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#soft hotch IS MY MAN
masterwords · 1 year
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2x02 - P911
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ssaaaronmontgomery · 10 months
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ACTUAL FOOTAGE OF THE TWO OF US BOTHERING HOTCH WHEN HE’S AWAY AND WE’RE FACETIMING HIM FOR NO GOOD REASON
BAHAHAHA ROME YES YES.
He loves us so so much but he literally can't deal with our shit sometimes lmfao. But us doing this makes him laugh and smile because he MISSES US and our funny little (big) personalities 🤭. Facetiming him because we miss him and he thinks we're calling because of an emergency but really it's just us annoying our poor old man because we love him and miss his cute self 🤭🥹. I feel like we'd be like this but when it's time for him to leave the video call we are sad like "🥺🥺 okay a-a-ron 😔😔 we'll see you in a few days :( :( bye 🥺🥺🫶🫶😚😚" and we UNINTENTIONALLY make him a little sad too 🥺. BUT IT'S ALL OKAY because he comes home to us and we all end up in a huge hug pile🤭🤭. Just hugs for so so long<3333. (Among other things after hugs lmfao) but he loves when we randomly call him (even if it's not always at the most convenient time) and say/do stupid shit. Or seeing our random videos and photos in our gc. Or the two of us having a conversation he doesn't really need to be included in but we're still using the gc because WE CAN. Blowing up his phone with stupid things he'd find annoying from anyone else but adores and loves when it's coming from us 🤭.
Rome ily feel free to send me things like this whenever you want 🤭🫶.
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 days
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Hi fawn 🏞️ what do you think bau!reaction would be to early spencer reid having a really hot girlfriend when they come to his house for some reason and a girl comes to answer the door with a robe and messy hair?
There’s an incessant knocking at Spencer’s front door but the man is sound asleep beside you.
His eyelashes look soft and pretty like the rest of him and you fight hard not to brush a finger against the crush of them.
You can also see some of the marks you’d left on him the night before- purple mottling bruises along his collarbones and chest that make you smile.
Taking pity on him, you kiss his brown one and slip into one of his old shirts and shove your feet into slippers before padding out to the front door.
On the other side of the door you can make out talking, “Wonder if he’s okay?” You hear a girl say and then, “It’s Spencer, he can hold his own.” Says a male one and then there’s another male voice that says, “If he doesn’t open this door in the next second I’m kicking it in Garcia.”
So you open it, using half of the door to block your body from view.
“Morning, can I help you?” You’re vaguely aware of the fact that there’s four FBI looking agents standing before you while you’re just wearing your boyfriend’s discarded shirt and you want to flush but what can you do- it’s hardly even eight o’clock.
“Yes you can,” says a bald man, Morgan you assume from Spencer’s recounts of his friends. “Where’s Spencer, sweetheart?”
You frown, “Asleep. Do you need him for work?”
A girl in a bright orange skirt shakes her head, “Oh you’re gorgeous! Hi I’m Penelope, that’s Derek, there’s JJ, Hotch.” The man named Hotch clears his throat, giving you a tiny smile.
“We do sorry. Can you get him?” He asks politely and you nod, eyeing them all a little. They’re all looking at you like you’ve grown three heads, a mixture of shock (from Penelope and JJ), pride (from Derek) and something akin to knowing on Hotch’s face.
You’re about to shut the door to get your boyfriend when you feel him right behind you. “Spence, your friends are here,”
Derek whistles and you catch sight of the marks visible on your boyfriend and you feel a little embarrassed. “Okay pretty boy, I see you!” JJ smacks Derek who groans and laughs a little.
He kisses the crown of your head, “Sorry, angel.” He whispers, still knuckling sleep from his eyes. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.” He says to his team who all nod.
“We’re in the SUV.” Hotch says, Penelope nods, giving you a bright smile.
“It was so nice to meet you! We have to go for drinks sometime!”
JJ laughs, “It was nice to meet you.” You nod, a little smile on your face.
Derek claps Spencer on his shoulder and gives you a nod before Spencer closes the door, you can just faintly make out, “Spencer’s got game!” As it shuts.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know they’d show up at my door.” Spencer says softly and you shrug.
“That’s your job Spence, it’s unpredictable. Can we squeeze coffee into those twenty minutes?” Spencer smiles, all tired and lovely.
“Yeah I can, let me shower first and I’ll be down for five minutes of morning coffee.”
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ithebookhoarder · 4 months
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(BAU Headcanons) If you fell asleep on them
A/N: So... guess who fell into another fandom? I blame everyone on here and their amazing fics for convincing me I need to give this show and wonderful cast a chance. I may have binged 13 seasons in like a month... oops? I'm also looking at my fav BAU bunch here but I'm open to writing for other characters from the show
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Aaron Hotchner
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Just like some of the other members of his team, Hotch has a hard exterior that very few people manage to crack through. 
If you and he are in a relationship then I can bet you’ve already had to chip away at it, so you’re already pretty intimate with one another. Falling asleep on him is nothing to bat an eyelid at. If anything, he would welcome the opportunity to relax and hold you close to him.  
It also gives him an excuse to steal a few moments of sleep himself, not daring to move and wake you from your rest. 
He loves holding you close, letting himself listen to the steady beating of you heart as it gently lulls him to become calm enough to shut his eyes. 
However, if you weren’t in a relationship or if it happened in front of the others at the BAU then you know he’d immediately react by saying something about ‘work place conduct’. 
However, he’s clearly saying it for the sake of it as he’d make no effort to wake you or remove you from him. 
In fact, he makes sure to stay still and let you rest peacefully, making sure your neck isn’t bent so you don’t wake up in pain. 
He’d also make sure to lay his jacket over the top of you, a clear sign that you are not to be disturbed - under pain of death. 
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David Rossi 
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Rossi would be the first to complain if you ever fell asleep on him but it’s all good natured. In fact, he only ever complains about it to you after you’ve woken up and only as a joke between the two of you.
“What am I? Just a pillow to you? Are you trying to say my cooking has made me plump?” 
It’s hard to resist his charming smile, especially when he actually is rather comfortable to lean on. His expensive shirts are always soft to the touch, and the cologne you’d brought him last Christmas lingers as you nestle in close. 
He always make you feel safe, and that is an honour greater than any he’d ever been awarded. 
If it happened in front of the others you know he’d roll his eyes and mutter about the cheek of it all. However, his smile would be enough to tell the others he didn’t mean it. 
“I started reading my manuscript and this is what happens… guess that’s one way to leave a review.” 
He’d be sure to shoot daggers with his eyes at anyone else nearby who looked like they would wake you up. 
He’d also shoot down any possible jokes being made at your expense, his parental nature coming out in full force. 
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Derek Morgan
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This boy would be so smug if you ever fell asleep on him. Like, if you imagine a Labrador’s tail wagging with one of those big dopey grins, then that’s what he is. 
He is keen to try and capture the moment with a picture, setting it as his phone background to prove to himself it really happened. 
If it happens in front of the rest of the team then you know he is going to keep reminding you and everyone else whenever he gets the chance. 
However, you know that for all the bragging and teasing Morgan is actually super touched by the fact you fell asleep on him and he is keen to offer you a place to lay your head whenever you look like you need to take a beat. 
He even has a blanket and pillow in his go-bag especially for you. 
“Only the best for you, hot stuff.” 
He will never complain about it and - considering how much torture and pain we know this man can endure - he is more than capable of handling any cramp or pins and needles he gets as a result of you lying against him. 
Eventually, he would take the opportunity to try and sleep as well. With his job and his manic lifestyle, if he gets the chance to close his eyes he knows better than to waste it. 
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Emily Prentiss
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She would be shocked at first, especially if it’s early-on in your relationship. She isn’t really used to public displays of affection and you sleeping with your head on her shoulder is pretty public. 
She would stay as still as possible, though, scared of disturbing you or ruining the moment. She’d also probably be panicking internally, unsure what she was supposed to do. 
However, she soon takes a breath and relaxes. After all, you look so cute when you’re asleep and she is honoured you feel comfortable enough to relax around her like this. 
She doesn’t often get the chance to just sit and be peaceful so she savours the moment you’ve given her. 
She’d end up watching you for a while before relaxing and trying to adjust you so that you’re both comfortable. 
She would also take the opportunity to be affectionate, loving that she can run her hands through your hair and kiss your head without any fear of being embarrassed or rejected. 
After all, we know Emily has a soft centre underneath her tough, bad-ass exterior. She just needs to know she is able to express it. 
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JJ
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JJ is such a mom to everyone including you, so is over the moon the first time you fall asleep on her. She welcomes it with open arms, happy to melt into the embrace. 
It doesn’t matter if you’ve been together long or not, or if you’re in public. Either way, it feels like a personal badge of honour to be trusted in such a way, whether or not you meant to do it. 
She has enough patience not to move a muscle in case she disturbs you and ruins the moment. She knows that if you fell asleep like this then you probably need the rest. 
JJ would totally form a blanket cocoon around you to keep you warm and toasty as you sleep, wrapping her arms around you and cradling you close.
She’d smile the whole time, pressing kisses to the crown of your head and gently murmuring in your ear whenever you seem to stir. 
“Ssssh, Sleepyhead. It’s ok. I got you. Go back to sleep, honey.”   
If it was just the two of you then she’d be sure to try and move you somewhere more comfortable after a while, like the sofa or your bed. 
However, if you were in public then she would turn into a full mama bear and threaten anyone who came close or tried to disturb you. She has that angry mom look down to a fine art and has made grown men wither with it.
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Penelope Garcia 
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This beautiful baby angel would be so delighted if you fell asleep against her that she’d probably wake you up by accident after squealing a little too loudly. 
“Oh, oh, sorry. Sorry! Go back to sleep. I’m staying as still as a statue, you precious angel, I promise. So you just close your eyes and let me hold you.”
She’d probably manage like five minutes before she moves again and wakes you up, but it was enough time for her to steal a few private photos to commemorate the moment. 
They will most definitely be the background on her computer the following morning, and possibly yours too.
She would also be sure to make sure she has a blanket and pillow stashed away for you if you ever felt like taking an impromptu nap again when you weren’t at home. 
If you worked at the BAU they’d be kept in her lair - or your private napping room, as she tells you. 
They’d also be brightly coloured and super soft, chosen specifically by Penelope to make you as comfortable and as happy as possible, even whilst at the government building. 
“Just so you know, I gave them a spritz with this gorgeous lavender mist spray to help you knock right out the moment your pretty head hits the pillow. So, sweet dreams honeybun.” 
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Dr Spencer Reid
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Spencer is a precious boy and would be utterly baffled at first if he looked down and realised you had fallen asleep on him. 
He would be surprised he hadn’t noticed you drooping against him sooner, or that your breathing had slowed as you fell asleep. 
At first he thinks it must be a mistake, immediately trying to ease you off of him. After all, he wasn’t the most comfortable person to sleep on and people are far more likely to find his company irksome rather than soothing. 
However, after you start doing it more often he realises that isn’t the case. 
In fact, he feels rather proud that you’ve got the point in your relationship where you aren’t afraid to relax around him. 
He also learns how not to let it over-stimulate him. It takes some time to train his mind to not think about the possible pathogens that could be passing between you or the way your hair tickles his face. He’s also able to talk to you about positions to curl up in if you ever want to sleep against him again, that he feels more relaxed in. 
He’d also totally be happy to tell you all about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is, knowing the sound of his voice helps you settle better than any lullaby. 
Masterlist
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luveline · 8 months
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WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer
ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k
Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 
But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 
You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 
"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 
For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 
Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 
Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 
"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 
Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 
"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 
"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 
"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 
Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 
"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.
You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.
Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 
"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 
Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 
"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 
Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 
You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.
"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 
It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 
Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 
"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 
Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 
"Partner?" Derek asks. 
It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 
You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.
"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 
"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 
"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 
"What took me so long?" you ask.
"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 
"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 
Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"
"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 
Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 
Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"
You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."
Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 
Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 
"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.
"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.
"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 
You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 
"You cannot keep bringing that up." 
"Why not?" 
Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 
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headkiss · 2 months
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hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x
hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff
Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.
Until you.
You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.
Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.
Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.
The others know it, too.
Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.
Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.
“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.
“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”
Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”
Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.
Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”
You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”
“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“
“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”
Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.
“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”
“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.
The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”
He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.
“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”
“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”
“Sure it is.”
When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.
You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.
“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.
Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking
Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.
Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?
"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.
"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"
"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"
Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."
"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"
"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"
"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.
"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.
"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."
"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."
Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.
For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.
Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.
"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.
"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.
"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."
Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."
"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"
He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."
"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."
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greg-montgomery · 1 year
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Please just the team telling r about HOW MUCH OF A SOFT SPOT AARON HAS FOR THEM like god he’s literally such a grouch to Morgan and prentiss but he kisses the ground you walk on and they’re like BESTIE GET A GRIP HES WRAPPED AROJND YOUR FINGER bc reader is convinced he doesn’t share their feelings and he’s just being polite </3
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Guys, please stop. You’re giving me false hope,” you sighed, dropping your hands on your lap. “I know you’re only trying to make me feel better, but honestly this is making me feel worse.”
“False hope? Sweetheart, the man is in love with you,” Derek said.
“No, he’s not.” You pouted.
You regretted ever telling your friends about your crush on Hotch. What you expected was them making fun of you for it. What you got were daily lectures on how your boss had the hots for you.
“He makes you coffee every single morning,” Emily pointed out.
“He’s just being polite!” you argued.
“We arrive here at the same time every day and he has never made one for me.”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” you said. “Maybe he thinks you won’t like it the way he makes it. But he knows I do, so that’s why he only does it for me.”
“Okay…” Derek spoke again. His eyebrow was raised, showing he had a very good point to add. “What about when you got hurt last week? It was only a scratch on your cheek but Hotch was ready to drive you to a hospital.”
“Now you’re exaggerating!”
“I saw him cupping your cheeks, it’s true!” Emily exclaimed.
“I also saw that,” Spencer, who had just been observing the conversation, added.
“You too, Spence?”
“Sorry.” He lifted his hands up in defense. “I’m only pointing out what I saw.”
You crossed your arms against your chest. There was no way you’d let them get to you. If you let your heart believe that Aaron had feelings for you then it would break even harder. “He’s like this with all of us.”
Emily moved close to you and took your hand in hers. “No, he’s not,” she said with a smile. “How can you not see it? He looks at you like you’re his sun and stars.”
“We could have an experiment,” Spencer suggested.
“What kind of experiment?”
“Emily got yelled at yesterday for making a mistake during paperwork,” he explained. “I can see you’re preparing a similar report today so you could make on purpose the same mistake as her. Let’s see if he reacts the same way when he sees it. If he yells at you too then that means he treats you the same way he treats all of us. If he doesn’t…then you’re his soft spot.”
“Fine,” you agreed. “Only so you can all finally stop torturing me with this.”
A few hours later, your report was on Hotch’s desk.
“Y/N?”
You heard your name in that warm voice of his and lifted your head to look at him. He was standing at his office door with a smile, certainly not looking like a man about to start yelling.
“Can you please come to my office for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Walking up the stairs to his office, you could feel the stares of your colleagues. Time to prove them wrong, you thought. Even though, you were secretly praying for the opposite.
“What do you need me for?” you acted naive.
“I was just looking at your report,” he said, sitting down on his chair. “And-”
“Oh no, did I make a mistake?”
“No, it’s nothing important!” he rushed to reassure you. “It’s just some little thing. I only wanted to show you so you know the correct way to do it from now on.”
There was a sweet smile on his face. His voice was soft and not at all angry.
“Come on, let me show you.”
It didn’t feel scary to go close to him. So you did.
It was a bit hard to pay attention to him explaining your mistake, since you were staring at his fingers brushing the paper in front of you. It didn’t matter anyway, your mistake wasn’t an accident at all.
“Okay?” he asked when he was done.
“Okay. I’m really sorry, Hotch,” you said, giving him your best puppy eyes. If you were gonna do this experiment, you were gonna do it right. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”
“Why don’t you come to my office next time you prepare a report like this one? We can do it together, hm?”
“But you’re so busy, I don’t wanna slow you down,” you argued, your heart beating faster and faster as you realized that Aaron wasn’t angry at all with you.
“Nonsense. We’re doing it together next time.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thank you, Hotch.”
Just before you arrived at the door, you heard him calling your name. “Oh and Y/N?”
“Yeah?” you responded, looking back at him.
“The team is right.”
“Right on what?”
He smirked and dropped his gaze back to his papers. “You know what.”
You turned around to exit his office with a huge grin on your face. Sometimes it feels better when you lose.
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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The One Thing You Can't Have
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)
Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.
Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception
A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!
With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.
When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.
You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.
"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.
The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.
"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.
He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.
The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.
"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.
"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.
"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.
You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.
After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.
Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.
There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.
After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.
He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.
It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.
He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.
You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.
“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.
It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.
You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.
“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.
He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.
Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.
To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.
“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.
“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.
“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.
“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.
“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”
“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.
Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.
Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.
So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.
Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.
So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.
“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.
“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.
“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.
“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.
“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.
Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.
“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.
He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.
“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”
And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.
You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.
It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.
He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.
When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.
You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.
The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.
You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.
Derek was going to give him hell.
"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."
"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.
"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.
His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.
He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.
He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.
It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.
The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.
Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.
Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.
The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.
The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.
"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.
"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.
"Y/N, how drunk are you?"
"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.
"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.
"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"
"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.
"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.
"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."
"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.
"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.
He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.
And he had a third pair of your underwear.
He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.
He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.
Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.
It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.
In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.
The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.
You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.
They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.
"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.
You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.
"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.
Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.
"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."
"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.
You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.
"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.
Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.
Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.
He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.
You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.
You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.
"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."
"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.
By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.
Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.
Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.
Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.
You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.
This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.
Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.
You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.
He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.
But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.
Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.
You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.
Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.
The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.
With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.
Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.
His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.
He was screwed.
"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.
Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.
"What did I miss?"
"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."
"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.
"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.
"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.
But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.
But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.
He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.
"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.
You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.
He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.
"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.
"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."
"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.
"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.
For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.
"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.
“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.
“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”
You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.
Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.
When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.
“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.
“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”
“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”
The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.
“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.
He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.
Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.
“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.
“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.
“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.
“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.
“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”
“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”
“Was that a threat, Spencer?”
“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”
“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”
“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.
Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.
When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.
“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”
“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.
“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”
You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.
“Peace offering?”
He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.
“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”
He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.
Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.
“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”
“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.
“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”
“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.
His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.
Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.
You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.
You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.
“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.
“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.
When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up
You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.
“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.
You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.
You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.
“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.
“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”
“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.
You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.
“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”
You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.
Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.
Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.
“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.
There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.
“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.
“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.
“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.
“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.
“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.
“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”
“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.
“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.
“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”
“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”
“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.
“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”
“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.
“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.
You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.
“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.
“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”
“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.
“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.
“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.
“What?”
“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.
“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.
“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Spencer! What are you doing?”
“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”
“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.
“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.
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soulofapatrick · 3 months
Text
Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader
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Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: None; fluffy
Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind
Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.
The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.
His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.
As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.
Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.
I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”
No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.
“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”
“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”
“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.
I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.
Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.
His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.
His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.
His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.
Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.
It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.
I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.
My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.
His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.
I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.
And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.
“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.
“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.
“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”
“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”
“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.
“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”
“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.
“Nothing has to change.”
“Nothing has to change?”
“I promise”
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Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka
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masterwords · 1 year
Text
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What's my worst quality? || 2x15 - Revelations
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What if we don't want a new Unit Chief? || 3x02 - In Name and Blood
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aangell333 · 3 months
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hi<333 can i do like a fluff and smut request for aaron hotchner? a virgin//very innocent reader (18+, ofc) who’s maybe spencer’s sister or something, and she meets aaron and he knows she has a crush on him? super flirty banter and lots of touching until it drives the reader crazy, but she won’t admit that it makes her horny? eventually aaron, who’s always so blunt, asks if she’s horny at that moment, and they have a talk about her wants and needs? maybe daddy issues! reader? obv eventual full smut
idk i’m a sucker for daddy! aaron taken innocent readers virginity
thank u <333
how you managed to land a job at the bau, the behavioural analysis unit, at the f-b-fucking-i is beyond you. you’d answered an ad, filled out a form, did a quick interview and boom. you’d been appointed to a team.
granted, it was only as an assistant, most likely running the team’s coffees, but still. that’s running coffees for the fbi. how many people can say they do that for a living?
you walked in on your first day a bundle of nerves. you’d chosen your cutest-but-still-work-appropriate outfit and genuinely tried to walk in with your head held high. but the whispers and mutters that followed you through the bullpen left you more nervous than you’d started. willing yourself not to run, you sped up your pace slightly and trotted up the stairs that lead you to your new boss’s office.
you knocked on the door quickly, trying to soothe your racing heart.
“come in.” a deep voice called you, commanding and loud. you cracked the door open and stood awkwardly at the threshold. your eyes widened as you took in the scene.
the man that sat before you was nothing you’d ever seen before. it was as if he’d been crafted from the purest marble sent by the gods, chiselled away at by the most experienced and meticulous hands. he was incredible, deep, black eyes that matched the neat hair on his head, the quirk of his questioning eyebrow as you gawked at him.
“m-mr- detective hotchner. I’m y/n y/l/n, your new assistant?” you squeaked out, trying not to cringe at how shaky and scared you sounded. his face cleared, like ripples calming on a pond, leaving it smooth and glassy. like a pond who’s lips you wanted to capture on yours and-
“ah, of course! come on in and take a seat,” he rose from his desk and held his hand out with a soft smile.
your feet moved of their own accord, moving you closer to the beautiful man as you placed your hand in his. his other hand came up to clasp yours as they shook, yours disappearing beneath his. once he released your hand, you both sat down at the same time. the guest chair situated at his desk was slightly uncomfortable and you tried not to squirm in the plastic.
“would you like a tea? coffee?” he asked you, closing the manila folder on his desk and tucking it away.
“I feel like I should be asking you that,” you joked with an airy laugh and you tried to fight the swoon that threatened you at the sound of his own chuckle.
“don’t worry about that just yet. let’s get you acquainted before we start rushing you off your feet,” he said with a quick smile.
the two of you then started discussing your boundaries. what you were willing to do, what you’re a little more less experienced in doing. he assured you multiple times that you would be kept well away from any unsubs, no matter who requested what of you.
“I don’t want you in any danger, y/n. it is my responsibility to keep you safe.” he’d said in a serious tone, making himself clear to you.
a week later, you found yourself in an nypd precinct, listening to the detectives spitball theories. you were perched on a spinny desk stool offered by mr hotchner - having not yet got past addressing him as his formal name, no matter how many times he insisted you call him hotch - as he perched on the desk behind you. his hands gripped the edges of the desk, knuckles ever so gently brushing your back each time you squirmed in your seat.
“…targeting women much like this young lady here,” you flushed as the captain of the precinct gestured a hand towards you. he chuckled and winked at mr hotchner above you. “better keep your assistant safe, detective hotchner.”
he went on to give more details of the case to his team, but you couldn’t listen. your breath was caught in your chest and anxiety curled itself into your chest.
“hey, hey, it’s ok.” mr hotchner mumbled from above you, leaning down slightly towards your ear. you felt his knuckles gently skimming up and down your back. the action calmed you slightly and you leaned into his touch. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
the words made you swoon… and strangely… made your core clench? a frown briefly furrowed your brow and you wondered what caused such a reaction down there. you had rarely felt anything down there apart from pain during your period, and you hadn’t felt such a… tingly feeling since your teenage years.
the captain dismissed his team and he and the rest of the bau came over to you and mr hotchner. their appearance made him sit back up and move his hand back to gripping the edge of the desk.
“so, what’s the move, hotch?” derek asked, folding his arms and adjusting his stance.
mr hotchner hummed and frowned, bringing a hand up to his mouth. you gently rolled your chair to the side a little so that you weren’t in the way, not liking how the attention on him made you feel out of place. mr hotchner began reeling off his plan, giving jobs out to the members of his team. his tone was commanding and firm, leaving no room for argument as the team started their investigation for the case.
“..and, y/n, could you collect some menus from restaurants in the area for us all to look over so we can decide on a place for dinner?” he asked you, his voice significantly softer and kinder with a gentle hand on your shoulder. you nodded and gathered your things, heading over to the briefing room where the team had set up.
throughout the day, you couldn’t shake that ache and tingle in your core. you lay back on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling above you with your hands folded on your stomach. your core was throbbing by now, begging for… you didn’t know what for. but it throbbed. and ached.
you’d never… done anything down there. never touched it or had it touched. back in high school, your friends would always tell you about their sex lives and who they were sleeping with. but you were always too… shy. too nervous to do any of that. so you stuck to yourself, no matter how people teased you for being a virgin. and you had always had that in the back of your mind whenever anyone had tried to initiate anything with you. how inexperienced you were. how you didn’t know what you were doing. so you’d stop it all entirely. and that’s how you ended up here, 26 and not once touched.
maybe mr hotchner wouldn’t mind… you found yourself thinking. you often found yourself thinking of what mr hotchner thought of you. if he liked you at all. you were pretty sure he did, he was very nice to you and gentler with you than he was with everyone else. he was almost like a father to the group…
he was more of a father than your own was. your father came and went from your home as he pleased, leaving you to care for your sick mother yourself. and when he was home… it wasn’t very pretty. you cringed at the amount of times you had to pick your own bedroom lock after he’d left again so that you could tend to your mother. you were scared of your father, knowing he could find you whenever he wanted to find you. the thought made you sick to your stomach.
you huffed and shifted onto your side, pushing the duvet off of you. your eyes drifted to the digital clock you’d brought with you, 12:46. not great considering you had to be up at 6am the next day. but sleep seemed like a foreign mystery to you at that time, so you decided a cold shower would help shake this unusual feeling from your core. so that’s what you did, kicking the duvet away and padding over to the en-suite.
you sat in the briefing room of the precinct slightly dazed the next day. you’d slept in by accident, and the sound of derek banging on your door was what woke you up. at 6:57am.
mr hotchner sat beside you as he watched the captain at the front of the room, describing his theories. your tired gaze was fixed on the pot of pens in the middle of the table as you zoned everything out. the strange tingly feeling was back in your core, poking at your entrance. it had started when you were making coffees for everyone and mr hotchner had leaned over you from behind to grab you the pot of sugar you couldn’t reach, his hand placed gently on your waist. the interaction had left you breathless and… throbbing. you squirmed in your seat and pressed your thighs together, praying it would go away.
you screwed your eyes tight shut and opened them again, your eyes flitting to the movement you saw in the corner of them. mr hotchner had his hands folded on the table, wringing them together. his knuckles and fingers flexed, the veins in the back of his hands popping. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his pale forearms and the large vein that struck out there. you blinked your eyes hard again, not understanding why this only increased the ache in your core and made your hole clench up tight.
your attention was drawn back to the room as everybody began rising from the table, heading to do their tasks for the day. you followed, grabbing leftover books and folders. a hand encircled your upper arm and you came face to face with jj giving you a soft smile. the door clicked behind derek, leaving you and jj alone in the room.
you liked jj. she was a lovely girl. the two of you had quickly become close and she was the first one - besides mr hotchner - to ask you to run an errand that wasn’t coffee. the two of you often gossiped with penelope garcia and sometimes elle greenaway too, the girls more of them than not sharing their ‘sex-capades’ as penelope likes to call it. jj was one of the first to really trust you.
“hey, sit down for me,” she said, sitting in the seat beside you and retracting her hand. you sat down too, following her actions mutely. “you ok? you’ve been a little… out of it. hotch asked me to talk to you.”
you cringed a little at that, not liking how mr hotchner had acknowledged your not-all-there-ness.
“I-I’m fine. I just… dunno. things have been a bit… different lately.” you said, folding your legs and pressing your hands together.
“different?”
“yeah. I just… you know you were telling me about that guy you met. the one who… slept over at your house.” jj chuckled a little at your euphemism but nodded.
“yes, I remember. why, has a guy slept over at your house recently?” excitement gleamed in her eye a little but you quickly shook your head.
“nono! no… but… you remember you said you felt… achey down there? the good achey.” you said and jj slowly nodded.
“well… i’ve just been… feeling that. and… I don’t know what to do about it.” you mumbled. “and… I don’t wanna… touch myself-“ your voice dropped to a whisper and you cleared your throat “-but… it needs to stop.”
jj chuckled a little.
“okaaay, well. do you know what caused it?”
you hesitated before nodding quickly but stayed mute.
“do you… wanna tell me?”
you shook your head quickly.
“right. well. whatever or whoever has turned you on-“ you cringed “-is most likely what will help to get rid of it. and yes, y/n, that means sex.” she chuckled fondly at the way you cringed again. she stood up, placed a hand on your shoulder and kissed your temple lightly. “you’ll be fine, y/n/n. I believe in you.”
and with that, she left the briefing room.
for the rest of the week, the tingle mostly stayed with you. on the jet back to quantico, you sat at the very back, thighs pressed firmly together and head fuzzy. your eyes stared straight ahead but were unseeing and your plush lips were parted but soundless.
your eyes flickered over to the movement in the corner of your eye, catching mr hotchner as he stepped out of the bathroom while shaking his hands to rid them of the lingering water droplets. his eyes met yours and he sent you a quick, fond wink with a smile. you swooned internally at his large presence, wanting nothing but for the older man to swoop you up and-
you stopped yourself and looked away before your thoughts could become any more explicit.
your eyes widened as you realised mr hotchner was walking towards you. he wore a kind smile as he took the seat beside you and placed a hand on your forearm. he gently unclasped your hands as you anxiously wrung them together and moved the one nearest to him to the armrest that separated his and your seats, his large fingers softly encircling your wrist.
“hey, did jj talk to you?” he asked you, voice politely low to keep your conversation private. you could only dumbly nod your head, eyes lost in his. “good, good. is everything ok?”
you actually swooned slightly this time at his protectiveness but managed to force your voice out of your throat.
“u-uh- yeah. I’m fine just… bit of a strange week,” you were glad mr hotchner took your words the way he did, assuming you meant ‘strange’ in regards to this being your first case.
“I agree,” he chuckled. “and an awful unsub to be your first, please understand that not everyone in the world is like that.”
you giggled in response.
“do you need me to grab you anything, sir?” you asked him, wondering why he was taking an interest in your well-being; no older male had ever done that for you. his brow furrowed.
“no, no, I was checking if you’re ok. the health of my team is important to me. you’re important to me, y/n.” his face was full of sincerity as he spoke and his eyes twinkled. your own eyes, on the other hand, threatened to fill with tears as a ball settled in your chest. your throat was suddenly raw and your head ached.
“oh…” was all you could force out.
“y/n, are you ok?” you nodded quickly and bolted to the bathroom, stumbling down the aisle of the jet.
in the toilet, you could feel your breath shortening rapidly. he cared about you. no man had ever said such words to you, and if they had, it was never to your face. but for some reason, you panties felt… sticky. and that familiar ache settled in your core. you tried to muffle your whine of desperation as the feeling returned, desperately trying to figure out just why you were feeling distraught and… turned on, as jj had called it.
once the jet landed, you grabbed your bag from the overhead locker and hurried inside of the bau building to dump everything at your desk. you sat in your desk chair and took a big sigh. mr hotchner had asked you to stay a while in case the team needed anything, so you did just that.
you checked the time on the big clock opposite your desk. 5:34pm. nice, not too late. mr hotchner said the team didn’t take long to debrief after a case, unless fbi time and civilian time worked differently.
which you assumed it did, because the team didn’t leave the briefing room until 6:15. you had pages and pages of notes that mr hotchner had asked you to take.
your distress had passed now, but that ache was refusing to leave. you sat back at your desk and huffed, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to shift the tension elsewhere.
from the desk near yours, derek shot you a quirked brow.
“you ok there, sweet girl?” he asked and you couldn’t help but flush at the nickname.
“I told you not to call me that.” was all you could mumble as you dumped your notepad in your drawer. derek grinned and pushed his chair over, leaning his beefy forearms on the desk.
“why? cuz it makes you all flustered?” he teased. you sat back in your chair and huffed.
“normally, it’s a compliment. but I’m not really in the mood for compliments right now.” you sighed, pushing a bouncy ball penelope had given you around your desk. you gently flicked it to him and he stopped it with his fingers before flicking it back. the two of you played the little game of rolling the ball between each other as you talked.
“why? cuz you all frustrated?” he smirked and you frowned, still not lifting your eyes to his.
“I’m not frustrated, I’m just… flat.” you said and he chuckled.
“no, no, I mean… sexually frustrated.” you blushed a deeper red at his words and sat up straight in your chair.
“I-I am not! shush!” you scooped the ball up in your fingers and bounced it against his forehead. he flinched slightly and chuckled with a grin.
“come on, the whole bau can see you got it bad for hotch. we’re behavioural analysts. and, if it helps, he’s got it bad for you too.” he winked at you and bounced the ball across the desk to you.
“no he doesn’t.” you grumbled as you swung your chair side-to-side slightly. derek chuckled again and rolled his eyes.
“whatever you say, sweet girl,” he grinned, winking again before he rolled his chair back to his desk. you frowned, easily seeing that he didn’t believe you.
eventually, people began drifting home. penelope was the first to leave, humming a tune and loudly calling goodbye as she went. then it was jj, and then derek. gideon left soon after, quickly followed by elle, leaving you and spencer in the bullpen.
mr hotchner was tucked away in his office working on some paperwork. he had come down a few times while the team were dispersing to refill his mug and grab a snack. his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his tie loosened. his forearms were on display, that one vein running down making your head foggy.
at one point, as the temperature in the bullpen dropped as the night went on, he had noticed your shivering and draped his blazer around you. he had stood over you with a fond smile as he helped you slip your arms into the blazer. your cheeks had flushed red and you were unable to tear your eyes from his. once he’d walked off, spencer had thrown you a look before quickly looking back to his folder.
the action had once again settled an ache in your core, your entrance clenching tight as his scent invaded your senses. you fought every urge tugging at your nerves to bring the blazer up to your nose and inhale.
“night, y/n,” spencer said with a quick open-handed wave before he clutched his satchel to his stomach and left.
“see ya later, spencer,” you smiled at him as he walked away. the elevator dinged, indicating his descent, leaving you and mr hotchner alone in the building.
you glanced over your shoulder to his office. the blinds were drawn and soft light spilled from beneath the crack of his door. you sighed, fiddling with the hem of his blazer. you sighed and turned back to your computer screen, looking at the game of solitaire you were playing to distract yourself from your throbbing and wet core. you glanced at the clock on the bottom of your screen, 9:54pm. damn… a few minutes later, mr hotchner’s door opened and his footsteps descended the stairs.
“spencer went home?” he asked. you hummed in response, tearing your eyes away from the cards automatically flitting up to their correct spaces and giving him a smile. mr hotchner smiled as he saw your screen. “nice game.”
“thanks, beat my record.” you suddenly blushed. “sorry, I shouldn’t be playing games on company time.”
“that’s quite alright.” mr hotchner said with a smile, leaning on the edge of your desk and folding his arms. “you don’t have any tasks to do.”
you would’ve nodded, if you weren’t too distracted by the sight of his arms almost right in front of your face. you shifted in your seat as your core throbbed with heat and your mouth suddenly filled with saliva.
“y/n?…” the sound of mr hotchner’s deep voice calling you back to reality snapped you from your trance.
“I-I’m sorry- I- I was distracted-“ “y/n, are you horny right now?”
your mind blanked. you stared at his face with a surprised expression, your brows raised and lips parted. you couldn’t think, only embarrassment coiling in your chest.
“I-…” you trailed off, not finding the words to answer your boss’s such blunt question. your core ached again, however, and you could feel wetness gush into your panties. his fingertips gently grasped your jaw and he leaned down to you a little.
“I asked you a question, y/n,” he commanded with a slight smirk, clearly enjoying the power imbalance between the two of you. you swallowed and tried to fight the feeling of your eyes glazing over. “are. you. horny?”
“I am.” your voice came out in a whisper.
“what was that? I’m gonna need you to speak up, sweetheart.”
“I am. I-I’m horny, sir,” mr hotchner’s smirk grew at your words and his fingers caressed your jaw.
“good girl! using her big girl words.” you lapped up the praise tumbling from his lips and subconsciously shuffled closer. he chuckled at this. “so eager. you want your big boss to help you?”
“please…” your hand came up to hold his wrist as he squished your cheeks in one big hand and gently tilted your head up a little further. he hummed in faux sympathy before chuckling.
“come to my office. i’m going to sit down and you’re going to lock the door and close the blinds.” his hand moved to cup your cheek before he went to sit behind his desk.
you scrambled to fulfill his order, hurrying quickly after him. you stood at the door, fingers fumbling around the lock before darting to pull at the blinds. the warmth between your legs was now hot and poking at your untouched hole.
“sit.” mr hotchner ordered, gesturing to the seat before his desk. you did so, pressing yourself into the plush cushions. “now. let’s talk about what you’re comfortable with before we start. what kind of things are you into?”
your mind blanked.
how did you know what you were into if you’ve never done anything?…
HERE YOU GO SORRY ITS SO LATE!!!
PART TWO WILL BE LINKED HERE 🩷🩷
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awritessomething · 3 months
Note
Okay so Aaron Hotchner x inexperienced reader.
When they’re like full on making out reader gets flustered and tells Aaron she could never make her finish. And then Aaron is like “okay honey, show me what you do” and then after some very flushed minute reader shows him and she gets frustrated and he helps. ☺️☺️Aaron is everything
I’m in love with this idea.
𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | aaron hotchner x fem!reader
requests
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Aaron and his girlfriend were about to get to third base when he heard some shocking news. Of course, he helps out however he can.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, pre-established relationship, virgin!reader, soft!dom hotch, age gap (not brought up), praise, pet names (honey, baby, gorgeous), fem masturbation, multiple orgasms, oral f!receiving, use of Y/N, aftercare
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Aaron Hotchner was known for being a man who just knew a lot. There wasn’t much of anything that he was exactly bad at. That included kissing. Because of his age, some people might think that he would see make out sessions possibly as immature, but he did not. Not in the slightest.
Aaron was laid on his bed with his girlfriend, his hands cupping her face as they were making out. Her hands were in his hair, tugging at the dark locks. Aaron groaned against her lips and one of his hands went to her back. He flipped them so he was laying on top of her.
His hands went to move lower and tug off his belt and then her shorts, but she grabbed his wrist. They pulled away from the kiss and Aaron’s eyes widened slightly, wondering if he had done anything wrong.
“Are you alright?” He asked her softly. She nodded.
“Sorry, I just.. I don’t know how to say it.” She frowned as she looked up at him. He got off of her and sat down so he could listen more intently. His eyes were locked on hers. “I’ve never been able to… finish before? I just don’t want to do anything with you and have you be sad or something because I couldn’t cum.”
“Oh, honey, that’s fine.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Y/N smiled now, feeling a bit less nervous. “So, no man has been able to do it for you?” He asked, silently cursing any men that his girlfriend had been with in the past who now made her think like this.
“Actually, you’d be my first.” She admitted quietly, looking away in case Aaron got mad at her for not telling him. He didn’t get mad in the slightest. If anything, he was surprised that a gorgeous woman like her hadn’t been laid before.
“You're a virgin?” He asked just to fully confirm it.
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Well, alright. Why don’t you show me how you usually touch yourself, ok?” His words were so bold that she choked on her own spit. Aaron smiled at her surprise.
“Aaron no, I cant it’s-“ she tried to protest, but Aaron cut her off.
“I’m here to help you. Not judge.” Aaron reassured her with a soft kiss on the hand. She took in a deep breath and nodded. “Good girl. If you want me to stop, just tell me.” He whispered as he began to take off her clothes. He started with her top, then moved on down to her shorts.
Her eyes were on him the whole time. Aaron pressed a kiss to her bare abdomen and then pulled off her panties. Y/N watched him wide eyed. The last thing to go was her bra, which he threw aside. Then he leaned back and motioned for her to continue.
“Act like I’m not even here, ok?” He whispered. It was a difficult request, but she promised that she would make it work. Aaron was more experienced than her, she knew he just wanted to help.
Her hand trailed down between her legs, hand shaking slightly. He watched her silently as she put her hand onto her usual area and began to rub at the bundle of nerves. Her movements were messy and uncontrolled. She didn’t have any sort of buildup either, she just immediately went to full speed.
Aarons brows knit together as he stayed quiet for a while longer, just watching as she desperately tried to get herself off. Her legs were shaking and her bottom lip was pulled under her top teeth from frustration.
His cock stirred in his pants as he watched his girlfriend begin to get more and more frustrated. Her movements only got messier as the time went on as her hands got more tired. She kept up the same quick pace the whole time. Eventually, she whined out in defeat.
“Its ok, baby.” He whispered. Aaron went back over to her and now sat behind her, pulling her so she was sitting between his legs. He used his own legs to pin hers open. “Gimme your hand.” Aaron said softly but also quite firmly. She nodded and put out her hand for him. He positioned his hand over hers and took two of her fingers under his.
“What are you doing?” Y/N whispered, looking over her shoulder to try and see him. He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Guiding you, honey.” Aaron told her with a small smile. She couldn’t argue with that. She got more comfortable against him and just let him guide her fingers. “Start off slow, ok? Just get the feel of it.” He gave her instructions right into her ear. She shivered against him from the feeling of his breath on her skin.
His fingers guided hers as she touched herself again. Everything felt a bit better with the warmth of his body added onto it. Y/N silently cursed herself for letting this happen. She knew that once Aaron made her cum — which he undoubtedly would — she would never be able to get that same feeling again.
The pace started off slow as he had said. She got the feel of it with his fingers against hers. His grip on her hand stopped her from shaking so much and it helped her calm down. She closed her eyes just for a split second.
“Eyes open, gorgeous. You need to see what to do.” Aaron demanded. She did exactly as he said. Her fingers danced over the bundle of nerves, circling it. He kept his eyes on her to see what made her feel the best. He experimented with different shapes. Circles, stars, triangles, letters, anything. The starts seemed to work the best for her.
Her breathing had sped up. She was already squirming on him, trying to get him to just take control. Aaron didn’t give into her wishes though. He continued having her take care of herself. Eventually, he withdrew his hand from hers. She halted her movements immediately.
“Aar-“ she tried to protest.
“Keep going, gorgeous. Let it happen.” He cut her off. She couldn’t protest. Her head fell back onto his chest as she tried to mimic his movements. Aaron kissed her ear and the top of her head, watching as she touched herself.
As expected, it was no where near as good as when Aaron did it. His touch added onto everything and he was also older and more experienced, so it helped.
After a few minutes of that, her legs started shaking. Aaron could recognize the look on her face and also the way she seemed to be trying to get away. His hand pushed down on her abdomen, keeping her still. She fell over the edge with a sharp cry of his name.
“Aaron!” She whimpered and writhed, hiding her face in his arm. Aaron saw her pull away from her folds immediately and his lips pursed.
“Good girl. Lay back for me, ok?” He whispered and slipped out from behind her. She did as he said with no hesitation. She trusted him with her life. She looked at Aaron as he laid between her thighs.
“Wait, Aaron, no. I mean- are you sure?” She stuttered, the palm of her hand pressed against his forehead. He looked at her, unimpressed.
“Relax.” He said firmly. She gave in.
Aaron kissed up her leg, starting around her ankle and going up her thigh. She was panting, still recovering from her first orgasm. She didnt know how she was supposed to experience two in one night. His lips finally reached her more sensitive flesh, kissing along the folds and then up to her clit. Her back arched from the unfamiliar sensation. Aaron put one arm around both of her legs, effectively locking her onto his face.
“Can you- I mean, breathe?” She was already panicking again. Aaron already had his tongue swirling over her, tasting her. He didn’t respond. It didn't take much else to get her to stop talking. Her head fell back in a moan, hands immediately going to Aarons hair, desperately tugging at it. He hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her pulling at his hair.
Everything was far too unfamiliar, too new. Her orgasm was approaching embarrassingly quickly, but neither could complain. It was a miracle to her that she managed to cum so quickly. To Aaron, he was just happy to make his girl feel good.
His tongue continued to circle around her and push into her hole a few more times, tasting her orgasm on his tongue, before he pulled back to kiss her. At the thought of tasting herself, she was disgusted, but when Aarons lips met hers, any protests faded away. She melted into the kiss and he smirked against her lips.
"Are you feeling better?" Aaron muttered against her skin as he started to kiss her neck softly, each brush of his lips full of love.
"Much. Thank you." She whispered and her arms wrapped around him. He smiled and then moved back up to kiss her lips once more. Aaron hooked his arm around her and picked her up. "What are you doing?" She clung to him out of instinct. She knew that Aaron wouldn't drop her.
"Shower?" He offered.
"Well, yeah, but you never... finished."
"I think Ill be alright." He teased lightly. "I needed to prepare you like this anyways. Maybe you'll get it all next time." Unlike most, that 'maybe' meant he was promising it if she wanted. Her cheeks turned a bright red. There was nothing else she could say, but she knew what she was thinking at least. When is next time?
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Text
.⋆。You And Him。⋆.
Aaron Hotchner x plus size reader
Calls from Jack were precious so Hotch was more than okay with you answering them
Warnings: fluff, thoughts on the future
WC: 579
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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There was a certain order of events that always transpired on the jet ride home after a case was done; A round of teas and coffees would be brewed by Rossi (who claimed no one knew how to do it properly), Derek would don a pair of headphones that should have been thrown out years ago and play obnoxiously loud music, JJ would take a much-deserved nap, Emily had a habit of reading cheesy romance novels while Spencer played chess against himself. And Hotch called home.
Hearing his boy’s voice or even just his breathing while he slept, calmed his anxiety down to almost nothing. It soothed him more than he could ever say out loud.
A smile pulled at his lips as Aaron’s phone lit up with his former sister-in-law’s name. He didn’t even bother glancing around the cabin to check if anyone was watching as he answered the call.
“Hey buddy.” The typical heavy breathing of a child filled his ears before there was a soft hiccup.
“Hi dad.” Hotch’s brow scrunched in concern and pressed the device closer to his skin, as if he could impart some comfort onto his son through the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Across the table from him, your eyes snapped up from your report, your attention now solely focused on him.
“Is um, is Y/N there?” Immediately, Aaron sagged into the airplane seat, his smile returning tenfold. Your relationship was fresh, still filled with the anxiety and excitement of firsts as you explored each other. You were infinitely nervous when he had finally introduced you to Jack as his girlfriend and not just the colleague you had been before.
But just like he knew you would, you and his son were thick as thieves and evidently, that carried over into when you were away for work. “Yeah buddy, she’s sitting right in front of me.” Your breath hitched and he knew that heat was now crawling up your neck. 
“Can I talk to her? Please?” His heart melted at Jack’s sincere plea. He would never deny his son, especially not when it came to this. 
“Of course.” Your head was tilted in confusion until Aaron pulled the phone from his ear and held it to you. “It’s for you.” 
Your beaming smile lit up the whole cabin as you practically snatched the device from his hand, cradling it to your ear as if you were holding a baby bird. “Jack?”
Aaron couldn’t hear his response over the roar of the airplane’s engine but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because as soon as you sunk back into your seat, your eyes sparkling with love, he became lost in his fantasies.
He could see you clear as day, standing in front of him in a white dress, glowing in that way you did when you were overwhelmingly happy. Jack would be between you, both as your man of honour and his best man, unable to choose which side he wanted to stand on. Maybe there would even be another little Hotchner in the crowd with your eyes and Aaron’s dimples. 
Possibly even two of them, or three. 
Your quiet giggles made his heart skip a beat and Aaron thought that he didn’t mind if you took all his calls from Jack on the way home if it meant that he could hear your voice, unburdened by the depravity of the job.
He wondered if it was too early to start shopping for rings.
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thewulf · 9 months
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With My Life || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hotch x Bau!reader where readers boyfriend turns out to be the unsub. Maybe like a case where the bau gets attacked and threatened personally and the unsub generally knows alot abt them... Read Rest Here
A/N: Inspo struck and I had to go! Hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N
Word Count: 4.1k+
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You sat down at the conference room table in a rush, coffee in hand, with damp hair and all, “Sorry, sorry. The line at Starbucks was a little slow this morning.” Sitting down you looked quickly at the case file location before a male voice next to you brought your attention to him. A local case. Very interesting.
Derek peaked up from the case file with a sly grin on his face, “Priorities? Right Y/N?” He asked looking right at you looking at you with a devilish smirk. He always had to be the one making a comment.
Sticking your tongue out at him you wanted so desperately to flip him off, but your boss was staring right at the two of you, and you knew better. So, you just turned back to the case file mumbling, “Shut up.” Earning a snicker from the man to your side.
You didn’t see the soft smile he shot you, your eyes were glued to your next case reading all about it. You might not have noticed but half the team certainly did. It was the most obvious thing to them. Aaron adored you. Hardly ever yelled at you. Certainly, never reprimanded you. The team knew of your boss’s big obvious crush he had on you that you had yet to notice. He wasn’t even good at hiding it. Which was ironic because you were a good profiler. A damn good profiler. Maybe even a better agent as a whole. You just got it.
So, when an odd feeling ripped through your body as you read more and more details. It’s only when you got to the page full of victims your fears were confirmed. A page full of women who looked eerily familiar to you. You hadn’t even realized the groups eyes were trained right on you.
Derek nudged your side hearing your barely there gasp, “What is it, pretty girl?” He asked, the flirting had become second nature to you it only became concerning when he didn’t flirt with you.
You looked up suddenly so aware of every pair of eyes right on you. It would have been a damn miracle if you wouldn’t have blushed, “The victims, they uhm…” You cleared your throat before looking right up at Aaron, “They look like my sister.” You let out a nervous breath clenching your hands tightly.
Spencer looked over at you quickly, “Does she live here? Local?” He asked.
You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Just down the road from me.” You let out a shaky breath seeing how close all these girls lived to her.
A stark silence took over the group. Nobody knowing really what to say. It was unlikely that your sister had anything to do with it. Likely just an odd coincidence. She happened to look like the victim the unsub was after. It still made you horrifically nervous though. She was in danger. Never in your life would you have thought that.
“Interesting. Noted.” Spencer gave you a half smile before turning back to the group spouting off a few theories. Making sure none of them included your sister. Ever grateful you were for the boy genius you were.
This was weird. The whole thing was weird. Too close to home. Everything about it seemed oddly familiar too you. The routines of the unsub struck a nerve with you like none of the other ones had before. This case was different.
The unsub was speeding up at a rapid pace. Six months down to three down to one.  He was now down to two weeks between kills, on his fifth girl. The fifth girl that just unfortunately looked almost damn near identical to your very pretty sister. A fifth life that hung in the balance.
You were driving from the crime scene of the fourth victim dropping off some samples to the lab when Hotch called. You answered thinking nothing of it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to call. It was the easiest way for your team to communicate when out in the field. Especially when you as scattered as you were right now.
“Hey Hotch.” You hummed getting back into the SUV after dropping the samples off. The best part of local cases were the home beds and knowing where everything was. It was hard learning new places every week.
“Y/N. What do you know about these red beads. Second crime scene they’ve been found at. You mentioned something about it when we were back at the BAU?” He thought to call you when they found it. You’d seemed weirdly off by the whole thing. Especially when you read the detail about the beads. It couldn’t be. No, you refused to believe it.
“Red beads?” You repeated him. A chill ripped down your spine in realization, “With gold detailing?” You asked without him telling you. That sinking feeling you got from earlier on in the week coming back. Could it be your boyfriend, Nick? The guy you’d been seeing for the last two years of your life?
“Yes, little veins of gold.” He confirmed. That detail was left out of the crime scene notes. You shouldn’t have known that. Not without somebody telling you. But you knew because you bought him that bracelet not a year ago. He fell in love with it, so you bought it for him, as a gift. You loved doing little things like that for him.
“Nick.” You breathed out a pained cry realizing who was doing this. Your boyfriend? Your fucking boyfriend was murdering girls who looked like your sister for almost half a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. The vomit wanted to hurl out of your stomach as the sick realization crossed over you. The kisses, the cuddles, the sex was with somebody who did this to women. Yeah, it was far too much and the contents of your stomach were unfortunately winning the mind battle.
Hotch was still on the line when you pulled your SUV off to the side of the highway to let yourself puke. It was too much. Far too fucking much. Hurling the contents of your lunch up off the side of the highway was certainly not in your plans for the day. But here you were, hurling up the contents of your lunch thanks to Nick, your not so sweet boyfriend. A literal fucking murderer. Your hurled up nothing but you still fell ill. You felt disgusting. You shared a bed with a man who got off on hurting women? Insane. This whole thing was insane.
Hotch’s panicked yells from the inside of the SUV made you get the hell back up, “Agent Y/L/N, for the last time, are you alright? I’m calling an ambulance out if I don’t…” He sounded exasperated with the situation, desperate.
You cut him off abruptly letting out a panicked, “No, no Hotch I’m fine.” It was a blatant lie, but you didn’t need a fucking ambulance. Dramatic ass man that he was you didn’t need medical help.
He let out a gruntled, “What the hell was that Y/N?”
You certainly weren’t going to admit that you’d just puked, no, that was gross.
You looked behind you making sure you could get back on the highway, hightailing it for his parents’ house. You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly where these girls were being hidden, right under your damn nose.
Spit it out, Hotch was waiting, “The unsub. It’s Nick. My boyfriend. It’s him. He’s the one doing this.” Letting out a shaky sigh you bit your lip, hard, to bite back the tears. It’s like he wanted you to catch him. But why?
A sharp intake of air is all you heard from the other end of the line. You’d done it, you’d rendered Aaron Hotchner speechless. As wrong as it was a ghostly smile appeared on your lips. It was your turn to be the fucked up one of the group.
“How do you know?” He asked not quite believing you just yet. It seemed, too good to be true?
“The beads. I didn’t think anything of it at the last crime scene. But the same one showing up this time around? He has a bracelet with those same beads. I gave it to him. And…” You paused pretending you weren’t about to keep going.
“And?” He egged you on as you got closer to his parents home.
You let out a few ragged breaths. You felt manic now. Your life was beginning to crumble all around you, “I think..” Another breathe was needed before you continued. Hotch let you take your time, as desperate as he was for information, “I think he’d obsessed with my sister. I just, never saw it. Or I ignored it.” You admitted while continuing to look ahead.
Your heart was broken as you admitted it out loud. How you never put it together was beyond you. Had you really wasted years of your life with a psycho self-absorbed murderer that wanted your sister and not even you? If you had any contents left in your stomach they’d definitely be rising by now.
You spit out the address at him, they were ten minutes tops. But you were only three minutes away. You could do this. You were an agent first. Somebodies life was on the line. A family needed to be spared from the horrors it could be.
“Agent Y/L/N, stand down! Do you hear me?” Your boss yelled through the phone as you parked the SUV in the driveway like you had so many times before.
Your eyes darted back and forth between the entrance of the garage and the call you were on, “Yes Hotch, I hear you.” You wanted to dart out, but you had to follow orders, had to.
It was a painful wait. Silent with Hotchner on the other end. He wouldn’t hang up and he wouldn’t let you either. You were find waiting until you heard a pained yell coming from a female voice. You shook your head in horror. You were right. Fuck, you were right. This was certainly the beginning of the end now.
“Hotch!” You let out a whisper-yell.
“What?” he asked from the other end of the line in his usual stoic tone.
“I heard screaming, I have to go in.” You already threw the door open pulling your gun away from your hip.
“No! Stay back. Do not go in. Do you hear me?” His voice sounded firm but shaky. Was he nervous?
You wish you could’ve slapped some sense into him though, “Hotch! I’m here. She’s dying. Please.”
“No.” He nearly growled.
“Screw it.” You jumped out of the SUV running towards the screaming girls cries. You couldn’t help the guilt that was slowly consuming you alive. You couldn’t let a fifth girl die right under your nose. A complete and utter fucking failure you were.
“Agent Y/L/N!” You vaguely heard before you opened the door to the creepy ass basement you usually avoided at all costs.
Drawing your gun, you creaked down the steps of his parents garage’s basement. A place you’d long since thought abandoned. A perfect place to hide his victims away. You let out your last sigh before going completely quiet. A cry broke out and an angry yell followed. That didn’t sound like your Nick. Who was down there?
You made it to the door. You could do this. Breathe. Opening it slowly you cursed when the creakiness rang out. Should’ve thought of that.
“Who’s there?” Your boyfriends voice rang out.
Damn. It really was him. Go time. You walked through pointing your gun right at him. The last person you’d ever thought the gun would be drawn on, “Let her go Nick.” Your voice sounded surprisingly calm as you spoke.
He ran over to the poor girl who look like she’d been tortured for the last few days. He picked up a rusty knife holding the jagged blade to her throat. Your back straightened as your steadied your aim on his chest.
You held the gun steady in your hand as you held it up to him, your boyfriend, the supposed love of your life, “This is disgusting, Nick. Drop the knife.” Your hand wanted to shake so bad. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let the training kick in. Don’t think.
He let out a sick laugh bringing the knife closer to the poor girls neck, “You would never do it, my love. Not after all these precious years spent together.”
It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Had he really been doing this for almost a year? Targeting women that looked just like your sister because that’s who he wanted? Her?
“You don’t know me at all Nick.” A cold voice came from you. The voice that took over when you needed her too.
“Baby…” He grinned knowing just how to rile you up.
“Drop the knife, now.” You nearly growled stepping a bit closer. Your eyes were narrowed in on the knife pressed to the crying girls neck.
“Y/N…” He tried to press on. Whatever he was doing was working. He was getting under your damn skin. Where was the fucking team?
“I said, drop the knife.” You were so thankful your voice didn’t waver. God did it want to. Your heart was pounding so rapidly in your chest it felt like you’d just ran the damn D.C. Marathon moments prior though.
It happened so fast. You were trained better than this. But it was him. You were taken so off guard by the whole situation. It fucked with you so deeply. On another level. You were distracted.
You heard the sound before you felt the pain. Your instincts kicked in and you aimed for center mass. One shot. Two shots. Then three rang out before the pain in your lower abdomen took over. You clutched your stomach as your body caved in on itself. Your hand was warm, wet, and sticky. A bloody combination if you’ve ever known one. The fucker had shot you with his other hand snaked around the girls waist.
You dropped you gun kicking it away, just in case, before hobbling over to the shaking girl, “Are you alright?” You asked while clutching your stomach with one hand. While the other you untied her from the seemingly dead body behind her. The dead body of your murderous ass boyfriend.
Once she was freed you nodded to yourself seeing him laying there in a puddle in his own blood. How could this have happened? How did you miss it? He played you more flawlessly than even you could have imagined. Finessed for everything you thought you were.
A cry ripped from your throat as your body hit the floor. You scooted away from him so quick, with every ounce of energy you had left. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing as you waited. The girl had made her way upstairs, but you didn’t have the energy, not anymore. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there before a soft pair of hands grabbed your face bringing it from the drooped position it was in.
“Y/N. Are you hurt?” Aaron’s blurry face clouded your vision. You were hurt beyond imagine. How were you supposed to come back from this one? In one swift moment everything you’d been building had been leveled.
Blinking slowly, you nodded down to where your hands were grabbing at your side. Crimson red blood coated your hands as your tried keeping the wound closed with pressure, but you were coming up far too short.
He sucked in another breath before he threw your hands to the side pressing his much larger hands into your body with ease. A pained cry automatically seemed to rip right from your own throat as his hands pressed to stop the bleeding. He shouted for a medic to muffle your cries from your teammates who were clearing the room. They kept busy knowing Aaron had you under control. Seeing one of their own down was horrific enough. They had to finish the job and get out. You were in good hands with Aaron though, they knew that.
A wave of utter sadness washed over his face as he witnessed your state, “I know, I know, shh sweetheart. It’ll be over soon.” He held the pressure knowing it was crucial to your consciousness, but it hurt like hell. He knew all too well, being shot countless times before and all. The shock never seemed to get easier even if you knew what was coming.
You nodded biting back the tears that so desperately needed to fall. You felt like a pathetic little baby right now, how did people handle this so well? It felt like a fire was being lit within your insides. Aarons hands felt like the flint that kept starting the fire over and over again.
He called for a medic again before the pain was beginning to become too much for even the adrenaline to overcome. It felt like hell was burning inside you and your body wasn’t able to handle it for too much longer.
He cursed seeing your eyes opening and closing far too slowly for his liking, “Do you trust me?” He asked you squatting down, so he was level with your failing body.
“With my life Aaron Hotchner.” You answered honestly. Because you did. He loved you and you loved him. The same could be said for everybody on the team but the two of you were a bit different. Shared a deeper bond. Two twin flames that danced around each other so flawlessly every time they were around each other.
He nodded feeling his own heart pick up. The admission felt so authentic. So pure. Like you’d never told a lie before. He placed an arm beneath your knees and another behind your back, “This is going to hurt.”
You nodded quickly, “Okay. I trust you.” You assured him. Because you did. You trusted him with every fiber of your being. You’d known him for years. Loved him for the same amount of time. Fell in love with him not too long after Haley passed. You fell in love with the broken man who picked himself back up for his son, for his team, for you. The one who put everybody else in front of himself. The one who you wanted the most. It was Aaron Hotchner. It was always going to be him.
Without so much as another word he lifted you from the wall you were seated against. You bit you cheek stifling the cry that wanted to come out. He was right, it hurt like hell. Damn the sick man for getting one last thing on you before he died. Before you killed him. Damn. You killed your fucking boyfriend. Three shots and he no longer existed on this earth. The man you thought you were going to marry. Have kids with. Gone. In an instant.
He began to walk up the stairs. His eyes shuffling between your concentrated face and the stairs below him. He’d be damned to drop you now. He’d also be damned to let the woman he loved die in front of him. Not again. That was a promise he made to himself not long after Haley passed. That would never, ever happened again. Not in this lifetime.
He walked you right up and outside to the first ambulance he found. He watched as you answered their questions without going into too much detail. He watched as your mind was seemingly in another place. He never let go of your hand though. Giving it gentle squeezes as your voice caught in your throat. Hotch all but demanded to sit in the ambulance with you even though it was against protocol for them. Being in the FBI did have its privileges as he flashed his badge to the crew.
“Y/N.” He grabbed your hand again once the man was done hooking you up to the heart monitor.
Your eyes snapped back to this reality. Head turning to him you gave him a lazy smile, “Hotch.” Answering him you let the smile drop. You weren’t happy. Not in the slightest. But he always seemed to draw a smile right to your face. No matter the mood you were in.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, giving him a silent answer.
He shook his head, “You don’t have to lie. Not with me.”
You looked down and away. So, fucking ashamed, “How did I miss it? How’d he do all that without me knowing?” You asked him. It’s all that was on your mind. How had you failed four girls? Ruined four families lives.
He shook his head again quickly, “You’re seriously blaming yourself for this?”
“Yeah. Fuck Hotch…” You couldn’t continue as the hot tears finally escaped. A sob spilled from your throat. Hotch earned an ugly glare from the medic as he told you that you needed to calm down.
“It’s okay sweetheart.” He squeezed your hand knowing he needed to draw your mind away, far away from where it was stuck, “It’s easy really. To hide it.”
“What?” You sniffled looking at him with a confused gaze.
He brushed away a few more straggling tears on your cheeks before answering, “To hide the whole thing from you. You’re gone all the time. It’d be so easy. Don’t beat yourself up. Please?” You’d never seen him so desperate, so needy for a conformation.
“You’re just saying that.” You could never accept it. You only would accept you distinct failure here.
“Afraid not. You’re one of my best agents. It’s a lot easier to hide things too once they’ve got your trust.” He laced his fingers in between yours instead of simply holding your hand.
A delightful chill ran up your arm at that. A spike to the heart rate monitor gave you away. Your worst nightmare was suddenly coming to life. With raised eyes your turned back to him almost afraid to see his reaction. He was amused. A big smile adorning his usual stony face. His smile erupted into laughter seeing your wide-eyes expression.
“Thank you Aaron Hotchner. For this. For everything. For believing in me.” You sighed, “And I’m sorry for disobeying your orders.”
He looked down unsure of what to say, “I’ll never condone it, but I understand it.” He gave your hand a squeeze before deciding to cross the line that he vowed to never cross. But you needed it. He could see the desperation in your eyes, “You have to know how much I love you, Y/N. Inside and out you are one of the best people I know. I would do anything, say anything, go anywhere to protect you. I love you so dearly. The team loves you. You are so much more than this. More than a man who targeted a gentle soul. Please, don’t carry this burden. Let me help you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” He spilled it out on the table in front of you.
You watched him in awe as he let it all out there. It was almost too much to believe as you listened to his words, “You love me?” You asked.
He nodded with fervor, “Love you. Loved you. Will always love you.” He looked right into your eyes forgetting the two medics in the ambulance with them, “In love with you.”
The damn heart monitor went off signaling you registered his words even if your face was still in shock, “In love with me?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He nodded his head wanting to be closer to you. It certainly wasn’t the place he imagined confessing his love to you, but time was of the essence. He couldn’t let you slip away like he’d let you before.
You nodded, “Yeah.” You answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He smiled for the first time that night, “We can talk about it later, when you’re feeling better.”
You gave him the most skeptical look, “You hit your head or something Hotchner?” You laughed giving him an out.
He shook his head brushing a straggling hair away from your eye, “Do you trust me?” He asked, repeating his question from earlier.
“With my life, Mr. Hotchner.”
He laughed seeing you so playful again. It provided him with such a relief he couldn’t conceptualize until that smile crossed your face again, “Then trust me when I say this. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time. We’re going to get you feeling better than we’re talking about this, alright?” He all but demanded.
“Sir, yes sir.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, “You’re going to be alright, Y/N.”
You looked over at him with a smile that felt so real, “I know. I’ll be just fine with you by my side.”
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luveline · 1 day
Note
Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?
pregnant!reader, 1k
Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 
There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 
“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  
When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.
“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” 
“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 
He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 
Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 
“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 
“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 
“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 
“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 
“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 
Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 
Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 
“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 
“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 
You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 
“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 
Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 
You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 
“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”
“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 
“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 
“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 
“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 
“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 
“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 
“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 
He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 
“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 
Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 
Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 
“Aaron,” you murmur. 
He nods into Jack’s hair. 
“You are happy, right?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 
You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 
Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”
“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 
“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 
“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 
“No way!” 
“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 
He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 
Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 
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