there for a while
713 notes · View notes
maschotch · 2 years
Note
JJ isnt there so they flip the gender and say maybe a dad knows
i refuse to believe thhat meant anything other than hotch is autistic
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spaceyrosie · 3 months
Text
for you, i would ruin myself
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader, hints of Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss Summary: Hotch is a busy man and he truly tried his best to be there for his children, until one day they got into a serious accident, leaving his daughter to be seriously injured. Warnings: heavy angst, sadness, reader got seriously hurt, descriptive injuries, blood, mentions of death, Haley's death, Hotch really tried his best, cliffhanger Author's note: I've been wanting to write for Aaron Hotchner for a while now and have finally gotten the time and inspiration to do so. I don't know if I should make a second part. Word count: 2.1k
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“Dad! Hurry or Jack’s going to eat the cake all by himself!” you hollered from the living room.
Jack giggled “No I’m not,” his hand reaching out for the cookies they baked together that afternoon.
It was a peaceful day, one you have wished for a while now. Your dad’s job made it challenging for him to be home during the weekends, but today is one of the days he has taken the day off to celebrate your birthday.
“I’m coming!” Aaron replied walking to the living room to his children.
He had asked you a few weeks prior if you wanted a party for your birthday but you replied only wanting a small and quiet birthday with him and Jack. “I just want to celebrate the moment with the people I love the most, but I don’t get to do that these days.”
Aaron understands that reference, he has been travelling for work a lot in the past months. This is your first birthday since Haley passed, and it’s hard to celebrate without her.
Pulling Jack to his lap, they both sang Happy Birthday before you blew out the candles. Jack cheered, “We eat the cake and cookies now, Daddy? Please,” Giving his best pout, Aaron laughed.
“At least let y/n cut the cake first,” he chuckled while ruffling his son's hair.
As you are about to slice into the cake, they hear the dreaded ringtone from his work phone. Grimacing slightly, he picked up the call and lifted Jack from his lap before walking to the kitchen, “Hotchner. Yes, JJ?”
You tried not to let your emotions down, you knew this was part of his job. But, your fingers trembled as you sliced the cake before handing a plate to Jack. Your dad is still talking on the phone in the kitchen and judging by how his voice lowered, you know what’s about to come.
You tried to bite back the tears that were threatening to fall - will there be a time when your dad can make more time for his own family?
He walks back into the room, face pulled into a frown. He knelt before you, gaze heavy, “I’m so sorry, honey.” He started. “We got pulled into a case. I got to fly to Arizona.”
His apology lingered in the air. You nod, not really trusting your voice at the moment. You swallowed down your disappointment before forcing out a smile. 
“It’s alright, dad.” Your reply was short. You couldn’t let him see the cracks behind your smile. He carried enough burdens, with the weight of his job and being a single parent of two, you couldn’t add your disappointment to his plate.
He frowns not convinced, “Really, me and Jack will just watch Star Wars after this.” Who you are trying to convince, him or yourself, you are not sure.
He looks into your eyes, “I’ll make it up to you, honey,” he whispers, his hand cupping your cheek. You savour this moment - when was the last time Dad held you?
“We’ll be fine, Dad,” You turned away, breaking the contact, and he took the cue to grab his go-bag. Your eyes are misting up but you quickly wipe the tears away not wanting Jack or your dad to see it.
It was your birthday, after all, you are supposed to feel happy, right? Right?
Standing by the door, he crouched down to hug you before pulling away to speak to you, “Happy birthday, honey. I’ll be back soon.”
You watched him walk out the door, knowing he would not be coming home anytime soon.
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The next time Hotch dissapoints you was during the end of school year.
The ticking clock felt like a curse, each second mocking his fading hope. Hotch cursed when he saw the time - 3 hours until 7.00 pm.
Looking at the evidence board, he pinched his eyebrows together, the pins and photos taunting him with a case and the fact that he will be disappointing his daughter, again. 
He felt a buzz from his pocket notifying a text from you.
I’m getting ready for the show. See you there!
He didn’t get to reply to the text as Morgan notified him the tactical team was ready to go to the unsub’s place. Pulling on his vest, it felt tight against his chest, burned with frustration and anxiety about the situation. He gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as he led the team to the location provided.
Emily sat beside him noticing his tense posture, “You alright, Hotch?”
He doesn’t want his emotions to cloud his judgment while being in the field. Shifting his gaze into a stoic focus, he said, “Yeah, just ready to wrap the case after we catch the unsub.”
Emily was not convinced as her gaze cut through his stoic mask with her head tilted to the side and eyebrow arched. Hotch sighs, “Y/N’s recital… it’s tonight. Her solo. And I won’t be there.”
She winced, the weight of his unspoken pain echoing in the silence of the car.
“I promised to be there but I know even if we get this guy on time, by the time we arrive in Quantico, the show is finished.”
You squinted through the glare of the spotlights where a sea face blurred in your vision. Your eyes, desperate with searching, landed on Aunt Jessica’s sympathetic gaze, followed by the emptiness of the reserved seat beside her. She waved when you both locked eyes and gave you an apologetic look when your eyes lingered on the empty seat next to her.
The audience applauded after your fingers hit the last note, but all you can hear is the deafening silence inside your head. Flashes of should’ve, would’ve echoed in your head, as the seat next to Aunt Jess remained empty even until you took the final bow.
The case dragged on as Hotch and Prentiss interrogate the unsub into a confession. By the time the team puts their reports in, it's almost midnight.
Hotch tiptoed into the living room, the house quiet. Your bedroom door flicked open and you felt your dad’s presence.
“I'm sorry, honey.” His voice rasped, each word carving deeper into your disappointment.
“I-” You started, voice thick with unshed tears “I- I understand, Dad.” The lie tasted bitter in your mouth.
When he remained quiet, you continued, “It's part of the job, right.” You whispered, voice cracking at the end.
Hotch swallowed his guilt, he'll never get to see her perform on stage. “Honey, I-” He puts a hand on your shoulder to offer some sort of comfort. But, the both of you know nothing can take back his action. “I really tried to be there, y/n,” He said instead.
Still looking away from him, you took a shuddered breath before sighing, “I just…” you whispered, “I wished you were there.”
Silence consumed the room as they both weighed their words in.
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Somehow, too many disappointments led him to situations he regrets.
Hotch frowned deepened when the traffic slows during the drive back to Quantico. 
“Traffic’s unusual at this hour,” Prentiss muttered on his side.
Hotch grunted not in the mood. The team got called in for a case over the weekend, and they just finished wrapping it up. Despite it being local, he is still pissed to be working on his day off.
Sirens wailed behind their SUV, and he glanced in the rear mirror where an ambulance was passing through the traffic. The traffic moved slowly and they passed by a few police cars parked by the roadside trying to control the traffic where an accident had happened.
Amidst the flashing lights, he saw it - a black sedan crumpled beyond recognition. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw the plates before he pulled to a sudden stop by the roadside.
“Hotch? Why did we stop?”
She followed his gaze to the plate numbers before realisation dawned on her. Not caring to answer her, he jumped out of the SUV before running towards the scene. The smell of gasoline overwhelms his nostrils as his eyes wildly look around the crash site. An officer pulled in front of him, “Sir, please step back.”
“My family!” His roar cut through the atmosphere as he tried to shove past the officer. “Let me through! That’s my family!”
“Aaron!” A familiar voice hollered and he spotted Jessica’s wild curls from a distance. Jessica stumbled toward him, her face smudged with soot and blood stained her shirt. Dread fills his chest as he takes in the condition she is in.
“Jess!” His voice, usually calm and composed, cracked as he pulled her into a crushing embrace. “What’s happened? Where’s Jack?” He threw many questions. “Jess, tell me what happened! Oh my God, where’s y/n?” Aaron could feel the thumping in his chest.
Jess was crying, “I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m really sorry,” she choked out and he almost lost his mind when he heard those words from her.
Then a small figure emerge from the chaos, “Daddy!” Jack’s familiar voice brought some peace to his racing heart. Running towards the boy, who was being attended by a paramedic, he crouched down to console his son’s terrified sobs, “Hey, buddy. Oh Jack, ohh,” Jack was crying, a deep gash etched across his forehead.
His gaze, frantic and desperate, scoured the scene before he landed on a stretcher with you lying on top. He felt his heart drop when he saw your face, pale with a brutal gash mirroring the one on Jack’s head.
“y/n!” The name ripped from his throat as he nearly scrambled to run towards you.
“y/n! Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Aaron begged as he stood by your side. 
“Sir, please step aside so we can help her,” One of the paramedics told him.
He begged, “P-please, she’s my daughter,” Tears were streaming down his face, “Y/n, I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here,” He sobbed trying to take hold of your hand. It felt cold to his touch, you have lost too much blood, causing your body temperature to drop.
You stirred before your eyes fluttered open, “D- dad?” your voice croaked.
Gripping your hand tightly, “I’m here, honey. Dad’s here,” Aaron assured.
Gaze unfocused as your eyes stared ahead, “D- dad, you’re h-here?” You try to reach out. Aaron tried to smooth out the hair out of your face, his face coming into your view.
“I’m here, y/n.” He assured again.
“Dad… it hurts...” You cried, and Hotch felt like his heart had been stabbed. Your whole body was on fire and your breathing hurt. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the blood smearing your face.
“I know, sweetheart, I know. But you’re going to be okay. They are going to help you, okay.” His reassurances trembled, knowing he should not make any promises given the condition you are in.
Before you could reply, your eyes fluttered shut before your grip slackened in his. He panicked, calling out your name, “Wake up y/n,” His calloused hand cupped your cheeks, a silent plea etched in his words.
“Don’t do this, honey. Open your eyes, y/n.” His voice, usually strong and steady, cracked as he choked back a sob.
“Step aside, sir.” One of the paramedics immediately rushed.
Right in front of him, he saw another paramedic insert a breathing tube into his daughter’s mouth to help you breathe. Aaron saw his world turned dark when the monitor connecting to your chest beeped rapidly, signalling the heart's struggle to beat rhythmically. 
Hotch felt like he failed you.
He failed to protect you.
He failed to be the father you need.
“We are going to be taking your daughter to Georgetown University Hospital, sir,” The paramedic informed as the stretcher was wheeled into the ambulance. “She’s not stable, you can follow us in your vehicle,” He said sympathetically.
His fingers dug into the cold metal of the stretcher, refusing to let go. "I have to be with her," his voice rough with desperation. "Please, just let me hold her hand."
The paramedic's gaze softened, but his hands stayed firm. "She's losing too much blood, sir. Every minute counts. You'll be with her soon, I promise."
Aaron nodded and released his grip, a sob escaping his throat. Images flickered behind his eyes: empty birthday chairs, unanswered phone calls, a whispered promise to come home. How many times had he failed to be there? How many moments had slipped through his fingers, swallowed by the demands of work?
Haley’s pained voice, etched in his memory, morphed into y/n’s bloodied face.
How many times have you needed him but he wasn’t there?
How many times did he leave his family for work?
His knees buckled as he watched the ambulance drive into the night, flashing sirens blurring into the smoked air. His hands trembled on his side unable to control the weight of guilt inside him.
Emily’s voice cut through the fog, “Hotch,” No amount of words can offer him any comfort in that moment. She tried, nevertheless, “She’s strong, Aaron.” 
He hopes so.
He really hopes that you’ll be okay.
517 notes · View notes
ssaaaronmontgomery · 10 months
Note
Pregnant BAU Reader goes into labor and panics about the child not having a father, but then realises Hotch is right there with them making it feel OK.
Basically reader realising their boss will be the closest thing their kid has to a dad and how lucky the kid is to have that. Can be platonic or romantic 🥰 💝
Always There
Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, nervous reader, Hotch being a sweetheart 🥹🫶, if I missed any please let me know!
Word count: 1k
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x pregnant!bau!reader
A/n: Yes yes 🥹🥹. I love this so much and I loved writing it!! I hope it is to your satisfaction and that you enjoy it<3. This was not proofread so I apologise if there are any mistakes!
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssamorganhotchner
Going into labour three weeks before your due date wasn't really part of the plan and you'd been so busy with work that you hadn't really considered the possibility. Though Hotch had apparently taken this into consideration because a number of weeks ago he'd assigned you to desk work only. You hadn't even been able to travel with the team.
Going into labour was already scary enough on its own. But what made it worse was that your baby's father was not in the picture whatsoever and not having someone you know and feel safe with during this experience scared you even more. It terrified you if you were being completely honest with yourself.
You're sitting at your desk when everything starts and you don't know what to do. Well, you know what to do but in the moment everything flies out of your head and now you're starting to go into panic mode. You hadn't even realised JJ and Spencer saw what was happening or when JJ appeared at your side as Reid went to get Hotch.
Then you hear Aaron saying your name as you hold your hand on your stomach. Looking up at him from your seated position he's looking at you with concern. "Y/n? Hey we've gotta get you to the hospital, okay?" His hand is on your shoulder.
"Hotch, I'm scared. I- I can't do this by myself. I always thought I could, but I can't-"
"Y/n, you're not alone, okay? I'll be there if you'd like that. The team is here for you too." He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Of course he would be there.
He was always there. He always helped you. Especially when you announced your pregnancy. He helped you set up your nursery. Putting the crib together. Painting the walls. Putting the new furniture in the room. He helped put your hospital bag together. He was always there for you whenever you were feeling scared or anxious about anything but especially the pregnancy. He was just there. So you shouldn't be surprised that he wants to be there for you through this part of it too.
He's already been such a father figure to your child and they haven't even been born yet.
There's always been some sort of romantic aura surrounding your relationship with him but nothing had ever happened. You were pretty sure it was because Aaron didn't want to overstep, but you weren't really sure. Whatever was there, you both knew it. You just never had a conversation about it. Although now isn't really the time to have that talk.
"I'd like that. Please." You have a pleading look in your eyes Aaron gives you a small smile. He tries to hug you as best as he can considering the obstacle your bump has created.
Before you know it you're being rushed to the hospital.
A number of hours go by and in true Aaron fashion, he was with you for it all. He did his best to keep you calm and comfortable given the situation. Honestly, anything he did helped you quite a bit. You know if he hadn't been there you'd have been a wreck but having Aaron with you through it was the best thing you could have asked for and you don't know what you would have done if he wasn't there.
You were holding your baby in your arms for the first time now and it was bringing you so much joy. It felt somewhat surreal. But it was incredible.
Looking up with a grin on your face you're met with the same expression on Aaron's face as he looks at you with your little love.
"May I?" Aaron asks as he holds his arms out. He wants to hold the baby. You knew he did just from the look on his face. You smile even brighter and nod as you both carefully maneuver the tiny human into his huge arms. He's immediately grinning impossibly bigger. He looks just as happy now as he does when he has Jack in his arms.
"Hi little one. You're adorable, you know that? You have so many people here to meet you. They're all excited to welcome you to the BAU family. And your momma, she's wonderful. She loves you so much. She loves you and I know she'll give you everything she's got. And I'll always be here for you too if you're okay with that." Aaron looks like he's got love just pouring out of him as he says all of this to your baby and when he does, you know he means it. You know he already loves this child like his own. He's been there for many of those things. Even going to some of the doctor's appointments with you and holding your hand during them. He kept snacks for you in a specific drawer in his desk just for you.
Everything feels so overwhelming for you, not in a bad way but in the best way. It brings tears of joy to your eyes and Hotch notices immediately, of course he's concerned.
"Are you okay? Can I get you something? Do you want to hold-"
You cut off his questions by shaking your head "No. No, I'm fine. I'm just happy. Hold the baby as long as you want. But I will want my child back before you leave." He chuckles a little and looks back down at the small life in his arms and looks back up at you.
"Why would I leave? I would like to stay, but only if that's okay with you. I want to be here." His voice is soft and genuine. It only makes those tears spill over and stream down your cheeks. All you can manage is a nod as you wipe your tears away.
"What about Jack?"
"He's having a sleepover at Jessica's. And I'm sure he'd like to meet this one." He looks back down at the sleeping baby and you notice that his smile hasn't left once.
You don't know it yet but when he had said he wants to stay he doesn't just mean he wants to stay at the hospital with you. He means he wants to stay with you and your little one indefinitely. But that's something you find out later.
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radiant-reid · 10 months
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Pls pls pls cate for Father’s Day write a blurb where Spencer’s daughter calls him by his first name repeatedly after she finds out his name isn’t dada!!! 💖💖💖
this is so adorable, one of my top scenarios with dad!spence
Being the first girl born to a current BAU team member, Madelaine is spoilt by her aunts and uncles who love getting to see her.
One morning when Spencer doesn’t pack lunch, you figure a drive to Quantico and visit of the BAU before going to lunch would be the perfect family outing.
She’s adorably excited in the elevator to the sixth floor, bouncing on her toes in her toddler-sized converse.
She slips your grasp when the elevator doors open, dashing through the thankfully-open glass doors. She first finds Penelope in the kitchen with Morgan, and gets passed between them for hugs.
Then Rossi, Emily, and Hotch, everyone flocking to see her and talk to you. Spencer comes through the doors a moment later, immediately getting her attention. She runs over to him with her adorable toddler toddle and flings her arms around his legs before he can pick her up.
“Spencer!” She squeals into his pant leg, but it’s loud enough that everyone hears it and frowns.
“Lainey.” He tuts, picking her up and resting her on his hip.
“What, Spencer?” She repeats, addressing him by his first name. It’s much clearer that time and makes the whole team, and you, try to stifle your laughter.
He kisses her on the forehead before reminding her. “You can’t call me that.”
“But your name is Spencer, Spencer.” She defies, mischief playing in her eyes. It’s impossible not to laugh when she looks so adorable but adults finding it amusing spures her on.
“But you’re my baby so you have to call me dadda.” He informs her, trying to use his best stern dad voice.
“This has been going on for a week.” You explain to the team with an amused smile. You wish they could have seen Spencer’s mouth nearly hitting the ground the first time she called him by his name. You’re not even sure where she got it from since he’s always baby or honey to you. It does feel like his karma for teaching her how to say ‘daddy’ as her first word.
Madelaine pouts when she hears what he said, crossing her arms over her chest sassily. “I am not a baby.”
Spencer raises his eyebrows. “Well big girls call their dad’s dadda so….”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Spencer.”
He sighs dramatically, resorting to his last tactic. “Okay, call me dadda and you can have chocolate at home.” He promises.
You hit him on the arm, jokingly appalled at his bribery. “Spencer Reid, don’t bribe her.” You scold playfully.
Madelaine grins at you, a clear sign she’s up to no good before looking back at Spencer. “Yeah, Spencer Reid.”
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