#aaron hotchner scenarios
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omg pls pls pls hotch x nerdy reader like everyone would think you’d be the perfect match with spencer, having the biggest love of reading and all things art, literature, sci-fi and all things nerdy but NOPE it’s hotch who catches your clumsy eyes and he wouldn’t have it any other way!
You're right in the middle of reading about the USS Enterprise's next big adventure when your novel is rudely whisked from your hands, and a strong arm wraps around your waist, yanking you back into a firm chest.
"You were going to fall down the stairs," A deep timbre comes from behind you, and you glance around bewilderedly to find yourself, in fact, at the entrance to the stairwell instead of the elevator. Evidently you'd been too engrossed in your reading to realize you'd gone past the elevator bay and into the stairwell, and you'd have fallen right down the concrete steps if it weren't for Aaron's help.
"Thanks." You stammer, struggling to free yourself from his tight grip, "Aaron- Hotch, lemme go. I'll pay attention from now on, just- don't let anyone see us."
"I don't care if anyone sees us right now. I care that you were so distracted that you almost fell blind down at least one set of stairs, if not seven." His eyes are stern as they regard you, but loving as the reason.
"I know! I know, I get too into it." You try prying your book from his hands but he flips your bookmark into place and tucks the pocket sized novel into his suit jacket lining, "Hey!"
"I'm confiscating this until you're back from the deli. You can have it back when you're sitting down at your desk."
"Agent Hotchner, that's hardly your right to take away a subordinate's property."
"It's my boyfriendly duty to make sure that my girlfriend doesn't plummet to her death with her nose in a book."
You're definitely stable on your feet now, and you try one more time to shimmy out of his hold to no avail, "Aaron! Someone's really going to see, come on."
"Promise me." He glares at you, a slight squinting of his eyes that makes you understand every single squirming unsub for their fear of him.
"Okay, okay! I promise." You nod vehemently, and he lets your waist go. You straighten your blazer, smoothing a hand down your trousers, "Now, can I please have my book back? I promise I won't read while walking anymore."
"You can have it back when you get back from the deli." He repeats, "You can pick it up from my office when you bring me a pastrami sandwich on rye."
"Pickles?"
"Extra. Here." Aaron fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing you his card, "Get something we can split for dessert. And you'd better not have a backup novel hidden in your purse for the walk there."
For the record, you do, but Aaron's firm glare is enough to dissuade you from using it.
"I don't! I'll be back in twenty minutes." You promise Aaron, tucking his card into your pocket and entering the stairwell on purpose this time, "Be careful with my book!"
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction#aaron hotchner smut
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Missing hotchner reader❤️❤️
hotch and spencer have to work together to look after you when things get really hard. fem, 3.3k
cw cptsd episodes and descrips of abuse
Adoption isn’t as permanent as people might think —they can give you back anytime they want. So when the oldest Hotchner started hitting you, it wasn’t that different to a previous placement, nobody was watching over you, and you were so afraid of losing your new brother that you didn’t say a word.
You knew, reasonably, that if Aaron was to find out about how his father (your father) had been treating you, he’d report it to your caseworker or the police or somebody and you would be removed from the Hotchner household. And Aaron was the first person you’d ever met to care about you, really care, maybe even love, so you hid it all away and you told him that things were fine. You do it for years.
You move out, you go to college. Aaron moves you into a nice apartment a few streets away from his own, and for a while, life is good. You meet his coworker, Spencer, and you get along. Spencer takes you on dates to cinemas and patisseries and he buys you cuddly plushies with hearts sewn into their hands at Valentine’s. By all accounts, things should be good.
You can’t breathe, is the problem. Somebody has their hand raised to hit you again and you can’t do anything about it, you just have to take it, because you’re useless, because you deserve it, because you’re a drain on everything and everyone and you aren’t worth the trouble, you deserve the hit. You’re so sorry.
“I know,” someone murmurs quietly, a sensation on your shoulder. You wait for it to close around the back of your neck. “I know. It’s alright.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, barely, a breath of sound.
“You don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
But you did, you did, he was in a bad mood to begin with and you hit his glass of scotch right off the table, smashed glass and wasted drink and a bad mood made worse. He should’ve hit you by now. He’s waiting for you to sit up. He doesn’t like to hit the back of your head, but he will if you cower long enough.
“Honey,” the voice says, right by your ear, “I’m not going to hit you, do you hear me? I am never, ever going to hit you.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I don’t care that you knocked the glass over. I don’t care at all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can you look at me? I promise,” —he emphasises until his voice burns— “I am not going to hit you.”
Aaron sounds upset enough to force your gaze. You look at him through your lashes, ready to shut your eyes if this is a trick, but he has his hands flat in front of you and he’s completely still.
“Sweetheart,” he says, so unlike himself, “I wouldn’t hit you over a glass. I wouldn’t hit you if you did it on purpose. I wouldn’t hit you if you smashed every piece of glassware in this apartment for fun.”
He’s hit you for less.
“Sweetheart,” he says again, waiting for a reaction you can’t give, “do you want me to go away?”
It’s a good question. Do you want him to leave? Immediately, everything inside of you says No. He’s gonna hit you just like the last time you smashed his drink, out of the blue, ‘cos didn’t mean to doesn’t matter. But you don’t want Aaron to go. He’s the only person who’s ever loved you properly.
“It’s okay, just hit me,” you say, staring at him, pleading with him not to even as you ask for it, “it’s my fault.”
“Not gonna hit you,” he says, reaching for you now, even when you flinch, he holds you by the arms and he stares at you hard.
“It’s okay,” you say.
“It’s not okay. It won’t fix anything.”
“I deserve it.”
“No, you don’t.” Aaron rubs your arms in tandem, shaking his head, a trace of panic in his eyes you’d missed until now.
It’s Aaron. Aaron’s never hit you.
“You never deserve to have someone put their hands on you,” he says, practically murmurs, “I’m sorry I let that happen.”
“I lied to you.”
“I know. I know you did, honey.” He shakes his head gently. “It’s not your fault.”
“I hit the glass over,” you say, And he hit me so hard I couldn’t hear right for hours. You still remember the way it shocked you, because you’d started to expect it but you were still surprised he’d bother with such a hard hit, that he could get that angry about it.
“I thought it was just me,” he murmurs, sorry, clutching at you like he needs you to listen. “I never should’ve left you in that house, but I thought it was just me. It was only ever… me.”
You already know —you’ve had this conversation before. He’s apologised already.
He cups your cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re not angry with me?”
“No. I’m never angry with you.”
You come to yourself in fits. You’re kneeling on the floor not far from the table, the mess of glass, half still intact and cupping a few sips of scotch. Aaron’s kneeling right next to you, still in his suit, hasn’t been home long, you were waiting for him. You used your key because you didn’t want to be home alone. Today’s been a bad day. You’ve felt stringy and strange for hours and you knew seeing Aaron would set it right. That Aaron would make you feel better through force of will.
And then you’d knocked his drink off the table and both of you had startled, and he’d said, “Wait, don’t, you’ll hurt yourself,” but all your brain heard was You.
You. What could be said to mean more than that?
“You’re not gonna hit me,” you whisper.
“Never.”
“Can you help me up?” you ask, half apart from yourself. Your head is back, but your legs won’t cooperate.
“Where do you want to go? The kitchen?” he asks, leaning so you can wrap your arms behind his head. He lifts you up with some effort on his part, adjusting you, and leading you together to the kitchen to sit you at the island bar. “Sit tight. I’ll clean the glass, okay? It won’t take long.”
You don’t want him to go, but you don’t wanna say no.
Time away from him is good, in a way. It makes you remember who you actually are outside of the bad memory. It hammers home that this is Aaron’s apartment, your big brother, your number one supporter. There’s a picture of you and Jack right there on the fridge stuck by an alphabet magnet. Aaron’s never hit you before and it’s not going to change now, because he is nothing like his dad.
He’s never really seen you act like this, though, and you aren’t excited for what he has to say next. He has a penchant for seeing you at your worst and building you back up again. It shouldn’t be his problem, but it is.
He brushes the glass into a dustpan and unloads it into a bag, which he trashes. You watch him wet a paper towel and wipe it across the floor for the shavings.
When he’s drying his hands on a towel, you summon the courage to apologise. “Aaron, I’m… I’m sorry. Sorry.”
He closes his eyes. He doesn’t look much like the other Hotchner’s. He’s dark-haired like his mother, and he smiles with all kindness. You never saw anything so soft at home, not unless he was there to visit. It’s a wonder he ever bothered getting to know you, already living his life very much outside of the household, and shouldn’t he have moved on? If it were you, if there were another kid in the house right now, could you go back? Knowing how you were treated?
“I love you,” he says. “You know that?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you could understand why I don’t want you to say sorry, or be sorry, because of that?”
You smile weakly. “Yeah.”
“Yeah? Because if Jack were in here today, and he had hit that drink over, you couldn’t have hit him. Could you?”
“Of course not.”
He’s mildly guilty for the example, you can tell, but it cements the sentiment in your mind and he can see that. “When you love someone, you don’t hit them. We just can’t do it.”
“I just… just– you– I got all mixed up in my head.”
“I know.”
“Thought you were him,” you say tightly, quietly.
“I know. Is that the first time you’ve had something like that happen? Like you weren’t sure where you were?”
Your face crumples of its own accord, heat clogging your nose and throat and lining the backs of your eyes. “No… but it hasn’t been that many times…”
“The bad panic attack at work a few weeks ago, was that like this?”
“No, that was just that I couldn’t breathe right. I– I had one with Spencer.”
Aaron frowns, but he speaks kindly, “When was that?”
“A couple of days ago…” You stare at your hands.
“We don’t have to talk about it. But I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“He told me to tell you, but it– I thought he’d break up with me, after, but he hasn’t, so I’ve just been waiting.”
“Honey, I don’t think this is the sort of thing that could make Spencer break up with you. He cares too much.”
“You don’t understand, I– I begged him not to touch me, Aaron. I really scared him.”
With Spencer, it was late. You asked him to stay the night on a limb, and you’d forgotten he was there sleeping beside you, met him in a dark hallway, where he asked what you were doing out of bed. It’s late. You shouldn’t be up.
His hand had settled just behind your neck. He won’t touch you there anymore.
“If there’s something you want to tell me–”
“I want it to go away,” you say.
“It’s not going to be that easy.” He takes a big, deep breath. “You could’ve told me this was happening,” he promises.
“I didn’t want you to know that I– lied so much. Sometimes I can’t believe I let him do it.”
Your tone, quiet and calm and a juxtaposition to the ache in your chest, couldn’t hurt him worse. You're familiar with the pain on Aaron’s face, how it makes him do this sorry smile, how he tries hard not to give it away. “If anyone let him hurt you, it was me.”
“What?”
“I knew he was unkind to you. I knew he shouted. I didn’t try hard enough to get you away.”
“Aaron–”
“If you’re going to blame someone, it has to be me.”
It’s ridiculous. If you hadn’t had Aaron, you would’ve been completely miserable to the marrow of your bones. He’s the last person on earth you’d blame for the way you’re feeling now, so when a tear wells in your eyes, when it hits your cheek in a splash, you let him tut and wrap his arms behind you.
“It’s my fault,” you insist, hiding your face in his shoulder.
“No.”
“It’s my fault, I hit the glass–”
“No, no, it’s not your fault.”
“I’m really s–sorry.”
“It’s gonna be okay, honey. Just breathe. Just take a deep breath for me. I promise you I’m not mad about the glass.”
“Maybe you should be.”
He holds your forehead to his chin, clutching you to him, reassuring and a little too tight. “I’m not mad at you.”
You can’t make yourself believe him.
—
Spencer isn’t expecting to get waylaid by Hotch at Rossi’s dinner party. He can’t think of what he did wrong. You’re happy with him, clingy lately, which he loves, and as smart and sweet as ever, and work is great. Spencer’s a good agent and a better profiler.
Hotch looks so serious that he follows him in silence, squeezing his coke neck like a lifeline.
“I want Y/N to be assessed for PTSD, and I need to know that you’re going to support her,” he says simply.
Spencer searches the backyard for you. You’re laying down in the grass with Jack, Henry, and Penelope. It’s getting late, barely any sunshine left, but nobody’s wanted to ruin the fun and call it a night yet. You don’t fuss as Jack throws himself sideways across your chest.
“Did something happen?” Spencer asks.
“She had an… event. She told me about a similar incident with you the other night. That she panicked and got confused about who you were.”
Spencer nods. “Yeah, I– yeah. I caught her by surprise.”
“That’s the only time it’s happened?”
“Yeah. She’s told me a little about it.”
“About the episode?”
“Everything. And it’s obvious?” He enthuses it with apology, worried he’ll offend Hotch if he says something too blatant, but desperate to be honest. “Most of the time she’s this– she’s amazing, she’s like this light, and then sometimes it’s like she thinks I don’t like her? Like I don’t want to be near her, or like she thinks I’m gonna hurt her.”
Hotch lets his eyebrows rise a little. “Yeah.”
“She cried so much that I didn’t know what to do.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that part, she already told me you made her feel better,” Hotch says quietly. Neither of them mention what they know, how you’d begged Spencer to stay after the episode, how sorry you’d been, how desperate Spencer was to calm you down. “But if you can’t do it in the long run, you need to know now. I can’t start this with her and have you duck out halfway through. I know,” —Hotch gives him a fond smile, half-knocking the wind from him— “that you care about her, and I know it’s not my place to come to you on her behalf, but I’m going to do it anyhow, and you know why I am.”
“What do you mean?” he says, though he knows.
“I’m saying I think she’s going to get worse before she gets better. She’s not well right now.”
“I know she isn’t.”
“I trust you, Spencer. I care about you, too. But she’s going to be my priority, and if you can’t be there for her then it has to be done now... I’m worried she’s going to get really low.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says genuinely. Spencer’s not defensive, only urgent. “Hotch, I more than care about her.”
Hotch nods. “Okay. Good, because I need your help. You have to vet these doctors for me, I have a preliminary list. I’ll send it to you.”
“Wait, have you talked to her about this?”
“I said we’d talk to a doctor. I promised I’d talk to you about it. She’s… I don’t know, she’s scared.”
Spencer straightens up. You have nothing to be scared of with him, not his reaction, not his lack of support. He wishes Hotch had had more faith in him, but none of this is about him. Someone hurt you, and now you have to put yourself back together again.
The kids have disappeared. Penelope’s climbing onto her feet and offering you a hand, but you stay laying down in the grass.
“I really care about her,” Spencer says.
Hotch clasps his shoulder. “Are you going, or am I?”
“I’ll take this one, please.”
“Sure.”
Spencer trudges around the side of the yard, past the bench and the tables and the string lights on the patio to where you’re laying in the bluegrass, eyes nearly closed. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, nudging your hip with his shoe lightly.
“No, sir.”
Spencer sits down in the grass. He finds your wrist to hold.
“You okay?”
“Did Aaron talk to you about the doctor?”
“Yeah, he did. You want to go?”
“What do you think?”
Spencer rubs your pulse. “I think it’s good. If you were having headaches, we’d go to the doctor.”
“Headaches that make me not know who you are.”
“Especially that kind.”
You turn a bit and give him an amused smile. “Sorry I was too scared to say more about it.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer brings a cautious hand to your cheek. He sees the flicker of hurt it brings —you don’t like that he’s careful how, but how can he not be, remembering the way he’d touched your neck and the wound it seemed to inflict in the dark— but he tries to caress it away. “I’m with you,” he says, “I care about you. I want to take care of you, as much or as little as you might need that from me.”
Your eyes fall closed. “It might be nice.”
“What would?”
“To be taken care of by you.”
“I’ll try my best.”
You cover his hand with your own. JJ laughs across the yard, and Jack and Henry shout battle cries. Hotch says, “Jack! Not so rough, buddy!” and makes you laugh.
“Did he intimidate you?” you ask.
“No more than usual. He said I have to decide if I can do this with you.”
You squirm and attempt to sit. If Spencer weren’t nervous about touching you, he’d force you back down. “He shouldn’t have.”
“No, he should. But I already decided.” Spencer finds your fingers, lacing them with his. “It wasn’t really a decision, actually. I want to do this with you, but only if that’s okay with you.”
You nod slowly. “I already said it’d be nice if you took care of me,” you whisper, letting your face dip downward.
He chances a kiss pressed to your temple.
You laugh under your breath. “I know you didn’t sign up for this.”
“Did you?” he asks, giving your back a rub like a wave.
“It’s different. I knew what was happening to me.”
“Angel, you didn’t have a choice,” he says, so quiet he’s surprised when you hear it. “I know you’re… What?” he asks, perturbed when you shake your head.
“You and Aaron…”
You never finish. Spencer can’t make you. He holds your shoulder until the tension under his hand unfurls, relaxing his touch when you decide to lay down in the grass again, quietly asking him to lay with you.
“Be ready for Jack to use you like a trampoline,” you warn, taking his hand.
He has a feeling Hotch will keep Jack away for a while.
Spencer traces the back of your hand with his thumb, over and over. He’s sorry he didn’t know you five years ago, sorry you were alone, sorry someone put their hands on you. He’s sorry you learned to anticipate physical abuse in the wake of mistakes. He’s sorry he can’t take it away from you, ‘cos from the second you took his hand at that park a street from his apartment he’s been a goner, all you had to do was jump up on the lip of the fountain and trust him not to let you fall. He remembers how that felt, the zinging sparks travelling from the palm of your hand into his, the romanticism of two arms stretched apart and your slow circle. And when you fell in, you didn’t blame him, you just laughed and scrambled back out, squealing excitedly about your wet shoes.
It’ll get better, he thinks. Even if it gets worse first. You’ll feel better soon.
He turns his cheek into the grass and beckons you forward for a kunik kiss, nose pressed to yours, wanting to kiss you like he would if you were at home together, and knowing this is enough too.
“You okay?” he asks.
“It’s getting cold.”
Spencer agrees, but neither of you attempt to move.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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from the club



Derek’s wolf whistle made you roll your eyes and try to slip into your seat without drawing too much attention. “Damn, mama,” he sang teasingly, eyeing you up and down.
“Derek Morgan! I ought to-“
“Whoa!”
You glared at Spencer, trying to ifnore the way his eyes trailed over your cleavage. “It’s like you guys have never even been in the presence of a female before,” you snark sarcastically. Secretly, though, you feel complimented that such aesthetically pleasing people thought you looked good.
Emily, Jennifer, Penelope, and Rossi were later than Hotch surprisingly. Aaron strode in next, laying a stack of files on the table. He sat down at his regular spot and turned to make conversation until the other arrived when he turned and saw you. His lips drew thinly over his face as he watched you reach over the table to grab a file. He swallowed and averted his eyes from you when you sat back in your seat. Hotch felt like a pervert and averted his mind to the more pressing matter. Dead bodies, knives, murder, he repeated to himself- trying to draw blood away from his crotch.
J.J., Penelope, and Emily arrived next. “Coffee for you all, my precious gems!” Penny sang, placing the team’s favorite brews in front of them. After she placed yours down her eyes gleamed and she raised her eyebrows. “Did you call-“
“Penelope!” You hollered, turning away from the red-head with a laugh.
She just giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. As Emily took her place beside you, she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’m no better than the men here, y/n. You look hot.”
You swatted her away and waited for J.J. to start the briefing. Emily snickered beside you.
There was really nothing professional about being called into work wearing low-rise jeans and a lacey tank top. But it wasn’t your fault- some of your college friends had stopped in the city and wanted to go to the club and wouldn’t take no as an answer.
Rossi showed up right before Hotch said his favorite phrase (read: “wheels up in 30”). You collected your file and started out of the room.
“Good lo- y/n!”
You whipped around to see Penelope rushinf towards you. “Wh-What?”
“You’ve surprised me more times today than I thought possible, darling girl. Turn around! I didn’t know you had ink!”
You breathed out a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the feeling of her cold fingers tracing over the black ink just above your jeans. “I have some on the mid back too,” you said quietly.
“Impressive,” Rossi- of all people- hummed. “One of my ex wives roped me into getting a matching tattoo with her. The pain was somethinf else and the aftercare was hell. Rookie, here has a high pain tolerance.” He patted your practically bare shoulder and walked by without another word.
Emily purred lowly as she walked by, laughing at the way you flipped her off in return.
“You know, Jeffery Dahmer didn’t consume people that had tattoos… He said that the ‘tattoos made the meat taste like… shit’,” Reid spouted.
The way Spencer paused before saying shit was endearing. Maybe it was your attraction to nerds, but you felt particularly flattered at the weight of his gaze on you. “That’s interesting, Spencer,” you replied quietly. “Did you know the oldest recorded tattoo ink recipe required insect eggs?”
Spencer just hummed.
“I- uh,” Aaron cleared his throat. You stepped back from Penelope’s hands. “I imagine you have more professional attire?”
Your cheeks flushed. “Yes, Hotch. I’m really sorry, my friends convinced me to go out with them, you know, and I-“
Hotch chuckled and held his hands up. “It’s okay, y/n. What you do on your own time is your business,” he said.
You wrung your hands. “Thanks, Hotch.”
“No problem, y/n.” Hotch started to walk away and you felt Derek’s arm wrap around your shoulder. “Nice ink,” he called back to you.
“I’ll see you on the plane, y/n,” Spencer told you with a wave. You smiled back at him and watched him run a hand through his hair as he walked away.
“Lover boy’s gotta thing for you, y/n,” Derek told you, a shit eating grin on his face. “And Hotch too, if I took a guess. I think you made the old man pop a bo-“
“Derek Morgan!”
You shoved him off of you and tried to ignore his gleeful laughter.
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✮ꜜ : ❛ long time coming : aaron hotchner x fem! reader



pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader
summary: after getting hurt out in the field, you're on leave for a month. coming back felt long overdue, that is until your plans with the team lead you to a situation that feels a bit too close for comfort after such a traumatic time. what's worse, your feelings you've harbored for your boss have no choice but to come to light when he makes the odd choice to address you as 'agent' rather than your name after one month of being apart, and years and years of back and forth will-they-wont-they.
content warnings: making out. allusions to sexual assault + r4pe (but only in the context of the case). reader has slight signs of PTSD. anxiety/panic attacks. reader runs into a few pushy men while out at the club. drinking / drunk confessions. reader has a crush on her boss, it is also implied that reader finds derek attractive, and he reciprocates these feelings. hotch is very good at calming reader down. no usage of y/n. reader is described as having shoulder length hair (can be read as a wig/weave) angry/disappointed hotch! reader has been hiding her anxiety / nightmares / memory issues from the team. mentions of vomiting. kissing. mentions of elle & the events of the fisher king. no distinct timeline, but can be read as s7 with the iconic team (hotch, emily, derek, jj, penelope, rossi, & spencer)
"Okay, I didn't know we were going all out. I would've prepared better." you smile shyly as Jennifer pulls you into a tight hug. When Penelope had called you early that morning with an excited decree that you'd been cleared to return to work you hadn't been sure how to feel. You hadn't bothered to ask how Garcia of all people was privy to information you hadn't received from your bosses yet, there was no getting a straight answer when it came to the Technical Analyst.
It had been her idea for the entire team to get together. You'd been out of the office for a full month, and in that time you'd tried your hand at maintaining your bonds with the rest of the group. It of course wasn't the same, but you knew that you'd needed the time. The last time you'd joined them on a case things had gone horribly wrong. You shudder at the thought, you had been doing so good at forgetting about it all, but seeing them again made it all come back.
The unsub had been your run-of-the-mill anger excitation rapist, a creep that had been using an elaborate ruse to entice and entrap women. It had been Emily's idea for the two of you to go undercover, the unsub had been killing two women every week, women who in many ways were polar opposites of one another, a trait that you and Emily shared. Long story short, in the midst of your plan to lure and trap the Unsub, you'd been separated from Emily and cornered.
You’d been carted off by the creep who kept you stuck for three hours before the team used his mistake to find you. By then though, the damage had been done. You remember the look on Rossi's face when he and Hotch came busting in, and found you looking bruised up with a bloody face, and a gun barrel to the side of your head. You'd never seen Hotch quite as scared, at least not since everything with Foyet nearly three years ago when he lost Haley and almost Jack.
You'd been too out-of-sorts to hear the way they'd tried to reason with the Unsub. And you hadn't realized your abdomen was losing blood until a gunshot rang out, bullets whizzing past your head as the unsub curled into himself before falling to the ground. You didn't know much, you thought maybe your eardrums had exploded with the way they were ringing, and you'd half expected to smack your head against the ground and end up with an annoying concussion.
Instead, you'd been met with the sight of your boss. He'd yelled something you weren't privy to, mouth moving as he seemingly forced the rest of the team out of their stupor long enough to get a medic inside to look you over. It was like you said, the details were fuzzy, but nothing had managed to wipe Hotch's worried expression as he fussed over your safety, out of your mind. However, if you were honest with yourself for one measly second, that was nothing new.
Nothing seemed to fill up your mind the way your boss did, and it was stupid, and deplorable all things considered. But it's not like it had even been something you'd asked for. It just happened one day. You shake these thoughts of your near paralyzing emotions away, pulling yourself back to the present as you took in JJ, who despite her perceived candor looked great. "Oh come on Jaige." you huff, and you appraise her more openly. "You look amazing, as usual."
She grins, albeit shyly, and she's waiting, maybe for your approval maybe for something else. She's trying to be discreet as she sweeps your for obvious reminders of what happened, and you feel nervous. Most of your injuries had healed up well enough, and the scratches that littered your face had been covered in a smattering of makeup. You felt comfortable in your pretty girl cocoon, all done up with a bright smile on your face that was surprisingly believable.
"Can I hug you?" she asks, and you can tell she's been holding it in, waiting to ask. You nod your head, a quiet chuckle escaping you as the blonde seems to scoop you into her arms. She's careful not to squeeze too tight, but the love is felt all the same. "God, it's been so weird without you around." she hums, and while the rest of the team is already huddled inside, probably in a booth Penelope picked, you're so happy she's the one here telling you this now.
"Now you know how we all felt when they sent you to the Pentagon." you whisper back, and you hear her bemused giggle as she steps back, and she takes you in again. Your red minidress was a stark contrast to the usual business-casual attire you wore everyday to work. Your hair was curled, pinned back with a gold claw clip, hair just barely ghosting over the divots of your collarbones. You'd opted for a shorter do' following everything with the unsub.
"Never leave us again." she pleads, and you feel this warmth blossoming in your chest at the way she's staring at you, almost like she really means it. You'd joined the team back when Elle and Gideon had still been around. At one point you'd been the rookie, the new girl nobody knew what to expect from. JJ had been right there beside you, even back then. She had been sweet, assertive, your first real friend on the team. She'd welcomed you before anyone else.
In time of course, things had changed, JJ had a husband, kids, a hoard of other units that were plotting on her skills at all times, but she was still JJ. Still that same first friend that helped you to see the Behavioral Analysis Unit was the only place for you. "I'll do my best." you promise, and she grins. She links arms with you before you both head inside the bar. There was music playing, some alternative indie song that wasn't half bad.
"Here's the girl of the hour now." Emily exclaims, and it's clear they've already started tossing back shots. JJ's head is instantly shaking in mortification. So it was going to be one of those nights. Penelope meets you both, pulling JJ from your arms and leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek sweetly, before she's turning to you. She's got tears already brimming in her eyes, and you can't help but giggle at the dramatics of it all.
"I'm so happy to see you." she squeals, and you find yourself hugging back despite the sting of your abdomen. "You look so beautiful." she adds a second afterwards. "What are you looking to get lucky?" she asks, as she uses her hands to push you away slightly, hands resting gently on both of your shoulders. You feel your face growing hot at the implication, and you see the way she's looking at your facial expressions for a signal of your lies. Curse her proximity to profilers.
"I just wanted to look nice." you reply and Penelope lets you off the hook. She leads you to the table, and you're just in time to hear the group finish up their hellos to JJ. She's sitting next to Morgan, who's bright-eyed as he looks up at you. You find yourself fussing with your hair, playing it cool as you press your lips together, re-smearing your lipstick as you waved your hand.
You weren't sure why you felt like the new kid all over again.
"It's good to see you, pretty girl." he croons, and you grin. Morgan was flirty, had been since you met him, and if you weren't so disastrously into Hotch, you think he'd be all on your mind. Well, you know... more than he was. There had been times where you'd been partnered together, and it almost felt like the tension was going to cut you in half. Sexual tension aside though, Derek was your friend.
They all were, and despite what your mind tried to tell you as you sobbed yourself through nightmares during your break from work, they were genuinely happy to see you. "I'm glad you're okay." your eyes flit over to the youngest member of the team. Spence is looking relieved as he too looks up at you with eyes full of relief. He's next to Emily, and she's already downing another drink. She'd be complaining about a migraine the next day, you could hear her now.
"Thanks, Spence." you coo, and you offer him a wink as your eyes fall on the only present member of the team that hadn't addressed you. Rossi had made a point to send his hellos, but due to a previous standing appointment, he wouldn't be joining tonight. You couldn't hold it against him, Rossi was scoping the prairie for wife number four. He offers you a faint smile, the group instantly falling into chatter.
"H-Hey Hotch." you mumble, and he's closest to you, sitting on the outside of the booth as the rest of the team tried their hardest to pretend they weren't expecting this. He doesn't say anything for a moment, instead he takes you in. He wasn't blind, he'd seen you before, you'd always been beautiful, but there was something about you done up like this. Red dress, red lip, bold makeup, and heels that showed off your legs, and accented your model-esque posture.
It was obvious that you were still a bit nervous about being out and about, and you were out of practice with being around the team. He imagined after a bit though you'd be back to yourself. You, and the rest of the girls would be falling into a rhythm in no time. He stands to his feet, much taller than you, as you take a small step back to give him space. "It's good to see you up and about, Agent." and his voice is low, clearly as a courtesy to the bustling of conversation behind you.
"Agent?" you repeat, and the word is so foreign. It makes you take another step back, the bottoms of your Louboutin's clacking against the ground. You looked a bit hurt, but you played it off quickly. "Come on, Hotch. I think we're a little past those formalities." you chuckle awkwardly, and you find yourself looking towards the bar. Yeah, you were definitely going to need a drink. He seems to curse under his breath, but you're not sure if that's due to you, or some internal conflict you weren't privy to. You don't wait to figure it out either.
He doesn't have the opportunity to reply to your correction, because you're looking to Emily, JJ, and Garcia. "Wanna get some shots?" you ask, and you sidestep Aaron, making sure you don't look his way again, as the girls immediately exclaim their agreements. Penelope's sliding out of the booth first, Emily and JJ following her example as they head straight towards the bar. JJ's shooting you a knowing glance as she looks between Hotch and yourself.
"You coming boys?" you extend the invite to Derek and Spencer, who are quick to nod along, both men trailing after the others as they head to the counter to order more drinks. You prepare to follow after them, ready for the welcome respite from your mind swimming in circles.
"I didn't mean to offend you." you stop short, spinning on your heel to meet the gaze of your Unit Chief.
"Well you did." you reply, and your voice is small. "I've known you for almost seven years, and here you are treating me like a stranger." you mumble, and you find yourself tugging at your dress. "I mean, I know it's been a while, but geez Hotch, it's still me." you say and he winces. You're not sure what the last month has been like for the others, but you know what they've been like for you. Torturous. It's been Hell.
"I know." he says, and your eyebrow raises, unmoved by his words. "And again, I didn't mean to offend you." he promises, and he clenches and unclenches his fists by his side. "After everything that happened, I guess I just assumed you'd prefer a more professional approach." he mutters, and you scoff quietly. Classic Aaron Hotchner, running away from interpersonal conflict with his tail tucked between his legs. "You don't even seem comfortable with us tonight."
You blink. Okay well he had a point there, but you were trying.
"It's not that I'm not comfortable." you mutter, and you look over your shoulder at the rest of the team. "I guess I just didn't expect to feel so out of place being out and about." you shrug your shoulders bashfully. "Everyone's normal, everything seems the same." you continue, and you notice the way that Hotch's lips have pressed into a hard line. "And it's like no time has passed at all for anyone else, but for me it's like I never moved." you blink, shivering at the thought.
Hotch's eyebrows furrow inwardly as he takes in your words. "I still feel like I'm-" you trail off, feeling a wide lump growing in your throat. "It's like I never left." you course correct, eyes shutting briefly, lashes brushing against your cheekbones. "Like no matter how much time passes, it still feels like I'm there with him and I'm-"
"I understand." he cuts you off, you think maybe to salvage your pride or to keep you from having a panic attack at the thought. "And you're certain you're ready to come back to work? You know you can take all the time you need." he reminds you, and you are immediately nodding your head as you wave a tired hand his way.
"I can't stay cooped up in my house anymore." you mumble. "It's becoming counterproductive." you huff. "I'm ready." you add a second later. "Apart from this awkwardness, I'm also perfectly fine." and it's a lie, you'd been having nightmares every night. Restless, sleepless evenings full of dread, and jump scares of your own creation. "I mean, I'm here aren't I?" you offer a tight smile as you reach out and tap Hotch's shoulders twice, a tense little conversation ender.
You don't want to stay huddled up with him anymore, not while he was looking at you like he was trying to see into your soul. You turn on your heel, dress swishing side to side as you head for the group. You find yourself in between Emily and Penelope, the blonde to your left immediately sliding a drink in front of you. You down it in a second, the intense burn as the alcohol rested in your chest was a welcome reprieve from the anguish and anxiety you'd been feeling.
You forget about Hotch, and all your heavy feelings by the time you're on your third drink. Your heels feel much too heavy under your feet as you stumble into Emily, the brunette chuckling vibrantly as you hang off each other, the music playing overhead lulling you into a false sense of security. It was nice being like this again after so long, laughing at the dramatic banter between Derek and Penelope. You wondered if they'd remain purely platonic forever.
Trading gossip back and forth with Emily and JJ was always a treat, especially as Spencer tried to keep up with eyes wide as saucers while Emily finally cracked the secrets of her coveted Sin-To-Win weekends. You weren't sure what was funnier, the peeks into Emily's life outside the unit, or the horrified looks that crossed Spence's face with every new tidbit of knowledge he learned about his coworkers. You found your eyes flickering over to Hotch again.
He was stoic as ever, but looser than he would be in the office. He seemed to enjoy being a quiet observer much more than he preferred to be in the mix. He leisurely swirled his glass of scotch, and you felt that familiar buzz of warmth in your chest when you managed to catch him smiling as he quietly passed conversation back and forth with a newly drunk Penelope, and Derek, who looked exasperated.
"Are you just gonna stare at him all night?" you jump a bit, turning to face Emily with surprise swirling in your irises. "If you keep it up, he's gonna catch you." she adds a second afterwards and you tense, head nodding as you scold yourself. You peel away from the bar, drink clutched in your hand. You had to get away from the bar for a second, maybe the cluttered dance floor would be the best distraction.
"Sorry." you mutter, and Emily offers a airy laugh. "He's just usually so serious." you lean into Emily, who nods along. She'd met Hotch after you, but still she'd managed to become so close to him it was almost surreal. She seemed to always know what he was thinking, they were in sync. Unlike you, who seemed to always be on the other end of a hard stare from the man. For a while you just began to assume he hated your guts. Or better put, he was indifferent to your existence.
That was why his look, that look he'd given you as he cradled your head while he waited for backup had been burned into your skull. All that went out of the window the second he'd labeled you 'Agent' though. God, how stupid were you? Emily's amusement makes your eyes roll. "Can I be honest?" she asks, and you nod. Penelope and JJ have migrated to the dance floor, JJ grabbing the good doctor and bringing him along with them. He looks incredibly uncomfortable.
"Sure, Em. If you think it will help." you reply audibly.
"I haven't seen him this relaxed since everything went down." she admits, and you're surprised. As if somehow your presence had been enough to set the stone-serious man at ease. "The first few days after your accident he was a mess." she adds, and she's got a surprising about of stability to her tone to be as inebriated as she was. She lowers her voice some as she leans into you, "He showed up late." she mutters this like it's some sworn secret just meant for the both of you.
"I'm sure Strauss was just riding him about another mishap in the unit." you try, and Emily looks unconvinced and unimpressed with you. "He's our boss, it's kind of his job to worry about us." you finish.
"Yeah, I guess so." Emily concedes, and she looks like she's done talking about it, so you find yourself relaxing. "Still. I've never seen him go that hard against an unsub, maybe you're not the only person that's feeling something." she leaves you with that, trying to keep from tipping as she marched towards the group. You chuckle quietly to yourself, ignoring Emily's words as you focus on finishing your drink. It seemed you'd inadvertently been trying to be alone all along.
You felt some of the tension melt from your shoulders now that you were standing at the bar, away from those prying eyes you couldn't lie to. There's this sound of heavy footsteps, and then the clearing of a throat, as you turn to be met with the sight of a man. He looked to be about your age, cheeks and nose covered in a little smattering of freckles. He's got a head full of shaggy hair that hangs in his face. He takes a quick step, sliding up against the bar beside you.
Way too close.
"Hey." he mumbles, and you appraise him boredly. It's not like he was ugly or anything, but despite Penelope's words you were not looking to get lucky tonight.
"Hi." you offer a dry greeting, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other as the bar seemingly became a beacon for thirsty men. Just as you were politely stepping away from the freckled man, you found yourself bumping into another man who'd slithered up to the bar, your ass pressing against his crotch as his hands wound around your waist. A sleazy chuckle escapes the man's mouth as you gasp. "I'm so sorry." you exclaim, and you're quick to peel away.
You feel trapped though, there were at least four guys, they all seemed to be friends, they all seemed to be in kahoots.
There's a third and fourth man joining the fray, they all looked to be about the same age, height, and weight class. This was probably their routine: approach and overwhelm whatever drunk girl they might have happened upon. It looked like you were tonight's target. "Hey, what's the rush?" the guy closest to you drawls, and you wonder where all your years of training have gone. His arm raises, and it feels like he might hit you so you flinch way too violently.
"Stick around, we'll order the next round." the next demands, and his breath smells like booze. It stinks, and it's hot as it puffs across your face. You almost break your heels backing away from them, suddenly feeling self conscious a`nd way too vulnerable in your short dress.
"No, it's alright, really." you try, and you stumble again. "My friends are right over there." and you point in their general vicinity. "Have a great night though." you offer politely, and you're trying to make your grand escape. One guy, a shaggy blonde haired man is quick to grab you by your forearm, and it's like you're back to that day. Your bureau appointed therapist had been talking to you about your anxiety, how a range of things could become triggers and transport you mentally.
"That wasn't a question. Stay a while." You're stuck, absolutely frozen in place as your entire body tenses up. Some Special Agent you were, the bureau would be so disappointed in you. Your team would be so disappointed in you. All it took to turn you into a pile of nothing was a bit of confrontation. You could remember a stronger version of you, that girl would've had these men on their knees for even thinking of laying hands on you. God, you missed that girl.
His grip on your arm tightens, fingers digging into you harshly as you find yourself surrounded on every side.
"L-Let me go." you huff under your breath, and you crane your neck. You spot JJ, the blonde's eyes locked on yours as the reality of what's going on forces her to sober up. "I just-" and you jerk away, stumbling back completely. You're surprised you don't scream as your glass drops to the ground shattering as glass sprays in every which direction. You feel like your ankle's twisted as you fall back on your ass. You expect to feel the embarrassing thud that came with smacking your ass on the hard floor of a bar, but it never comes.
Instead you feel cocooned by a familiar scent. Strong arms are looped around you, but you suppose your lack of disgust at the action is just a testament of your comfortability. "Are you alright?" it's mumbled against your ear, and the low tone of his voice makes you shiver. All you can really offer is a tight nod as Aaron's guiding you behind him. You don't get to see Hotch in action, not when JJ, Penelope, and Emily are flocking you like Charlie's Angels.
You feel the first signs of the need to barf pricking at you, and you know that you need to get some air. You needed to breathe.
"God, are you okay?" Penelope asks, and you're not sure if you are being dramatic. I mean, it wasn't like they'd done anything really. Now you were gonna look like the freak that ruined a fun night.
"I'm sorry." you chirp, and you miss the way Jennifer and Emily share a hard glance. It's not until you're feeling brisk air whipping around your face that you realize they've taken you outside, and you haven't stopped apologizing. I'm so sorry. Penelope's got wide eyes, quickly brimming with tears as you find yourself crumbling to the ground. Your hand's quick to clutch around your chest as you try to inhale. The dramatics of it all made you even more nauseous.
You should've stayed at home.
"Hey, hey, hey..." Emily's cooing, and it seems being out like this has sliced through her tipsy stupor. She's focused just like she would be on any regular sort of day. "I need you to breathe." she instructs, and JJ's crouching down in front of you, brown eyebrows draw inwardly as she takes in your clearly frantic state. Every puff of air that escapes you is tight and sounds like it hurts. You can just barely hear the sound of a commotion taking place inside.
You do hear JJ's quiet exclamation of "I'll stay with her, go check on Hotch and Derek!" before Penelope and Emily are heading back into the packed building. She calls your name, and it takes a while for you to regain your voice. She's devoid of pity, which you appreciate. JJ knew more than anyone how much you hated being seen as a burden, or someone to be sorry for. Pride was a killer. "Can you try and take a deep breath for me?" and it's then you realize your choppy little intakes of air weren't doing you any favors.
It takes a great deal of effort for your vision to be less blurry. Your ears were full of cotton, and your head was swimming. You feel bile again in the back of your throat, and you jerk away from JJ's reach. You feel like you're suffocating, transported away from the random bar in the middle of Virginia, and back to a place you'd fought so hard to escape. You were certain you'd remember that unsub forever. His evil eyes, the way he tried to use your entrails like paint.
You remember how Elle had changed after she'd been attacked by Garner. How she had changed so much that she had no choice but to step away from the Unit. Would that be your life? You didn't want that life, but it was clear you needed something, you needed help. You couldn't focus on anything else, but what had happened. You'd ruined a night out because the act of being cornered was enough to transport you back.
JJ's still peering at you as if she's waiting for you to start panicking, and maybe you were. "I'm sorry." you huff again, and JJ's shaking her head at you.
There's a deep frown etched into her face as she sighs herself. "Stop apologizing." she insists, and your lashes are wet with unshed tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. Those assholes should've never put their hands on you." she proceeds. "You know that don't you?" she continues, and you don't know how to respond, so you don't. JJ reads you like an open book, and she smacks her teeth. "Well now you do." she says this firmly. "And I'm sure Hotch and Morgan are teaching them that lesson right now." you tense up again.
"I didn't mean to ruin the-" JJ's offering you a hard glare that shuts you up. Another bad habit you'd picked up since the incident. You were working on it, trying not to blame yourself for things you didn't cause. "I'm sorry." and this time it's not because of tonight. "I was so nervous about tonight.-" you take in a hiccupped breath. "I just wanted to prove that I could bounce back." you explain, and it's the first insight you've allowed anyone. "I figured if I pretend everything's normal, soon enough it would be, but it's too much." you huff.
"And that's okay." she promises. "What you went through isn't something anyone's expecting you to forget about in a month, alright? It's gonna take time, and there will be days where it'll hurt a lot more, and there will be days where you're feeling like your old self again." she promises. "What you need to understand is that we-" she pauses as you take it in. "are your family." she finishes, and your lips start to twitch, you're not sure if you'll smile or cry.
"I know-" you proceed, and she holds a hand up in front of you.
"Let me finish." she pleads, and you inhale before nodding. "I don't- none of us want a repeat of what happened with Elle." she says quietly. "None of us want to show up to the unit one day and see your badge and gun sitting on your desk." JJ sighs. "So if you ever start feeling anxious, or terrible, or just like you're back... there." and you wince at the mention. "I want you to call me, call one of us. Don't deal with this alone, alright? Not when you don't have to."
JJ hugs you before you have time to respond, but her words sink deep and make you feel warm inside. "Thanks, Jaige." you mumble against her hair. She squeezes you tighter, and you believe it's to make up for her shyer hug earlier.
"You're welcome." she mumbles back, and then she's pulling back. You don't have much respite, Penelope practically tackling you in a hug of her own. You hadn't even realized the rest of the team has left the bar, you were sure the mood of the night was much lower.
"I'm so glad you're okay!" Penelope exhales, and you do too, breathing fine again, save for a few hiccups that escaped you every so often. She lets you go after a beat, and you're quick to take a small step back, suddenly feeling anxious once more.
"Yeah, I'm fine now." your eyes meet Derek and Emily's. "Thank you." and you're chuckling quietly as Derek pulls you into his side. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, and you warm inwardly. Spencer does hug you, and it's a shock. One of those hugs that you never take for granted, because it could be a while before you get another. Once he's pulled away you find yourself still hovering, listening quietly as they all decide the night's not over.
You respectfully bow out, you'd had enough for one day. It's then you notice that Hotch is all by himself. You quietly excuse yourself, but you find that they're not really listening now that you were safer. "Are you alright?" you ask, and your voice is very quiet. Hotch looks up from his phone as if he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You take in his face, and it's clear he's been in some sort of scuffle. Most notable due to the fact he's got blood smeared under his nose.
"I should be asking you that." he retorts, and your eyebrows furrow in.
"Y-You already did." you remind him, eyes darting away. "Why are you over here by yourself?" you shoot off a round of questions, the wind whipping around, and making you crave the comfort of your bed. You maintain a respectful balance, you weren't in any rush to be all up in someone's space.
"I think I've had enough of crowds for the night." he retorts. You don't realize until it's happened though, your hand reaching up to swipe at the blood that's slowly drying on his upper lip.
"Get into a bar fight?" you ask, and you hold your breath for the answer. Hotch looks down at you, and there's this unreadable expression on his face. You realize that this is nothing new. Hotch had never been easy to read, he was one of the greatest profilers you'd ever met, one of the greatest people. But he'd always been an enigma. His emotions were an Alcatraz all on their own.
"You should see the other guy." the classic rebuttal to a question like yours. It doesn't make you smile, mostly because he's not smiling either. "Are you okay?" and he's got you by your wrist, eyes zoned in on the harsh mark the guy from the bar had left behind. "He never should've touched you." his voice lowers, and there's an annoyance attached to his tone. "I'm so sorry." you find yourself huffing.
"You shouldn't have fought him." you say matter-of-factly. Your fists fold up at your sides, your lips pulling down into a frown. "It'll give everyone the wrong idea." you say, and you wrench your hand away from his grasp.
"Everyone?" he repeats, and he looks confused, classic Hotch.
"Me." you correct, "I'll get the wrong idea." you whisper. "I might actually think you like me." you admit quietly.
"We wouldn't want that." he replies, and his tone is far from mocking. You hate that it makes you crack a smile. You hate that he's always the one that manages to get that reaction out of you.
"Hey, are you two coming? We're all heading to Mo's." Emily calls, and you snort at the fact that their alcohol riddled mind had caused them to forget you'd already declined. You take a step away from Hotch, and you hate that you stumble. You were hating a lot of things tonight. Maybe you weren't as sober as you'd thought.
Aaron looks to you as if he's waiting to see your answer before giving his own, and maybe he was. The second you're politely explaining that you're ready to head home, Aaron is offering to drive you. Derek is whistling, Emily and JJ offering you smug little smirks. Penelope is trying to keep herself secured to Earth. "He's gonna take her home." he whispers to no one in particular, and it's a horrid attempt.
"We all heard, babygirl." Derek replies to her, and you find yourself a bit stuck. The thought of spending the eighteen minute car ride with your boss make you want to scream, but you'd taken a cab. Your own car was parked in the driveway of your place. And he doesn't look like he' taking any goodbyes either way. Rounds of goodbye and see you laters are soon offered. "Take care of our girl, Hotch." Derek calls, and you hear Spencer as he starts to rant about Derek's turn-of-phrase.
Our girl. Hotch finds that the words repeat in his head like an obnoxious echo. "Why are you doing this?" you question quietly. "If you're just trying to make up for the whole Agent thing, there's no need." you proceed, and you take a small step back.
"I'm not trying to make up for that." he replies quickly. "But, you're drunk, and you've been through a lot tonight." he reminds you as if you're ditsy or something. "It wouldn't be smart to leave you by yourself." he continues, and he inhales deeply. He watches the way you watch him, like you're unsure, like you're suspicious. "That isn't a testament of whether or not I think you can handle yourself... and neither was fighting that man at the bar." he promises, and you blink.
"No?" you ask, and your tongue feels extra dry. Like you've licked a stripe of sandpaper.
"No." he reaffirms. "You mean a lot to the team. We wouldn't be the same without you." he says this bit like he means it, and you can't find any trace of a lie residing in his face. He does mean it.
"Thank you, Sir." you reply under your breath, exhaling the word. The chill of the night finally gets to you, and you shiver.
"Can I take you home?" he asks, and you know you're reading into it more than you should. You know what he means, what he's really asking, but delusion was healthy every now and again, right?
"Y-Yeah." your head nods, voice wavering slightly as you take hold of the bottom of your dress. "Yes." you say more firmly.
"Okay." you stand there for a few moments more, passing charged glances back and forth. "You never answered my question earlier." is what he says to break the moment. "About how you were doing..." he proceeds. "I've asked you twice, and both times you-"
"Deflected?" you offer, and his head nods. "I guess I'm just scared you'll see right through whatever my answer is." you admit, and you cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Emily and JJ will at least humor me." you explain. "Penelope won't ask... mostly because she's scared of the answer." you chuckle awkwardly. "Derek and Spence, well I guess they're like you too... but you're here, and they're not... so here we are."
Hotch appraises you for a second, but he doesn't say much else. You're grateful for that, but equal parts annoyed that he wasn't leaping to tell you that you were harder to read than you thought. No such luck. Still, you're surprised when Hotch grabs you by your arm, much gentler than earlier, and he's slowing his stride to be in step with yours. You don't realize you've leaned fully into his side until you feel him tense up. He doesn't say anything though.
A win is a win.
You didn't know much about the inner workings of Aaron Hotchner's mind, but you did know that if he was uncomfortable with your proximity, he would have said so. The walk back to Hotch's car is silent. At least outwardly, inside you were panicking. He opens the passenger side for you, and you imagine a world where this was normal. Where it didn't take you being hit on by sleazy men at a bar to be having these moments with Hotch. But it was impossible.
"Did it hurt?" you ask, once the car is moving. He's adjusted the temperature, a soothing warm pooling from the vents. You're surprised at how quickly he drives, you'd half expected him to be one of those slow as molasses drivers. Hotch looks over at you incredulously, his eyebrows raise, but he doesn't look agitated nor annoyed with you breaking the silence again.
"You'll have to be more specific." he replies, and you hum. You pause for a second, trying to find the right words. At the last second you decide saying it straight would be just as good as anything else.
"Punching that guy?" you ask, and Hotch's lips quirk upwards, he was amused with you. In truth, he had no idea what he was thinking. As soon as the girls had ushered you away, he'd found himself swinging before he could think of the repercussions. All he knew was that you'd sounded scared, you'd sounded unlike yourself in a way that made him angry. Everyone saw how you had changed, the elephant in the room was hard to ignore. But you were trying, he could give you that.
"No." he mumbles, and that likely has a lot to do with the fact that he hasn't come down. He's still on edge, still watching you like you might at any moment start spiraling. "Besides, it was worth it." and he says this a bit under his breath, you hear it all the same. "I doubt he'll try it again." he admits, and you feel liberated. It was nice to have someone fighting for you, fighting the fights you weren't capable of.
"Thanks, Hotch." you hum, and it triggers a yawn.
"Back to Hotch?" he asks, and you look over at him confused. You kick your feet back and forth, careful not to dig your heels into the plush of the car's floor.
"Would you prefer I call you sir?" you ask, and he is tapping on the brake, the car slowly peeling to a stop as you come up on a red light.
"No." he answers sternly. "It's not like you." he admits, and the light is turning green again. He steps lightly on the gas, the car surging forward "Especially if you're only calling me Sir, as payback for me calling you Agent." he says, and even though you had tried your hand at pretending the greeting hadn't bothered you, it was obvious he had read right through you.
"Why'd you do that?" you question and your tone is a lot more clipped than you had intended.
"So it did offend you?" he retorts, and you feel anger flaring up. You swallow this feeling, hands balling up by your side.
"Hotch." you snap, and he smirks fully, eyes back on the road. "Can you be serious, please?" you ask, and you probably sound pitiful.
"The last month I've just been..." he trails off momentarily, and you wonder if he's emotional, or just being dramatic. "I should have known better." he expresses. "I should've been there to make sure that what happened didn't." he says, and you tense up. "He never should have gotten the chance to get close enough to cart you off." he completes his thought, and you're shocked. You never would have guessed Hotch blames himself for what happened to you.
"That wasn't your fault." you promise, and you mean it. You'd never once thought of blaming Hotch for what went down. "You were confident in the plan, you were putting your faith in the team."
"There is a very thin line between confidence and arrogance." He rebuttals instantly. "We got cocky, and you suffered because of it." he looks so destroyed as he says this. "And then you showed up tonight, and tried to pretend everything was fine." he notes as you remain silent. "It just reminded me that we're too close." he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "The longer you stay in the unit, the more you become numb to the things we see. You start to ignore the signs that you're not alright." he says, and you'd never thought of it that way.
"Hotch..." you exhale.
"I called you Agent to set up a boundary, or at least I tried." he says this like he's beating himself up. "But then I saw the way it hurt you." and he looks ashamed. "And I never want to be someone who does that to you." you're warring with your heart then. "So I wont do it again." he promises, and he looks to you briefly. "I'll call you by your name, I won't deflect." he adds as your mouth drops open just briefly.
"But, it's not right for someone your age to be so closed off. It's not right for you to pretend to be okay just to keep up with the people around you. If you weren't up to being out, you should've stayed home, our opinions don't outweigh your safety." he lectures you. "They never will." he adds a second after, and he's so sure as he says this. He's slowing down, coming up on your place.
Your leg is shaking slightly, that pesky feeling of anxiety creeping back up on you. "We're here." he says under his breath as if you weren't aware. You don't budge, you can't. You have so much to say, but where do you start. Hotch has shut his car off, almost like he too has a lot sitting on the tip of his tongue.
"I just wanted to prove I could handle it." you admit, and you're crying. "I didn't want to be another Gideon or Elle... or Spence." you cringe at the memories. "I didn't want you guys to handle with me with kid gloves. I didn't want you to see me as the girl who needs the kid gloves." you express honestly, and now your tears are falling in quick precession. "I'm sorry..." you swipe at your face. "I don't know why I'm crying, this is so stupid." you hiss at yourself.
"No, it isn't." the response earns him a surprised glance. "It's good... this is good." Hotch is quick to use a hand to swipe at your tears. He hates the sight of them, but loves what they mean. Your heart's still soft, pliable. You haven't fully succumb to the horrors of the job. "Consider this me atoning." he prompts. "You have my ear, say whatever you need to say." he looks over at you again, and seems to mentally backtrack. "If it'll help you." he adds.
You sniffle audibly, hands clenching and unclenching as the car suddenly feels much too hot. "It's not your fault, okay?" you repeat, and you say it with more certainty. "I just need you to know that." you sniffle again, but your tears keep falling, even as you try to blink them away. "Hotch, you're our leader for a reason, and you were there to save me that night, and you were here to save me tonight." you remind him. "I don't want you to pull back, not when I'm finally making some progress with cracking that hard exterior of yours."
Hotch's lips quirk at your words, and he looks down at his lap. "I've never meant to pull back from you." the inflection with the last words sticks. "I thought I was doing right by you... pulling the band aid off before you got in too deep." he says. "But that was wrong of me, I can admit to that. I'm sorry." and his apologies are like kisses. They wash over you, and force you to believe him.
"Don't apologize to me." you plead, "Just promise not to leave me behind, treat me like an outsider again." you continue as his head nods, and you can trust that he's listening.
"I can do that." he promises.
That seems to be the key to unlocking the dam of your emotions. You choke on the feelings, a quiet sob escaping you as you clasp a hand over your mouth. How dramatic, and pathetic, and God awful were all these feelings. But they'd been years in the making, right?
"Are you alright?." he asks under his breath, worry palpable.
"Do you know that the only thing that kept me from losing it that day was you?" you ask, and your boldness won't leave you, clearly it was now or never. "You told me to 'keep breathing'... you said it over and over and over, and I listened." you explain, and he remembers the day too well. "Even though everything hurt like hell, and there was so much blood." you reminisce. "And I don't know, maybe I'm just crazy, but there was this look." you exhale sadly. "This look you had on your face that made me think... 'maybe it's not just me'"
It isn't. He knows that instantly. You've plagued his mind so severely for so long that he can just barely remember a time where you weren't one of the only things he thought about, worried about, cared about. But he had his post to think about, he was the Unit Chief, your boss, your superior. What would the team think? What would Strauss think? Did it matter? In the grand scheme of things, did those worries outweigh his need, his innate desire to see you safe and protected from harm? Absolutely not. So what was the real problem?
"Hotch..." you inhale deeply, voice cracking distractingly as he gives you his full attention. Something you'd dreamed of, wanted more than anything since the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him. "Aaron." you correct, and you breathe again. "I've been thinking of how to say this... i've been rehearsing it over and over again, because I wanted to get it right, and I just knew tonight would be the night I'd have to have the balls to either say it or let it go forever." you admit.
"Say it..." and he's rushing you, but you suppose that's deserved. You were still stalling, dragging this out way more than you needed to.
"I'm in love with you." and it was out there, and you couldn't take it back. You stare him down, worried about his reaction, about how he would respond. "And it took me getting hurt, and being sent home, away from the team for me to realize." you inhale shakily. "I kept having these-these dreams about that night. All these different scenarios about how things could've turned out different, how I could've died had one thing been out of place." you process.
"You're the reason I'm still here, you're the reason why this team can function, and you're the reason why I- why I came tonight even though my anxiety told me it wasn't safe. Because, somehow I knew that as long as you were here... I'd be okay, and I am." you say, and it's a lot, too much maybe. His reaction is hard to read at first, face just as stoic as most times, but his eyes.... his eyes hold the truth. They melt, pools of warm honey dancing in the darkness residing there.
"And it's inappropriate... and wrong... and silly... but- I couldn't go another day without you knowing, without you hearing from me." you explain. "When you came up to the bar tonight I just... I've never felt this way before... lucky, protected, safe.... and-and I'm not asking for anything from you... I'm not expecting something in return, I just wanted to get it out there... I think we both know it's been a long time coming..." and your words are being swallowed as Aaron leans forward. The middle console is a bridge, a roadblock.
It doesn't deter him though, not from using a hand to gently cup your face, mouth slotting against yours as if it belonged there. You're dizzy, shocked, surprised, but you don't let this mess you up. You can't possibly allow anything to mess up this moment. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two... the seconds tick by with neither of you moving to break the kiss, hands and tongues and breaths fanning over one another as you get acquainted in the most perfect way.
Still, life dealt lots, and yours consisted of a need for oxygen. It's the only reason why you break apart with heady gasps, eyes dilated and fogged with emotions much too heavy to really explain. "Oh, you can't do that." you explain, and Hotch's bemused, eyebrows raising upwards, as his thumb brushes over your cheekbones.
"I can't?" he asks, and he sounds so much lighter now.
"No, you can't. I'll get the wrong idea, you know." you explain, and he smiles brazenly at your callback to earlier. "I'll actually believe you're in love with me or something." you say, and Hotch is slow as he leans back in, a peck being placed right on your lips as your eyelashes flutter, and your heart beats out of control.
"We can't have that, can we?" he's following your lead with the callback, and your cheek presses into his palm.
"I don't know." you answer, and your voice is faint. "I'm scared this'll be a dream." you proceed as Hotch's eyes scan over your frantic face. "I'll wake up and find out that this was all in my head, and the only memories I get to hold on to are from that night." Hotch's lips purse, head shaking in denial as you inhale shakily.
"No, not this time. an ambitious remark. "This time it's real." he promises. "This time I'm here with you to make sure that all those things you felt that night, and earlier by the bar, are how you keep feeling about me." he answers truly. "I'm here to love you back for as long as you'll have me. Is it alright for me to feel that way?" he asks, and your hand jumps up to keep his squished in place against your face.
"You can feel however you want." you reply, and he laughs, a full blown chuckle escaping him as his face seems to light up like a thousand suns. His eyes glisten, twinkling as he looks down at you, like everything was right in the world. And to him it was. Nothing and nobody could hurt you here.
"Good. Then I choose whatever this between you and I leads to, I choose the feelings that come with that." You smile grows to an almost blinding brightness as you reach across the console to hug him, and pull him into your arms. He's quick as he presses a peck to the top of your head, eyes still dancing over you as if he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe he was, that part wasn't your business, all you knew was that loving Aaron was easy, it could be.
A long time coming, but a wait well worth it. Lucky you.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner#hotch#aaron hotch x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch x y/n#hotch imagine#hotch smut#aaron hotch hotchner#ssa aaron hotchner#thomas gibson#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#hotch angst#criminal minds scenario#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x you#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic
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Spencer’s Double Shift
Dad!Spencer finishes a case only to find out he can’t go home to his wife (reader) and daughter as they have another case in New York. (fluff)
word count: 2.5k
tags: dad!spencer, mom/fem!reader, parents, parenting, New York, behavioural analysis unit, date night, early birthday dinner, halloween mention, fbi, plane ride, first plane ride, subtle sex mention, fluff, marriage, married with kid, work, fear of flying, comforting.
no warnings
notes: I don’t really like the title of this but oh well, this is the first time I’ve written with the reader so its not amazing sorry. Hope you enjoy!
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Spencer had been away for three days working on a difficult case but there wasn’t a day he hadn’t called you before starting and ending his day. He told you he had been calling because he missed you but you know it’s really because he missed your perfect daughter.
You and Spencer had the most gorgeous daughter, Delilah Reid, she’s four years old and a total daddy’s girl, she asks you multiple times a day if she can call when Spencer is away working on a case and when you explain to her why she can’t call it makes her cry but she stops when you remind her that her daddy saves lots of people. He is her hero.
Spencer had texted you a few hours ago to let you know he was now boarding the plane to come home as well as telling you he missed both you and Delilah and couldn’t wait to kiss you so when you saw his call coming through on your phone you weren’t surprised.
“Hi Spence,” You said into the phone as you went around the house putting Delilah’s toys away, “Good flight?”
“Hi baby, yeah good flight but I have some bad news,” Spencer replied running his hand through his fluffy curls.
“You have to stay late and do reports?” You groaned into the phone.
“Worse, Hotch got another call on the flight, bad case in New York, we leave in 2 hours. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay honey, it’s not your fault,” You were glad you weren’t FaceTiming right now because the massive frown on your face would make him feel worse and he didn’t deserve that.
“Can I be the worst husband ever right now and ask a favour of you?” Spencer asked.
“You’re hardly the worst husband. Shoot.”
“Could you bring me some clean clothes to swap over in my overnight bag and please bring Delilah I miss her so much I feel like I’m missing everything.”
“I can do that of course, I want to see you I miss you. You aren’t missing much with Delilah except a very messy playroom and a few princess stories at night.”
“Not the princess stories they are my favourite.”
You laugh, “Alright Spence, I’ll bring one for you to read to her before you leave.”
“Deal. Don’t be too long I miss you,” You can practically see Spencer’s pout just by hearing his tone.
“You need to let me hang up then.”
“Fine, be quick, I love you and be safe,” he blew a kiss into the phone making your heart flutter.
“I love you too, extra safe I promise,” You said before hanging up and getting his things together for him.
You knocked on the door of your daughter’s bedroom lightly to see if she was still napping, after getting no sleepy response from her you opened the door quietly climbing into the bed beside her as much as you could with the little space.
“Baby,” You stroke one of the brunette strands of her hair from her face.
“Mommy? Is Daddy home?” She mumbled sleepily to you.
“No baby, we are going to visit Daddy at work. Do you want to pick a book for him to read to you?” You played with the ends of her wavy hair.
“Really? I love Daddy’s work! Yeah, I pick a book,” she says trying to scramble out the duvet.
“Daddy’s got more people to help though baby so we can’t stay too long, just until he has to leave.”
Delilah pouts, “But mommy I miss Daddy he’s been away like a million days.”
You laugh, “I know baby, he’s sorry and so am I but we can do some fun things.”
“He’ll be back for Halloween?”
“Yes he will be back before Halloween sweetie,” You kissed her head, “Get ready and we will leave.”
“Can I stay in my fluffy pyjamas? Please,” Delilah dragged out the ‘e’ at the end of please.
“If you want to,” You smiled at your daughter picking her up to help her off the bed so she could pick a book to take.
——————
You helped Delilah get out of the car and passed her the princess book before swinging Spencer’s bag onto your shoulder and carrying Delilah at the same time.
You signed in at reception, Spencer had called to tell them you were dropping by, usually, they don’t let people come in without an employee badge but you had become friends with the receptionist after the many times you had dropped by to see Spencer in the times you were dating and while you had been married.
Once you were in the elevator you put Delilah down, she couldn’t get lost going from the elevator to the bullpen since they were opposite each other and she had been there enough times to know the way.
When the doors opened you spotted Spencer waiting on the other side of the open glass door. He knew his daughter would run out once she saw him and that’s exactly what she did. The small girl let go of your hand and ran towards her Dad the book still in her hand.
“Daddy!” She squeaked, you walking not far behind watching them as they collided in a hug.
“Hi Princess,” Spencer picked her up and spun her around. Hotch, Emily and JJ were watching from across the room smiling. Emily could see how much happier Spencer was as soon as he was talking to you or back with both you and your daughter.
“You should let him bring them to New York with us and maybe give him a day off while we are there,” Emily whispered to Hotch.
“I’ll speak to him about it,” Hotch spoke while nodding.
“I missed you, Daddy, don’t go, why do you keep leaving me and Mommy?” Delilah pouted with tears in her eyes.
Spencer held Delilah’s hair out of her face placing kisses over her face, “I’m sorry baby, I don’t want to leave you.”
You sighed seeing the tears almost spilling from Delilah’s eyes, “Honey I told you Daddy saves people.”
“But what if I need him,” Delilah started crying both your and Spencer’s hearts breaking as well as the others watching.
“Reid,” Hotch called Spencer signalling for him to come over.
Spencer tried to pass Delilah over to you but the girl cried harder refusing to let go of him.
“You can all come,” Hotch said walking up the stairs towards the office.
Once you entered with your husband and daughter who had stopped crying Hotch smiled, “Emily made a point to me that you haven’t been at your best recently being apart from your wife and daughter and proposed I talk to you about bringing them to New York with us, that way we can call you when we need but you can also do some exploring and be with your family,” Hotch said.
“Really? That would be great!” Spencer said.
“That really would be, thank you, Aaron,” You said.
“We will pick you up in an hour on the way to the jet.”
“The only thing is Delilah has never flown before, I don’t want her to get upset and distract you from your case,” You added.
“She’s no bother.”
“I’m a big girl I will be fine I going to eat a big pizza,” Delilah squealed, “Let me go Daddy I need to tell Auntie Emily and Auntie JJ,” she gasped, “Can we visit Nana and Auntie Elle and her girlfriend and her kitten too!”
“Slow down baby, we need to go home and get ready before we can do anything,” You crouched down to pull Delilah into a hug.
“Kay Kay, me and Daddy make plans on the plane!”
You all laughed before Spencer ruffled her hair with his hand, “Okay little princess.”
The three of you went back to your house to get ready, you already felt a little stressed about how little time you had to pack. Packing usually took you at least a day to make sure you had a list of everything you needed and you weren’t leaving anything behind.
Spencer stood behind you rubbing your shoulders, “I can tell you’re stressed.”
“Sorry, I just don’t know what to pack. What’s the weather going to be like? What are we going to do there? Fancy or casual dinners? I guess casual because Lilah is with us,” You rambled.
“We won’t be there more than four days, the weather is the right temperature for jeans and t-shirts, pack a jumper for the mornings, maybe take a coat in case it rains one day but nothing too thick,” he helps you out.
“Thank you, Baby,” You grab his face leaving a gentle peck on his lips before returning to your suitcase to finish your packing while Spencer went to help Delilah.
——————
You sat opposite Delilah and Spencer sat beside her on the private jet. The small brunette had her small hands on either side of the window watching the takeoff and the city becoming several long fluffy clouds.
“It’s pretty!” Delilah gasped.
“Yeah, it is isn’t it?” You replied.
“Daddy, do you want to see too?” Delilah asked him.
“I’ve seen it lots of times, you enjoy it,” He ran his hand over her hair before moving to sit next to you.
“Hi,” You move a little closer to him in the seat.
“Hi,” He takes your hand and laces your fingers together.
You rest your head on his shoulder your eyes fluttering closed for a second as he rubbed his thumb on the back of his hand.
“Are you okay?” He asked. You were sometimes a nervous flyer but you didn’t want to show it right now especially in front of your daughter for her first flight.
“I’m doing fine, this plane shakes less than a commercial aircraft,” You glanced up at him smiling.
“I didn’t get to give you a proper hello earlier,” Spencer leaned his head down connecting his lips with yours in a quick kiss that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by the young brunette girl.
“EW!” She shouted rather loudly, “You guys can’t kiss!”
“Why not? We love each other,” Spencer tells Delilah, “And you need to be a bit quieter baby. They are working,” He points to his team.
“It’s gross to kiss,” Delilah stuck her tongue out.
Spencer gave your lips one last quick peck before grinning at Delilah who was sitting with her arms folded and pouting.
Around halfway through the flight, the plane hit a small rough patch of turbulence making you panic slightly and Delilah started crying. Spencer wanted to comfort the both of you but you knew it was more important for him to look after your child and besides you always remembered the fact Spencer had told you about planes that they’re more likely to crash as you were taking off or as you are landing which made you feel a little bit better not by much but it was something.
You watched as Spencer moved Delilah onto his lap and rubbed her back trying to calm her down. When her breaths became more controlled he wiped the tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her nose whispering, ‘You’re okay baby I’ll always keep you safe,’ to her.
Seeing how he was with her always made your heart warm and melt in your chest, there really could be no better father for any child except maybe one that wasn’t in the FBI but you would never want anyone else as your husband or as Delilah’s father.
You left your seat to go to grab a coffee, Emily and JJ were standing by the coffee machine talking and quite obviously flirting. You were closer to JJ than you were to Emily but not for any reason other than JJ’s son Micheal and Delilah went to the same daycare.
“Hi,” You said squeezing around them to get a mug from the cupboard.
“Hi,” They replied at the same time before quickly turning their heads and smiling brightly at each other to acknowledge what they had just done.
You laughed, “Excuse me,” You directed at Emily who was standing by the coffee machine.
She moved to the side, “Is Delilah okay? We heard her crying, was it the turbulence?”
“Yeah she’s fine, she was just a little scared because she’s never experienced it before,” You answered with a small smile, “Spence calmed her down.”
“We saw, he’s an amazing dad. He was so good with Henry when he was younger too I’m so happy he has a kid of his own now,” JJ smiled.
Your smile grew hearing JJ say that. “He is an amazing dad,” You looked over at your husband, “He’s great. Spencer’s birthday is coming up and I really wanted to take him to dinner while we are in New York, Could you possibly watch Delilah tonight? It won’t be late because I know you will both have to be up early to start the case.”
“Oh yes! We’d love to look after her, she was so cute last time trying to read us her princess book,” Emily said.
“I might have to prep a few bits for the case but Em will be fine on her own with her she’s really good with the boys at home,” JJ said.
“Okay, thank you guys so much,” You took your coffee and returned to your seat.
——————
It was already 4:30 pm when the plane landed in New York and the hotel you were staying in was about 15 minutes away. Delilah had fallen asleep just before you went into the SUV, you were hoping she’d sleep until you got to the hotel so she’d be less irritable when you told her you and Spencer were going out for dinner.
You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder, “I have a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” Spencer raised his eyebrow in curiosity.
“I’m taking you out to dinner,” You ran your hand up and down his arm.
“Thank you, How come?” He had a big smile on his face.
“Early birthday dinner, Em and JJ are going to watch Delilah while we are out.”
“Do you think they can watch her a little longer after dinner too?” Spencer whispered into your ear.
Your cheeks clouded with blush and a little laugh left your mouth, “Stop that Spence.”
“I didn’t say anything wrong,” He said with a smug smile and a little smirk.
——————
You and Spencer walked into Carmine’s Italian restaurant hand in hand.
Once you were sat down at the table waiting for your food, he reached across the table and started drawing circles with his finger on top of your hand.
“Thank you for this,” He tucked your hair behind your ear with his other hand.
“Thank you for being you, you’re such a good Dad and husband Spence I don’t tell you enough. Happy early birthday,” You leaned across the table to kiss him.
“You tell me more than enough love but I don’t think I tell you enough that you’re an amazing Mom and wife I don’t what either of us would do without you.”
Once your food arrived you ate and made small talk together until going back to the hotel to collect your beautiful daughter from JJ and Emily.
#criminal minds#bi spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid edit#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#dad spencer reid#mom reader#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#jemily#jemily fanfiction#jemily fic#bisexual jennifer jareau#jennifer jareau#lesbian emily prentiss#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner
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Retirement | [A.H]
Pairing: Retired!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: Nothing but cuteness
A/N: Don't worry, Hotch is not an old man he's like late 50's early 60's in this based on Jack being in college ;)
The porch was bathed in the golden light from the afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the wooden planks. The gentle creak of the rocking chair kept rhythm with the distant hum of cicadas, a sound that had become so familiar it felt like part of the air itself.
A soft breeze carried the scent of summer—freshly cut grass, the lingering sweetness of honeysuckle climbing the trellis, and the faint, smoky remnants of the firewood stacked near the house.
You leaned against Hotch’s chest, his arms loosely draped around your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns on your bare legs. The warmth of him seeped into you. You let out a content sigh, snuggling further into his chest.
It had been six months since he left the BAU. Six months of long walks through the countryside, of mornings spent in bed with no reason to rush, of rediscovering a man who had spent years sacrificing himself for the safety of others.
At first, the transition had been difficult. Aaron had been hesitant, unsure of who he was outside of the job, as though his identity had been stitched together by the cases, the late nights, the endless chase of justice.
He had been restless, waking up at odd hours as though his body still expected the call of duty. Some nights, you had found him on the porch, staring into the darkness, lost in thought. And other's you had found him sitting in the kitchen, his phone open on either JJ or Emily's contact in his phone, debating whether he should check in and see how everything was going without him.
But in this almost sanctuary you had built together, he had begun to unravel—layer by layer, breath by breath. The sharp edges of stress had softened, the lines around his mouth no longer weighed down by exhaustion. He still carried the past with him, no doubt he'd always have it with him, but it no longer defined him.
Your legs stretched over his lap, the warmth of his hands resting against your skin. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your knee, and you smiled, closing your eyes as the wind tousled your hair.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, edged with that lingering gravel that had always made your stomach flip.
You hummed in response. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You tilted your head back, meeting his eyes. The sunlight hit them just right, turning the brown into something lighter, warmer. “How much I love you.”
His lips twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing as he squeezed your thigh. “You always get sentimental when we sit out here.”
“Can you blame me?” you teased, running your fingers through the graying strands at his temple. “Look at this. It’s peaceful. I never thought we’d have something like this.”
He exhaled, long and slow. “Neither did I.”
There was something about the way he said it, the weight behind the words, that made your chest tighten. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Are you happy, Aaron?”
His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his gaze soft but intent. “More than I ever thought possible.”
You kissed his shoulder, letting the moment stretch, settling into the quiet contentment that came so easily now.
You tilted your head slightly against him, voice soft as you asked, "How's Jack?"
Aaron exhaled, a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he continued tracing patterns against your skin. "I talked to him yesterday," he said, his voice warm with pride. "He sounds happy. Settling into college well, making friends. He even mentioned joining an intramural soccer team."
Your smile widened at that. "That’s wonderful. He always did love playing." You recalled the games Aaron had invited you to when Jack was only a young boy
Hotch nodded, the tension he once carried about Jack leaving for college no longer evident in his expression. "He said his classes are challenging but interesting. And he likes his professors."
You ran your fingers gently along his arm, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your cheek. "He’s thriving, then. Just like you wanted."
Aaron let out a quiet chuckle. "Just like we wanted. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. I think Haley would be proud."
You squeezed his hand, understanding the weight of his words. "She would be. You’ve raised a good man, Aaron."
His thumb brushed over your knuckles, silent gratitude passing between you. You let the moment settle between you, filled with warmth and love.
A rustling sound caught your attention, and when you glanced to the side, a small smile pulled at your lips. “Aaron,” you whispered, nudging him lightly. “Look.”
He followed your gaze, and there, across the wooden railing of the porch, a handful of ladybugs had gathered, their tiny, spotted bodies crawling along the grain of the wood. One took flight, landing on your outstretched hand.
Hotch chuckled. “Looks like you’re a favorite today.”
You watched the little insect as it wandered across your palm. “You know, my grandmother used to say ladybugs were good luck.”
“Did she?” He tilted his head, watching as another landed near his wrist. “Mmhm.” You met his eyes, a teasing glint in yours. “I think it’s a sign.” He arched a brow. “Of what?”
“That this—” you gestured around you, at the house, the land, the life you had built together— “was always meant to be.”
His expression softened. He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers. “I don’t need a sign to know that.”
A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sounds the distant chirping of birds, the whisper of leaves rustling in the breeze, and the steady rise and fall of Aaron’s breath. He had a way of making the world feel smaller, simpler—of making you feel like the only thing that mattered.
“Jack texted earlier by the way,” he murmured after a moment, remembering something he had forgotten to tell you when you asked about him. “Said he wants to come up next weekend.”
Your heart warmed at the mention of a visit. “That sounds perfect. Maybe we can take him fishing.”
Hotch’s lips quirked. “You still think you can out-fish me?”
You grinned. “Oh, I don’t think—I know.”
He chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. “We’ll see about that.”
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of orange and pink, you leaned back against him, letting the moment settle deep into your bones.
The world felt softer here, free of the chaos and darkness that had once consumed so much of your lives.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction#aaron hotchner au#retired!hotch#criminal minds#hotch#criminal minds x reader#hotch thoughts#hotchner#x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [HALF ASLEEP TAKIN' CHANCES] ❞
pairing: hotch x sitter!reader. summary: there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man. content warnings: disgustingly cute fluff word count: 1,1k a/n: requested by baby boy @starch1ldz
When Aaron offered to financially help with Jessica and Haley’s father he didn’t think through about how much time would be a new issue, with him around Jessica had no time to come and babysit Jack like before, especially in a rush.
Jack was older, sure, but that didn’t mean Aaron was about to leave a 10-year-old alone while he was working–that’s why there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter.
Trustworthy, smart enough to help his boy with homework and school projects, available to sleep in and possibly not an eye/hr was a tough find, but with Garcia’s help… He found you.
It’s about 3AM when he finally gets home this time around, 11 days melting away in Texas, communicating with you through texts and facetiming with Jack every morning for at least a few minutes being his saving grace, his breath of fresh air when evil corners him in.
Aaron expects to find a dark, quiet living room when his keys hit the door, he expects to gulp down some scotch, check on Jack from afar and then drop to his bed.
Instead, he is met with lights from the ceiling and from the TV that is blasting what appears to be a Spider-Man cartoon. Out of habit he frowns, quietly closing and locking the door behind him and leaving his bag on the floor. His steps towards the TV are as silent as possible against the wood of the floor, not that it would matter with all the noise coming from it.
Glancing the room before turning it off he is surprised by what he thinks it’s the most beautiful image he has seen in the longest time. You and Jack both asleep on the couch. Jack is facing the TV, but one of his arms are hugging one of yours fiercely. Your nose is up his hair, your other arm under the both of you and he doesn’t know how you haven’t felt it numb yet. Aaron leans into the wall careful not to make any noise, desiring nothing more than to take in this moment just a little bit more. The beauty in it, the peace and quiet.
He wishes he could take an actual picture without being a creep, but he will settle for a mental one for now. For some time all Aaron could think about was his boy, his happiness, his safety, his comfort, and Jack found it so easily in you that it was impossible for Aaron to not feel the same. You were warm, welcoming… Kind.
The sudden lack of sound when he turns the TV off wakes you up and you luckily have the self control not to get up in a startle, looking up with a smile and half opened eyes, your voice as low as possible not to spook the not so little one beside you in case he also ended up waking up.
“You’re home early.” You tease, sleepiness lacing your words, adoration clear in your eyes.
Aaron only grins, crouching in front of his boy to admire his creation a bit more, safe and sound like that, he passes his hand through Jack’s forehead and hair to wake him up which he does in a jump much more loudly than yourself, hugging his dad happily.
“Hey buddy, let’s get you to bed?” At ten Jack isn’t as easy to carry as he once was, but Aaron still does it, especially when he’s this sleepy, especially when he hasn’t seen him in days. He hugs him tightly and softly strokes his hair as he takes him to his bedroom.
Jack wants to tell him all about his day, about his week and the cartoon he was watching just before he fell asleep, but Aaron is quick to remind him of the time, turning off his night lamp and kissing his forehead goodnight. He’s sure the boy is sound asleep once more before he even leaves the room.
He’s finally able to get his tie off of him, leaving it on the table as he gets you and himself scotch, his jacket is already buried in his go bag, not once having been worn in San Antonio’s heat. He hands you the glass, fingers brushing lightly before he settles himself leaning into the back of the couch.
“Was he difficult today?” His question almost breaks your heart, for as long as you know Jack, he has never been difficult, especially considering everything he’s been through at such a young age. But you understand his query means well and is about the fact Jack wasn’t in his bed at such late hours.
“Never difficult.” You answer it quickly, taking a sip of the scotch, it’s a bit too strong to you at most times, but you enjoy it before bed and the taste reminds you of Hotch. “He’s just been a bit… Skittish since the framing incident… Some nightmares. It happens less when he falls asleep with me first before going to bed.”
It almost feels like Aaron could cry at any minute at your revelation, a very different sight to what you’re used to from him. He’s very much the strong alpha male, unbreakable, a survivor, the most you get from him is his dry humor and the occasional opening up about his past–which you already adore–but the way his eyes glisten right now is completely… New.
You care, it’s in your job description, in your resume, in your heart. So you take two steps too close, your free hand going to his cheek as if its warmth could be enough to help him feel better. And it is, he leans into it, his eyes closed, his hand holding your wrist.
“He’s fine, really. Doing great in school, excited for therapy days. Don’t make that terrible guilty father face. You’re a great dad, my salary attests to that.” You’re almost ashamed at the feeling you get when you’re able to make him laugh, but you’re definitely ashamed at how you mourn the feeling of his hand when he drops your wrist and you feel obligated to drop your hand. You finish the rest of the scotch in a mouthful and he does the same.
“Thanks for being here so much, Jack needs it. To be honest, I need it.” Aaron’s not even sure what he’s really admitting to, he just knows life has been incredibly easier and stable since you began taking care of Jack, and he feels silly for feeling the way he does, because he knows it’s your job, but he hopes his profiler abilities aren’t failing him when he looks into your eyes.
“Well, thanks for hiring me.” Your answer is merely a joke, used to hide your red cheeks and the way one of your hands went straight to your necklace, playing with it nervously.
Aaron notices it, he smiles to himself but doesn’t do anything about it. For now it’s enough to come home and find you safe and sound sleeping embraced with his boy. If anything more comes of it, he’ll let future Aaron make something of it.
#lari writes sometimes#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch imagine#hotch scenario
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Pretending ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 25, oct.
(late post)
— pairing: Aaron Hotchner x love affair!reader
— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)
— kink: deepthroating
— summary: Hotch is trying to teach you a new blowjob method, but things are not that easy when you are still sexually inexperienced.
— word count: 1.0k
— tags/warnings: kinktober 25th day, female!reader, intern!reader, rough!Hotch (BUT NOT REALLY), soft!Hotch, deepthroating, rough oral sex (male receiving), mild dubcon, degradation, aftercare, accidental orgasm denial, praise kink, curse words, mild verbal humiliation, mild dumbification, corruption kink, cooking, dacryphilia, crying, college student!reader, married!Hotch, age gap (older man/younger woman), BAU member!reader, jealous!Hotch, gagging reflex, sex gone wrong, fluff, inexperienced/innocent!reader, secret relationship, cheating, referenced infidelity, minor Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner, implied Derek Morgan x reader, implied Spencer Reid x reader, bittersweet ending, dom!Hotch, sub! reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.
— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917
— crossposting: AO3
"Watch your damn teeth, girl. I've already warned you once and you can be sure I won't even warn you if there's a third." Hotch growled as your beautiful eyes filled with tears at the feeling of his cock pushing its way into your mouth.
Your jaw felt like it was going to rip in half, wide enough so that your teeth would not scrape painfully against Hotch's sensitive skin. Your body was lying on your back on the bed, which was quite high and made the position easier for the new experience. Your head tilted back as Hotch was right there, trying to take his length in carefully. He knew it was not a very comfortable position for either of you and it would probably be difficult for you to deepthroating him like that, but he was interested enough to see the shape of his cock highlighted inside your delicate throat.
"F-fuck... Your little mouth's even tighter." His muffled moan echoed through your room when he pushed deeper, taking advantage of the new angle to hit the head of his cock in the back of your throat, causing you to suddenly gag. Your eyes widened and tried to move back down, but Hotch grabbed your neck, keeping you in place and taking the opportunity to squeeze the bulge that became clear as he continued thrusting, fucking your throat. You whimpered around Hotch's cock, filling him with goosebumps from the vibrations your lips made when you tried to explain explain with gestures about how this was already too much. "We've barely even started and you're already acting like a crybaby whore?"
A few minutes passed and every time Hotch was getting close to cumming, you gagged around him and tried to pull out.
"FUCK! What the hell, girl?" When Hotch saw you were starting to sob and cry hopelessly, he growled and pulled his cock out, watching you stand up and start coughing, your lungs thanking the world for the return of air. However, all it took was for your sad eyes to turn to Hotch for him to sigh, putting his black boxers back on and sitting on the bed, pulling you to snuggle into his chest, hearing you crying softly and feeling how your tears soaked his skin during the hug. You could not say anything coherent, but Hotch knew very well that you were feeling bad about not being able to give him a good deepthroat. "It's okay, darling. It's not a big deal, it was just a stupid kink that I wanted to try out with you. I was really so fucking horny and I took it out on you by being rude. I'm so sorry, little girl."
You shook your head, pouting your lips. "I-It's not a stupid kink, Sir. Any men likes deepthroating." You muttered with a frown. He was about to tell you to stop calling him by the name you always used within the BAU, when he was pretending to be just an agent mentoring a dedicated intern, but something caught his attention.
"Yeah? And since when do you know what men really like?" Hotch's husky voice caught you off guard and you looked down with shame. It was obvious that he knew that you had not done anything like this with other guy, after all, he had been the one to take your virginity a few weeks after your arrival at the internship at the BAU.
“Well, the guys at my college talk so much about sex very loud during the class…” It was all you said and he rolled his eyes. Damn it, he hated teenagers with raging hormones and especially frat boys.
Hotch cleared his throat, determined not to let you know he was jealous at the mere thought of your classmates trying to flirt with you on a daily basis. He wanted you in the office at all times, where he could watch you and make sure Morgan was not trying to ask you out or that Reid did not have an arousal every time you brought coffee to everyone's desks. "Anyway, we can try it again another day when you're more comfortable. In another position, maybe."
You smiled at Hotch's suggestion. "I'd love to try again in a few days, Sir... Sorry! Love, just love." You corrected yourself when you saw his frown at the unnecessary formality. Hotch chuckled lightly and got up from the bed, immediately followed by you. "You're leaving right now?" You asked worried, both because he had not cum yet that night and also because he was not even saying goodbye.
"What? Of course not, darling." Hotch defended himself, looking quite offended that you would even consider him to be so careless to you. "I'm gonna sleep here tonight, forgot? So now I'm just gonna make some hot tea to help your sore throat. Then we can watch some pathetic romcom movies and have sex later, but nothing too rough for now."
The teasing in his tone made you smile. Still naked, with your cheeks wet with tears and your lips swollen, you caressed your own neck to soothe the sore throat during the process, watching Hotch wearing only those black boxers and opening your cabinets to look for things to heat up some tea. You would love to see him like this every day, practically naked in your kitchen, looking like the real husband material's definition, cooking and spoiling you as an aftercare. You would love to have him as your boyfriend, as your husband, as the future father of your children... However, you knew that the next morning the lie would have to be maintained. You would have to keep pretending he was just a BAU agent, just your mentor. Hotch would have to keep pretending that he was loyal to his wife and son, and did not care about the cute young intern of the office.
Both of you would have to keep pretending that nothing was happening between you two and that you did not have sex often. Both of you would have to keep pretending you did not love each other.
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and then, just like clockwork.
part one tags: spencer reid x fem! reader. aaron hotchner x fem!reader. not really infidelity. p in v smut. they need couple's therapy. a/n: i could't sleep and churned this lil guy out. i hope u like it :) requests are open!
Aaron Hotchner has always been a man of logic. Pragmatic almost to a fault; an armor built over the decades. You, on the other hand, always lead with your heart. It was one of the things that made you so irresistible to a man like Aaron Hotchner. So, in some twisted way, he can understand how you found yourself in this situation. What baffles him the most is how he got into it himself.
Seated on an armchair, a glass of whiskey in hand. Trying so hard to ignore the pulse of his cock. Hot and heavy, hard under the tent of his slacks. He can’t help but watch. Mesmerized by the way your hips move. Hypnotized by the push and pull, the slide in and out of Spencer’s cock into your glistening pussy.
He can see it from where he’s seated. At the foot of the bed, sheets a wedding gift from your aunt. He can see the way you grind down onto the man and cock giving you your pleasure. He can see the way Spencer’s hands move up and down your body; waist and hips, a loving caress that makes this situation even more debauched than he’d expected.
Aaron takes a slow sip of his whiskey, the burn down his throat stung, almost like the scratches you left down his back earlier on.
He can’t remember when this whole thing started. He doubts you nor Spencer did either. All he could remember was walking into your apartment one night, finding you on your knees by the couch, Spencer’s cock in your mouth. He couldn’t remember why he went to your home in the first place. He can still picture the way Spencer looked up at him, eyes glazed over in a haze of lust, mouth parted and cheeks red. He remembers the way his cock throbbed at the sight.
And now, he continues to spectate. In your marriage bed, he always did his best to bring you your pleasure. It always got him off, seeing your post-orgasm glow. He loved to pleasure you. He never knew how much he’d love to see another man pleasure you.
“Aaron,” you moan, still riding Spencer’s cock like you needed it to live. Spencer lets out his own little moan. “Kiss me, please. Aaron,” you’re cut off by another moan. Eyes closing from the pleasure, Spencer’s lips and tongue lavishing attention on one of your nipples.
Aaron puts down his glass, tugging his underwear down his hips and thighs before crawling on the bed. Hands and knees dent the mattress as he moves towards you. Your back to his chest, his knees pressing against Spencer’s thighs. Aaron’s hands move to grip you around your jaw and chin, tilting your neck up so you can meet his lips. He kisses you like this; your neck bent backward, lips upside down against his. Spencer moans at the way your new position makes your stomach go taut, your stomach and curves defining like a Grecian painting.
Spencer Reid has always been called idealistic. His youth and eagerness made it easy to call him so. His idealism was what had you so drawn to him. He wonders what you would say if he confessed. With his back to the bed, he watches the way you lose yourself finding pleasure on his cock. He watches the way Aaron hovers behind you, thick fingers rubbing against your clit.
He always loved to plan and strategize. Concoct up plans for events that may never come to pass. It was a childhood pastime of his. He wonders what you would think if he told you he’s been picturing this exact moment since the day he met you.
He meets your eyes from above him. You have spit painting the corner of your mouth. You smile. And then he knew.
taglist: @aaronnnhotch feel free to send an ask if you wanna be added to my general taglist :)
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I'm Never Letting You Go- Spencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer X Reader)
Summary: Spencer has you worried that he won't want your baby and you don't know how to tell him. Warnings: Angst, brief mention of gun shots, yelling over a dangerous situation, fluff Based off of Season 4 Episode 5
Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!
"Woo, he's kicking. a lot today." JJ exclaims chuckling, hand on her every growing belly.
Spencer looks up from his case file before rambling, "In the third trimester, there is about thirty fetal movements per hour. Babies kick to explore movement and strengthen muscle."
JJ just stares at him dumbfounded, before asking, "Have you ever actually felt a baby kick?" She grabs Spencer's hand and places on the side of her belly, his face showing his confusion. JJ nods, as they both can feel the baby kick. "You feel that?"
"Does that freak you out?" Spencer whispers, quickly looking up at JJ then back down to where his hand was still be pressed to her belly.
"No, not at all." Her face, now showing confusion at his question, before looking at him teasingly. "Why does it freak you out?"
"Very much so," Spencer says as he rips his hand away and brings his attention back to his case file, earning a chuckle out of JJ.
You watch quietly, your own hand on your small baby bump. Your boyfriend of a year just said a baby kicking freaks him out. You couldn't wrap your head around the grossed look on his face while he said it. You didn't know if Spencer wanted kids, it somehow never came up and you were still unsure of when to tell him, but after he said that you weren't sure if anytime would be the right time.
Spencer was happy when JJ announced her pregnancy, but after that he wasn't himself when JJ was around. Always watching her curiously, like he was unsure if being himself was okay to do around the growing baby. He eventually became more relaxed and even did some research on babies, always spouting out information when he could, but he still wasn't fully acting like his adorably dorky self.
The pregnancy was a surprise for you and early on in your relationship with Spencer. You haven't officially told anyone in the BAU about your relationship, Spencer worried about getting in trouble and wanting to look professional. You understood what he meant, and it was easier to hide your relationship out in the field so you wouldn't be used against each other if an unsub caught you. It may have been easy to hide from others, but not the team. They easily found out but said nothing about it. It was killing them not to tease Spencer about it though, but they respected your privacy when you asked them not tell Spencer.
You tried to keep this a secret though but that proved challenging, especially when the morning sickness started. JJ had caught you red handed in the bathroom one morning, while Emily and Penelope figured it out after you declined wine after a tough case, which you never did. Soon Morgan, Rossi and Hotch found out, all promising to keep this a secret too from Spencer. They were all worried that you've yet to tell him and you were already showing, but with the case load being heavy, you've yet to spend any real alone time with Spencer especially since your belly started to grow, which was surprisingly fast.
But now you were really unsure about telling Spencer and Emily could see the frustration on your face when you walked out of the conference room.
-----
Spencer watched as JJ fanned herself with a case file as she rubbed her swollen belly with a small smile on his face, before turning around to realize Emily caught him, a smirk on her face as he tried to play it off like he was just looking around.
"You considering it?" She asks, Spencer looking up at her.
He looked at her, eyebrows furrowing. "Considering what?"
"Having baby geniuses one day." She looks confidently at him before it was replaced with a teasing glint in her eyes.
His face turns to one of consideration before the phone rings and he quickly answers it, glad to have a distraction from the question asked of him.
He didn't understand her question nor the sad look on her face after he dodged her question. She quickly got up while he was still on the phone, his eyes following her as she quickly made her way to you before whispering in your ear. You got up quickly, one hand covering your mouth and another your stomach as you ran to the bathroom, Emily hot on your heels.
Where you alright? Where you sick? Did Emily say something to you to make you so upset? What did Emily say anyways and why did she run right to you after asking him such a personal question.
Spencer didn't want to admit to himself that he did want a family, especially with you. It was still so early on in your relationship and your careers that he didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family. So, he did everything he could to deny his interest.
He just didn't want to lose you.
----
You were avoiding Spencer as the case went on. You knew it wasn't right or healthy but after seeing him showing disgust and zero interest babies, you just didn't know how to approach him. You were being dumb, and Rossi did let you know that.
"My sweet girl, you are starting to show, just tell the kid. You'll figure out what to do, no matter what he says." Rossi gave your hand a small squeeze. He was always soft with you, thinking of you like a daughter, though sometimes you could go without the hard parenting.
Emily reminded you that you all had them no matter if Spencer wanted to be in the picture or not.
You nodded, trying hard not to think about Spencer not being with you anymore. You loved him too much and you didn't want to lose him.
----
You were running top speeds towards the train, somehow beating Morgan to the train's ladder as you climbed up it, making your way to the top before taking off again as you made your way from one car to the next. Morgan was trying to catch up with you, yelling at you to be careful as he let the team know via his head set about what you were doing.
Spencer was worried, he knew you were upset with him, though he couldn't figure out why, but he didn't want you getting hurt, it would be something else you'd have to worry about with whatever he may have done.
"Hotch get her quick, she's too close for my liking!" Morgan yelled out.
"Oh my god, Morgan catch her!" Rossi screamed a second later, Spencer's heart stopped beating for a second waiting for news on if you were alright. Gun shots rang out and Spencer rubbed his hands over his face.
"All clear, we're safe." Morgan's voice rang out a few moments later.
Within the next half hour, he saw you make your way through the double doors, a frustrated look on your face while Morgan, Hotch and Rossi followed behind you, clearly upset and lecturing you.
Spencer ran over to make sure you were okay, but Morgan cut him off, stopping you in your tracks. "You're pregnant and you need to start looking out for the baby not just you." His voice was hard and loud, before continuing, his voice shaky. "If I wasn't there, you and your baby could have been hurt, or worse killed."
Spencer's feet had already stopped and he could feel his jaw slack and opened at Morgan's words. Your eyes grew wide as you saw him standing behind Morgan stunned.
"Oh Spencer..." You whispered before he took off running. You ran behind him, ripping your vest off as it constricted your belly.
You headed out into the night, the warm air slapping you as you came out of the cool building. "Spencer! Wait!" You yelled out, your legs still shaky from almost falling off the ladder of the caboose train before Morgan caught you.
Spencer suddenly stopped, almost causing you to run into him before he suddenly turned around and looking at you through tear filled eyes. His body shook and he went to point at you before bringing his hand down to his side. "Your pregnant?" His voice was barely a whisper but still strong.
All you could do was nod.
"How long have you known?"
You gulped, your eyes barely reaching his. "I'm a little over four months along."
"You've known for that long and you haven't told me?" He was furious now, tears streaming down his face as he stared at you.
You shook your head, tears starting to fall. "I didn't know how to tell you. You haven't shown any interest in wanting kids." The next part, you whispered, not wanting to think about the look he gave to JJ's moving belly. "You said it freaked you out."
He looked at you confused before his face softened as he looked at your broken face, tears falling down your face as you stared at the ground. He took a step forward before wrapping you in his arms. "Baby, no. I-I just said that and acted weird because I didn't want to scare you away with talks about wanting a family." You sobbed into his chest at that part, your short arms circling him. "I want nothing more than to be with you, start a life with you and have little geniuses running around." He chuckled, using what Emily had used to talk about his babies. Now he realized what she was hinting at.
You were pregnant. He was upset with you for hiding it, but he couldn't blame you for not knowing how to tell him, especially with how he acted. He stroked the back of your head, planting little kisses in your hair. "Are you sure you want to be a dad right now?"
He chuckled at how cute your mumbling in his chest was. He pulled away, putting both hands on the side of your face, forcing you to look at him, his smile wide. "Y/N, I couldn't think of a better time."
A smile crept onto your face, before he brought his lips to yours. "Thank you. I'm sorry I kept it from you." He just shook your head.
"There is nothing to apologize for, except for the amount of stress you put me under tonight going after that unsub." You laughed as you pulled him back into a hug. "Promise me that you'll be safer?"
"I promise." You mumbled, sleepiness starting to get to you.
After a few moments of silence, he pulled away from you, his eyes soft with curiosity. "Um- can I feel?" He looked and nodded down towards your belly.
You giggled at his nervousness as you finished taking off your vest, your hand naturally resting on the small bump that was showing through your tight tank top.
His hands shakily came to your sides as he knelt down before giving your belly a kiss then introduced himself as your baby's daddy, making you laugh aloud. A small movement in your belly stopped you, Spencer and you slowly looking at each other with wide eyes before you jumped up and down shrieking with joy, the team coming out of the station, worried something happened.
They watched as Spencer picked you up, twirling you around both of you laughing and shrieking with excitement at the growing life inside of you. Their smiles growing as they made their way over to the two of you to celebrate.
Spencer twirled you again as you kissed him before pulling back to look into each other's eyes.
I'm never letting you go, you both thought.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid scenarios#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#criminal minds penelope#jj criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#david rossi#bau team#derek morgan#aaron hotchner
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A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 3: X marks the spot
genre: finally some fluff! still some angst, but some fluff too!
word count: 5804
pairing: reader x spencer reid
description: you need spencer back home. so spencer comes back home. simple as that.
a muted shade of green masterlist
previous chapter // next chapter
author's note: you folks are amazing! thank you so much for the support and I know this chapter is a bit duller (aka famous filler chapter) but y/n needs a break from pain and suffering all the time lol <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!
“She knows who I am.”
That is the sentence that sets off Plan B.
Spencer’s instructions are clear: call Penelope and go to the BAU. Office Kaper is to stay with you at all times until you enter the FBI and even then, he will personally deliver you to her caring hands, and for once, you don’t argue. In what has been a very dark past few days, you think that Penelope’s bright colours might do you well. “I have to close the shop,” You tell him on the phone, already changing from your sleeping shorts into some jeans, but keeping his hoodie. Right now, you’re not focused on appearances; you’re focused on getting the hell out of there.
“That’s fine, but keep Officer Kaper with you. Was the envelope delivered to my place?”
“No,” You breathe out, backpack on and ready to go. Nodding to man that has become your loyal companion, the two of you walk out of the building like any civilian couple. It’s unsettling, watching a man that is not Spencer wear his clothes, but he had to blend in so you two didn’t stand out.
“And he’s wearing my clothes?”
You turn to look at Officer Kaper and you snort despite the situation. “As best as he can, though he is considerably shorter than you, Spence.”
“You’re calling me Spence,” He says, and even his voice sounds a bit more at ease. Somehow, in the midst of this craziness, you two find time to ease back into what once was and you manage a small smile despite the anxiety rushing through you. “I missed that.”
“I miss you,” Is what you say back, and you blame it on the adrenaline of being outside, so open and vulnerable to prying eyes. “I… I feel safer when you’re here.”
“I know,” You swear you hear something skin to a smile on his voice. “I’m on my way back.”
“Yeah, in like three days,” Talking on the phone and closing your shop is no easy feat. You’re no genius and having to split your focus onto two different tasks is quite hard, but you manage. You don’t want to let him go yet, scared that one you can’t hear his voice, he’ll be as good as gone.
“No, I’m on the jet right now, I should be landing in an hour.”
You shouldn’t feel this happy about having Spencer come back this soon and probably in the middle of an active case, but when a psychotic killer starts sending you handwritten letters, you feel entitled to being a little selfish, even if guilt and anxiety are mixed it like the perfect emotional cocktail. “You didn’t have to,” You say, biting your nails when you finally grab everything you need and lock the door behind you. “Spence, I– thank you.”
“You need me home,” Is all he says before announcing he has to go.
The silence doesn’t make things easier. Now that you don’t have to split your mind in two to multitask, you can fixated on the fact that this is serious. This is quite serious– Cat Adams has just confirmed she knows you. She has also, however, confirmed she does not know where you are, and just like you told yourself before, you have to believe that there is something better than this out there. There is a moment in time, reserved and crafted by the sisters of fate, in which Cat Adams gets bored with you. You are no longer a struggling rat under the weight of her paws, and she is no longer entranced by how you try to wriggle out of maniacal grasp. In another moment, another sliver of an alternate reality, Cat never even finds out who you are. You like that reality a bit better, because then you also don’t know who she is, and the knowledge of her presence and her impact on Spencer’s life is as weightless as a feather.
While the city passes by you, the taxi ride to the FBI not as quick as you’d like with the early morning traffic, you allow yourself one more scenario. One more reality.
In this one, you live in an apartment with muted green walls. Your furniture is that fancy, dark shade of oak and you don’t have to keep your books on the store; instead, you have space to add them to your decoration. You have shelves and shelves of books lining your walls and you think you’ve never seen anything more beautiful than that place. The windows, large and usually covered by cream blinds, are open to allow some sunshine inside. In this reality, you’ve told Spencer all about the benefits of sunlight to your books– none of them true, of course, but he still pretends to believe you, and he still opens the windows before leaving for work. This time around, you dream big– in this alternate life, Spencer never even met Cat Adams. He never even applied to the FBI, in this odd, hallmark version of your story. It doesn’t really matter what he does, but all that matters is that you get to be with him. You get to wake up next to him, to talk to him, to call him… hell, you even get to kiss him!
This reality, as utopian as it seems, it’s fragile, though. Unrealistic. Spencer loves his job, you know that now. A world where you keep him from it can’t truly be a perfect world, not when he’d be so, so unhappy without his team standing next to him. “Ma’am,” Officer Kaper calls. “We’re here.”
“Oh!” Grabbing your backpack, you follow him inside, feeling a bit awkward at the way people started at your with puzzled looks on their faces. “Wait! Before you leave, this is for you! You mentioned your daughter likes stories and that she’s about five or so, so these should be fun!” Children’s book is one of your secret passions, and you’re happy to see him smiling as he looks through the titles.
“You really didn’t have to, Miss Y/L/N.”
“I really wanted to, though,” You smile. You need some light in your life as you walk those beige hallways. “Let me know if she wants more– her dad is a hero, so we have a special deal at the store for you.”
“I’ll tell little Jane that a very nice lady from work gave her new books then,” He says, nodding as Penelope rushes to your side. “Call me if you need anything else, Miss Y/L/N, I’m happy to help. If it makes you feel better, you’ve been dealing with this exceptionally well. It can’t be easy.”
The validation has you pursing your lips, trying to hold back the need to hug him. In no way, shape, or form are you two close– to be honest, this is the most you’ve spoken with Officer Kaper during the forty-eight hours you spent together; and yet, his opinion seems to mean something to you. Your hands hide behind your back and you exhale sharply, nodding at him, eyes glassing over with emotion. “Thank you,” You whisper, head whipping at the familiar sound of heels waddling down the hall. “I’ll uh, I’ll go… but thank you. For everything.”
He just nods, leaving with a wave and a smile.
“Either you joined the FBI since we last saw each other or this sweatshirt belongs to a certain genius man,” Penelope says, looking at you with the ghost of a smile. If you didn’t know any better,
“What? Oh. Yeah, I borrowed it from Spence,” You mumble, hands nervously fidgeting with your backpack. There isn’t much of anything inside, and you think you got flustered when you had Spencer on the phone telling you to get ready to go. All you remember is packing your toothbrush, a couple of books, and some underwear. “Oh, sweet girl,” Penelope sighs, her arm light on your shoulders, guiding you through those horrid halls. You think you hate the FBI headquarters more than you hate Cat Adams, and that is saying something. “Everything will be okay. Boy genius is on it, and he’ll figure this out in no time.”
“Seven days is quite a lot of time,” It’s not fair, how your words make her frown, but you have no one else. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can control them because this is what you’ve been dying to do since you first left that goddamned office, seven fucking days ago. And that is your regret– not talking to Spencer when you had the chance, not letting him talk to you, not… not letting him be therefor you. “God, seven days is a lot– it’s a whole week! I don’t know what you believe in, but if you’re Catholic, God created the Earth in seven days and– well, six days and Sunday he rested, but honestly, semantics. And it’s a whole week, one-fourth of a month. Seven days, and– and–“
“I am not judging you, because I am the biggest yapper of this team,” Penelope cuts right in, hand up in the air between you two. “But you need to breathe. I know seven days is a lot. And I hate that you’re in a position that you feel like you need to count the days. But there are no better people to have on your corner than this team. I promise you, Y/N, and– look!” She shakes her phone in front of your face. “Lover boy just landed! He’ll be here soon, so for now, please sit down and drink some tea?”
The door in the end of many, many hallways later is her office. You don’t really understand the juxtaposition of Penelope Garcia, and that’s okay– you might not understand her, but at least, with her, it feels like what you see is what you get. She wears her authenticity on her sleeve and you actually feel at ease around her because of it. There is not an ounce of ambiguity, not a shred of secrecy coming from her. She looks at you– really looks at you– and in her eyes you know how she feels. Penelope, unlike the rest of the team, is not a trained profiler, and even though you are quite limited in your knowledge of what exactly a profiler like Morgan and JJ does, the internet provided you with enough general background that you know just how… proficient… they are in hiding their own selves from the world. Apparently it’s a part of the job, but at one point, you have to wonder just how intrinsic is the job and their overall selves, and if when Spencer comes back home, does he leaves the job behind or is he always on the clock?
“Here, it chamomile,” The mug is bright pink and purple, and despite the room being dark and cold, you see how she has made it her own. The figurines and stickers on the screens around you make you smile weakly, sipping on the tea while sitting down next to her. Her screens are locked, and you are thankful for that– it makes you feel like at least someone is trying to separate you and the world you never wanted to know existed. “How are you feeling?”
You shrug a little, finger running around the rim of the cup. “I… I’m scared. And this feels really stupid, you know? It’s not even about me, but I’m the one kicking a fuss about everything,” Shaking your head, you let out a big exhale, like you have been holding it in for the longest time. “All because of a silly crush, oh my god…”
“Wait… Wha– What…?”
“I know,” You laugh at yourself, that type of chuckle that is so dry and void that even you worry. Underneath it all, underneath all the anger and the confusion and the disbelief, you think you just feel… dumb. You feel stupid. Like you’ve played yourself, and poor Spencer doesn’t even know. “How stupid am I? Getting a serial killer on my back, all because I liked a boy? And it’s not even like he likes me back, so this is all just… so fucked up. I wish I could go visit her and tell her that I don’t have Spencer, not like how she thinks I do.”
“You like Reid?” Her smile is so big that her voice comes out all weird and squeaky. “You actually have a crush on little boy genius?”
“I–“ The hesitation in your voice is obvious. “I did. Spence is just so kind. And gentle, and loving, and he has this huge heart, you know? He used to bring me coffee every day he visited, and he would tell me all these really cool facts about the most random things, and I swear, I loved listening to him talk.” Without even realising, you’re smiling, wide and true, for what it felt like the first time in forever. You bring your legs up on the chair, hugging your knees close just to feel that sense of security it brings you, grounding you in the moment. The memories of your time with him, your favourite customer, are precious to you; and much like old time treasure, you hide it in the depths of your mind, away and untouched by prying hands of people around you.
Except, Cat Adams found your map.
And X marks the spot.
It’s just a matter of time until she finds the golden chest and picks at the lock.
Slowly, your smile slips away. “But now… now things changed, you know?” You gulp, not having the capacity to face the pitiful look she gives you without crying. And you’re tired of crying.
“You didn’t change. Reid didn’t change, he’s still the same kind and gentle and loving man…!” You’re almost swayed by the desperation behind her voice. Penelope is a great friend and you can’t believe you were once jealous of her, but even then, you grimace. It’s not like you don’t want to let yourself be guided by these feelings– you want to let the butterflies loose, you want to allow yourself the giddiness of being with him, you want to have this quintessential girlhood experience, but the threat looming over your head pushes you down and away. You’re scared and you have all the reason to be.
“Haven’t I?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. “Anyways, at the risk of sounding like a middle schooler, it’s not like he likes me either.”
“Y/N, he– he’s different,” Penelope whispers, reaching for your hand. “He’s afraid of germs and rambles a lot and he’s been hurt before, but please, if you just give him a shot, I think you could be really good for him.”
“How would you know?” You’re not trying to be rude, you even smile a little, but the question stood– how would she know? You two had very limited interactions.
“Because he talks a lot about you, and… well,” She confesses, chuckling like she had just done something naughty. When she points at the screens though, you gasp. “I know more about you thank you think.”
That makes your blood run cold. “You– what– what did you find out?”
“Not as much as I could’ve!” She quickly promises, turning to the screen and quickly pulling up a file. The first thing you see is your driver’s license, and you wince at the picture. “This is all I managed to get before Reid put a ban on me!”
“He put a ban on you looking me up?”
“Yes, he said he didn’t want to cheat and that he wanted to wait for you to tell him whatever you wanted to tell him,” Her words come out so fast you barely understand them, but it still tugs at your heart. “He said you didn’t know who he was because you didn’t know he worked for the FBI, and I tried telling him that’s not all he is! I did, but Reid is a stubborn, stubborn genius and wouldn’t listen to me! But he is, Y/N, he is much more than this job and–“
“I know that,” You whisper, eyes running through the documents on the screen. Degrees, past addresses, old jobs, family… and past relationships. Your body tenses up at the small list of names, one in particular making you gulp, glancing quickly at Penelope. “This is all, right? You… you didn’t dig more, right?”
“Yes, this is all! I promise! To be very honest, I could find anything I wanted, but as I mentioned, I’ve been banished and threatened with a long, long lecture on privacy laws.”
Her words echo in your mind for a moment, eyes unmoving from the bright screens. “Anything?”
Penelope looks at your with hesitation. “Anything that has been online, yeah. Why?”
Sitting back down, you take a deep breath and nod. “Show me Cat Adams.”
“Oh… Oh, Y/N, no, no no no, I can’t–“
“Yes, you can! You just said you can find anything and, honestly how hard would it be for me to pick up my phone and Google her? If the FBI made the arrest, I’m sure media has picked it up!” Before you can even reach for the device, Penelope is grabbing it, hiding it behind her. “Penelope, please! This woman wants to kill me, I deserve to know what she looks like!”
Your voice is hushed, the undertone of desperation seeping through every word. “What if she gets out?”
“Y/N, she has a life sentence, she’ll never get out.”
“You don’t know that!” This is what scares Penelope, the way you screech in panic, hands flying to the neck of the hoodie and tugging it away from you like you need it to breathe. “You don’t know that and I need to know what she looks like! Please, Penelope, I’m begging you!”
The tension in the room is palpable, but you know you got through her when she sighed. “I’m doing this for your protection,” It’s more like she’s talking to herself, so all you do is nod quietly, getting up and walking to the back of her chair. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” You are holding your breath while you squeeze the back of her chair, trying to keep yourself upright for a moment that could easily throw off your balance.
In all honesty, you are not sure what you’re expecting. The little you know about black widow killers comes from a fictional world of made up characters, a place where the fantastical magic of made up stories meets the trauma ridden lives of turbulent characters. In them, these killers are beautiful. In fact, their beauty is their weapon, right before their grace and intelligence. It’s almost sick, how you remember liking those stories so much you once called it ‘a form of female empowerment’, and just thinking about it has your stomach tied in a bunch of knots, each one pulling and tugging at you in a rhythm that is too chaotic to not have you hunched over, panting next to Penelope like the photo she pulls up on her computer has just punched you in the gut.
Because despite all your silent prayers, Cat Adams, in her orange jumpsuit and messy prison hair, is gorgeous. It’s something about her eyes, so cold and distant, yet holding an invitation that even you might not be able to resist. Is this how she draws men in? Is this how she drew Spencer? “I–“
“Garcia, what are you doing?!”
Both of your turn around at the same time, both of you shocked at the sight of Spencer, in all his sweater vest glory and red face anger, marching towards you both. “Take it down.”
You have never heard him sound so cold. “Spence, I asked her to pull it up. I was curious.”
“She should’ve known better, she’s an FBI agent!” Now he is screaming, and you can’t help but feel overcome with a familiar type of shame. Part of you, a specific part you left back in New York, expects him to to keep screaming. It’s the part of you that unconsciously pushes the tea mug away. It’s the part of you that looks at the door and feels relieved to see it unlocked. It’s the part of you you’ve been hiding from him and everyone else you met since you’ve moved.
It’s the part of you Spencer just noticed.
“I’m sorry,” He says, squinting his eyes at your so quickly it’s almost imperceptible. Almost. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed, I’m just–“
“On edge,” You whisper, nodding in agreement. “We all are, Spence. Don’t scream at her, please.”
“I know, I know, I’m really sorry,” This is more like him– shy eyes casted down between glances here and there. “I just don’t want you wasting your time on someone like her. She doesn’t deserve it.”
No one says anything for a while. Until you notice it.
“Spence,” You mumble, smiling a little in an attempt to ease the high emotions in the room. “You cut your hair.” It’s shorter now. His shaggy curls still peek out, but it looks more… grown, even if it enhances his boyish charm.
“I did,” He mumbles, blushing a little. For a second, he looks at Penelope, like he’s asking her what to say and what to do. “It was getting too long.”
“It looks really good.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” God, you love when his voice gets low and airy like that. Garcia is looking between you two with a certain kind of spark in her eyes and it makes you shift on your feet. “Uh, shall we go home?”
“You’re going back to your apartment?”
“Yeah, Officer Kaper said that the letter came with the batch of mail they got from Y/N’s apartment, so it’s safe to assume she has no knowledge of her current whereabouts,” Spencer picks up your backpack without even asking, smiling at you innocently. “I reviewed the security footage you sent of my apartment entrance and there is no suspicious activity happening during the days I was gone. And, well, you know, I’m here now. She’s safe.”
No one will ever understand the amount of relief you feel in that exact moment. “Thank you for coming back.”
“You need me home,” Is all he says before guiding you away. When you turn to say bye to Penelope, she is smirking, giving you two thumbs up and a giggle. In the midst of all this mess, you actually feel happy to have someone allowing you to enjoy a moment of silliness. “Are you okay? Do you feel a bit better?”
“Now that you’re back, yeah,” You sigh, sticking close to him as you pass by a group of agents. “Officer Kaper is really sweet, but he’s not you, he’s not–“
“Familiar,” Spencer says, but you shake your head.
“He’s not my friend.”
“And I am?” The hope in his eyes crushes your heart. You never meant to make him feel like you had left him behind, but you know you have pushed him away when he tried to stand by you.
No more.
“You are, Spence,” You breathe out, hand gently falling on his arm and squeezing it adoringly. “You’re my favourite customer and I guess now you’re my living room-mate. But you should really sleep in your bed tonight, okay?” The joke is just an attempt to make him smile, and you’re happy to see it works.
“Will you sleep next to me?”
His question is not that unexpected, really, but it still makes you freeze in place. “Uh… What… What do you mean?”
“Sleep next to me,” His bluntness doesn’t help with the way your cheeks fire up. “I know you’re scared, so if you’re next to me, I’ll be watching over you at all times. I’m a light sleeper, so even if something happens, I’ll wake up. We can put pillows between us, if the thought of me that close to you makes you uncomfortable and–“
“It doesn’t,” You say before you can give up on it. “I just… I know you’re a germaphobe and I don’t know how many germs can be shared when you sleep next to someone and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Actually, when you sleep next to someone, there is an exchange of bacteria and skin microbes when we turn and move around, but your brain compensates by releasing the ‘happy’ hormones because you’re sleeping next to someone you care about, so I wouldn’t mind the former much considering we would wake up pretty content.”
Someone you care about. You hold your tongue back from asking him if he cares about you– at this point, you should know he does. You shouldn’t need the reassurance, as nice as it would feel to have it, but you really, really want it. In a time where everything is uncertain, you pray so that Spencer can be your constant. “Okay,” You nod, hand slowly slipping down his arm, brushing yours fingers through his, before letting it go altogether. Looking down to the ground, embarrassed with your own courage, you follow him out of the building. “The subway is that way.”
“We’re getting a taxi,” He mumbles, signalling one down as he spoke. “I don’t think public spaces with that much visibility are a good idea for now. I don’t want you paranoid, Y/N, but I need you to be careful, okay? Subways, buses, all of these get crowded and they have a large amount of surveillance. We still can’t figure out how Cat found out where you live or who is her connection that got your name through the UPS delivery, but we’re not stopping until we do, I promise you that. For now, we just ask that you be careful around people.”
“I work with people. I have to talk to them to sell them stuff… I can’t lose my store, it’s all I have!” The two of you turn to face each other on the back of the car. He is shaking his head before you can even continue, and when you feel it, the warmth of his hands covering yours, so much bigger and steadier to the point that is like he’s holding your fists in his palms, you hold your breath.
“You won’t,” He whispers, shaking his head so gently that wisps of hair fall over his forehead and you have to fight the urge to push it back. “Y/N, you won’t. We’ll figure something out, okay?”
“Okay,” The trust you have in Spencer is enough to have you nodding along. Until the car stops in front of his apartment, he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you make no effort in letting go of his.
It’s only when it’s time to pay for the ride that you pull away, faster than him in getting the money to the driver. “Hey!”
“Be faster next time, boy genius,” You say, smiling tiredly while walking next to him through the hallways of his building until you reach Apartment 23. Using your key in front of him, the one he gave you when he went away, feels weird and oddly intimate. “Do you want this back?”
“Keep it,” Spencer says, giving you his trademark tight-lipped smile. The way his shoulders sag a little as soon as he is inside the familiar apartment has you frowning. He is exhausted, tired from flying and rushing through the city, but he still made the effort to come get you at the BAU. “What do you want for dinner? We can get some pizza.”
“I have leftovers in the fridge,” You mumble, suddenly too out of place in the apartment you know at the palm of your hand. Standing in the entrance, you just look at him, watching him walk around the apartment so carelessly and you wonder if Spencer knows just how meaningful it is for you to have him back home. “I bought groceries, don’t worry, I didn’t use any of your food or anything like that.”
“I wasn’t worried, but now I am. I told you to be comfortable Y/N.”
“I am…” You mumble, moving to sit down on the armchair.
Under his watchful gaze, you’re not sure how much Spencer can get out of your behaviour right now. It’s a bit sad that you’re even thinking about this so consciously, observing him as he observes you right back. You know you will never win a battle of wits against the genius across the room, but no ones knows you better than yourself and that is currently your only leverage in this entire situation. But… why do you even need leverage? What is this war you have started with yourself and pulled poor Spencer in without even letting him know? The blanket you adore so much is right by your feet and you pull it up to cover your whole body, all the way up to your face. At this point, you don’t want him reading you because you’re afraid of what he will find. Specially because you don’t know what he will find.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” When he sits on the corner of the chair, your body dips to the side, rolling closer to him. “Are you hiding?”
“Yeah.”
“And why are you hiding?”
“Because you’re an avid reader,” Even you want to cringe at your own words. “And I’m not really sure what story I’m telling, right now.”
His laughter takes you by surprise– this has to be the loudest you’ve heard Spencer be. “Y/N, what are you talking about? I’m not going to read you!”
“Spencer, you can’t help it! It’s what you do– I see the way you look at me, okay? I know what you’re doing, and I have to say I am not a fan!”
With one tug on the blanket, your face is exposed again with hair all over it. But then you see his smile, and it looks so honest and happy, like a version of him you thought you had left behind days ago. “You think I’m reading you?”
“Are you not?” You ask, sitting up to try and look at him with a serious expression.
“No, Y/N, I’m not looking at you because I’m reading you.”
There are moments in your life, unique and specific in their own credits, that you are sure you will never forget. The day you decided to leave New York is one of them– you bought tickets last minute and left with only a rucksack you found in the back of your closet. On the way to the airport, you called your parents, waking them up at three in the morning to tell them they were going to need to ship your stuff to a PO box address. Y/N, where are you going?, your mom cried out. What is going on? To which all you said was I’ll tell you when I can, before hanging up and throwing your SIM card out of the window.
Opening your store was high in the list too. Not the day that you conceptualised it or rented the place– the day you truly opened it. The day your first customer, your favourite customer, walked in, that’s the day you truly opened the place. The day he bought a book and promised to come back again.
Of course there are other dates, too; simpler dates. Birthdays, christmases, random family dinners. The small things that build-up to be big memories. But then there are the big things that are even bigger memories, and you’re intimidated, with the size of it all. It’s too big, too tall, and when you fall, it might just be high enough to break all your bones, but not kill you completely. No… that would be too merciful.
This– Cat Adams, Spencer, the box– this is not just big.
This is huge.
In comparison, tonight is not all that big. In fact, his living room feels quite small now that both of you are back inside. The green walls descend and it’s just you and him, squeezed close in an arm chair you both love, surrounded by books you both love, and you still can’t help but feel afraid. This is as small as it gets, as monotonous as it gets, and yet, this is the most scared you’ve ever felt, because no matter what you do, it’s like you can’t stop climbing– you go higher, higher, higher. His words, replaying in your mind, keep pushing you up, without any regard of how you’ll ever come down.
Truthfully, you don’t want to come down, even if he brings you down gently.
“Then… why do you stare at me, Spence?”
He doesn’t answer you, shaking his head slightly before looking away and clearing his throat. Uncomfortableness doesn’t look good on him, and that is saying something, coming from the one person who thinks everything looks good on him. “I uh, I’ll heat up some of those leftovers. Shall I get you some, too?”
Spencer might the profiler, but you are still able to read the blooming colour in his cheeks. “Yeah,” You say softly, I would love some, Spence.”
Dinner with him is peaceful. You’re learning how to live this new life with a plus one. You learn his habits and his quirks– you learn that he likes to put ketchup on his pizza and that he drowns his coffee in sugar. That despite his immense IQ, he still can’t quite cook for himself– or prefers not doing so. That he made sure his cleaning lady came during the times he was away to avoid small talk and human contact. You learn, through a lot of trials and a lot of success, that you are his one exception.
For you, Spencer is malleable, and he has no qualms in moulding himself to your needs, except… except you don’t want him to do that. You don’t want him to be someone he’s not and you don’t want the Spencer you know and adore to be someone curated just for you.
“I’ll go take a shower and change into some comfortable clothes,” He says after he finishes eating. “Thank you for the food.”
“No problem.”
“And Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“You can keep that hoodie. You look good in it.”
Just like that, you chuckle, shaking your head when he disappears behind the bedroom door. If Cat Adams has the map to your past memories, Spencer Reid has the map to your future ones.
X marks the spot.
And for him there is no lock to pick– the door is wide open.
---------------------------------------
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hotch x new recruit! reader where it's SO obvious to everyone in the team that she's just so in love and enamoured with hotch. it gets worse when the team go out drinking to celebrate after a case, and she's an affectionate drunk who just wants to sit in hotch's lap 🤭
"I just need to rest my eyes." You swear, your head feeling like a stone sinking in a lake as you press your forehead into the steady plane of Hotch's shoulder.
"You need to rest your arm," Emily laughs, reaching out to take your drink from your hand, "Slow down with the booze, sleepyhead."
"I'm not tired." You insist, lips brushing the rough fabric of Aaron's polo shirt, "I'm- I told you, I'm resting my eyes."
"That's what my mom used to say before she'd start snoring," Reid recalls with a slight smirk, one that's almost out of place on his soft features.
"That's parent-code for 'I don't want my kids to bother me while I'm napping'." Rossi agrees, raising one of your hands and watching it drop, "Face it, kid, you're smashed."
You roll your eyes with a heaving sign that teenage Penelope Garcia would have envied, raising your spinning head to look up at Hotch. You're closer than you've ever been to him, nearly face-to-face as he peers down at you where you rest on his shoulder, but you don't notice above your ire.
"They're making fun of me."
"They are." Hotch nods, a rare smile on his face as he tries not to laugh, "I think it's because you're tipping over into my lap."
"Fine. Fine!" You struggle to straighten yourself, but you lead with your upper half that's pitched towards Hotch. You slide over the bench and hoist yourself onto one of Hotch's legs, barely able to manage even that with the table in your way. It's a tight squeeze, but it earns you a round of laughter as Aaron's hands come up to brace whatever fall you're about to throw yourself into.
"Hey- hey!" Morgan gestures to his own lap, "This seat is open too, you know. Why are you all cuddled up with the boss man?"
"Because he's not laughing at me." You huff haughtily, but Aaron's face is nestled gently into the curve of your spine to hide his snickering, "He loves me- he doesn't think I'm drunk!"
"Right." Aaron flounders, a little on the nose, "Of course not." he recovers, drawing in a deep breath for composure, "On an unrelated note, Y/N, you should let me drive you home. I think you'd like the music I listen to."
"Okay." You nod, attempting to spin your head 180 degrees to look at him where you're uncomfortably perched in his lap, "Can we get ice cream on the way?"
"Of course." Hotch nods, patting a firm hand against your hip, one that prompts you to slump further against him, "And if you keep your seatbelt on the whole ride, I'll get you two scoops."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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such a mgg girlie
#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#aesthetic#aesthetic board#moodboard#vision board#camila cabello#camila inspo!#girlblogging#inspo#love#lifestyle#mgg pics#mgg#mgg x reader#mgg smut#aaron hotchner#couple goals#mgg fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#prison spencer reid#spencer reid fluff
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can i request a blurb for girl!dad aaron hotchner? maybe where his daughter is scared of a monster living in her closet or under her bed and he scares it away for her? I love your fics! thank you <3
thank you for requesting, darling! this is too cute <3
cw: fluff, implied fem!reader, established relationship, hotch and reader have a daughter, daughter’s name not specified, 1.1k
“sh, sh, sweetheart, we don’t want to wake up mommy.” a voice resembling that of your husband whispers with gentle urgency. on the other side of your bed, there’s a slight rustling in the sheets before the warmth of hotch’s body next to yours is gone. you can’t help but peak one of your eyes open, sneaking a glance at the silhouette of your husband. he gently clasps your daughter’s little hand in his own before tiptoeing her outside of your shared bedroom and presumably in the direction of her own, leaving you alone in the soft embrace of the darkened room.
as you carefully slip out of bed you hear soft mumbles echoing from your daughter’s bedroom. the quiet whispers of your husband and daughter fill your ears with love, even at this hour in the night.
“can you tell me where this monster is?” hotch’s deep voice resonates with a protective tone, fatherly concern etched in every syllable. he’s knelt down in front of your daughter, with both of her hands clasped in his as she sits on her bed with wide, glossy eyes.
“he’s hidden under my bed, daddy.” your daughter responds, her innocence mingling with fear, “he’s so scary.” she says as her lips tremble and your husband brushes her hair away from her chubby face. he then rests his hand on the apple of her cheek, drawing small circles with his thumb to distract her from her fear.
“don’t worry, sweetheart,” hotch reassures, his voice a comforting anchor, and his touch a reminder of his presence, “daddy will scare him away.”
when you attempt to stealthily approach the door, the floorboard underneath your bare feet creaks, catching the eyes of hotch and your daughter.
“hi, honey.” hotch greets, a soft apologetic smile spreading across his face. he meant to be quiet, he knows how much you overwork yourself and how much sleep you really need. but you don’t mind, you love your family too much to care about problems that always await the next day.
“hi,” you reply, a smile playing on your lips, before your gaze shifts to your daughter who exclaims, “hi, mommy!” and jumps off the bed, running in your direction with open arms.
you quickly kneel to the ground and spread out your own arms before scooping up your daughter and spinning her around in your arms. her giggles echo through the room and you settle her onto your hip before kissing the tip of her nose. you then respond with, “hey, sweet thing.” and reveal in the warmth of the familiar exchange.
hotch stands up and makes his way over to the both of you before wrapping you and your daughter in the safety and comfort of his arms. his lips brush the top of your head, leaving a soft kiss on your hair.
“we tried to be quiet,” your husband murmurs against your hair, his voice a gentle melody, “didn’t we, sweetheart?” he asks in the direction of your daughter.
“we tried super hard, mommy.” your daughter chimes in, “but the monster under my bed doesn’t care about being quiet. that’s why daddy is going to scare him away.” she says with such confidence that hotch can’t help but notice how much like you that she is.
“is that right?” you tease your husband, a playful glint buzzing in your eyes as you turn your gaze towards him.
hotch hums in approval, a silent acknowledgment of the shared understanding between the two of you.
“I don’t know if daddy is very scary, sweet pea.” you quip, acknowledging how sweet hotch is around the two of you. he sends you a playful glare and you send him and innocent smile back before your daughter pipes in once more.
“he can do it, mommy.” your daughter insists, “he told me so.”
“well, we better let daddy work his magic then,” you say, a tender smile gracing your lips. hotch rolls his eyes at your comment but smile with you nonetheless. you and your daughter watch as your husband kneels down on the ground in order to search for and scare away the monster under your daughter's bed. he sticks his hand under the bed and your daughters squirms in your arms with furrowed brows, obviously anxious to know if scaring him away was a success.
“do you see him, daddy?” your daughter inquires, her little arms tightly wrapped around your neck and eyes wide with anticipation
“yes, sweetheart, I think I do.” hotch replies with a grin, lifting his head up from under the bed and facing the two of you, “I think he just needs a friend.”
“the monster wants to be friends?” your daughter questions, a hint of wonder in her voice.
“yeah, you see, he’s just a little lonely.” hotch explains, his words painting a compassionate picture as he stands up and makes his way towards you, “he just needs a sweet girl like you to soften his heart.” your husband adds and your daughter giggles when he tickles her sides.
“but monsters needs some sleep too, sweetheart. so maybe in the morning, you can get to know him?” your soothing voice suggests, a delicate promise woven into the late-night air.
“yeah,” your daughter responds, a soft yawn betraying the weariness that lingers, “in the morning.”
with a tender smile, and a consensual nod from you, hotch gently lifts her from your arms to his, “let’s get you to bed.” he says, carrying her over to her bed and tucking her underneath the warmth of the seats. you follow, tucking her hair behind her ear, like hotch had done earlier, a symbol of your love for her.
“we love you, sweet girl.” you express out loud, through there’s no reply; your daughter has already succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep. the room is filled with a serene quiet, broken only by the gentle exhale of your sleeping daughter.
sharing a knowing glance, you and hotch exchange a silent acknowledgement. he places his hand on the small of your back, a comforting touch that guides you down the hall and into your shared bedroom. climbing into bed for the second time tonight, the two of you once more find comfort in each other’s warmth and embrace.
“she’s so much like you.” hotch whispers underneath the covers, so close, you can feel the breath of his words on your neck, “she’s confident, funny, kind, not to mention beautiful, just like her mom.” he kisses your neck in between each phrase causing your lips to turn up into a giddy smile.
“sweet talker.” you retort and you can feel the smile against your neck, “but we both know her attitude came from you.”
“hey!”
“shhh!”
<3
masterlist . aaron hotchner masterlist . taglist
thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.
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How about Morgan discovering something inappropriate in Spencer's stuff and the team laughing because it's the reader's? 👀
send me more ideas for blurbs if you want!
“Can someone lend me a buck?” Morgan asked, walking into the desks in the bullpen, where Emily, Spencer, JJ and you were sitting. “The machine doesn't accept mine.”
“Try another day, I only bring three dollars in coins for the subway back,” you laughed, as you signed the report you had just written.
“I always fold my bills in half to fit in my wallet, sorry.”
“I'll lend you one,” muttered Spencer, who was too busy on the computer participating in a heated discussion on a blog about Carl Sagan “Look in my jacket, it's there.”
Morgan followed his friend's pointing finger and when he found the garment on the back of a chair, he searched the right pocket, but found nothing. He then searched in the left one and although he felt the leather box that housed the man's money, a piece of cloth next to it also caught his attention. Captured by curiosity, he took it and when he took it out he couldn't help but utter a surprised whistle.
“Look what we have here,” he laughed.
Spencer had no idea what it could be and turned to look at him, but when he realized what it was he rushed to snatch it from his hands and jealously keep it in his pants pocket. Unfortunately, everyone present had noticed that it was a piece of black lingerie, which obviously did not belong in the doctor's wardrobe.
“Weren't you looking for the money?” Spencer cleared his throat, under the watchful eyes of his friends.
“Well, my hands touched that before!” Morgan apologized, but without a hint of guilt in his words.
Prentiss and JJ had always believed that there was some unresolved tension between you and the man, so they looked in your direction thinking that the fact that he carried women's underwear in his pocket would negatively affect you. However, they were both surprised when they noticed that you were completely blushing and pretending to pay attention to some documents that, in fact, you had already reviewed. Both of them shared a knowing look of understanding and JJ suppressed a smile.
Spencer walked to his wallet to get the money his friend needed and handed it to him without saying anything, but clearly embarrassed by what had just happened.
The mistake that ended up giving away both of you was when, almost as if it were planned, his eyes met yours and a nervous and almost imperceptible smile crossed your face.
“I didn't think you were the type to collect those kinds of trophies, Reid,” Emily murmured, clearly trying to touch a nerve, but not intending to be rude. All she wanted was to joke a little about what had definitely been going on between you for who knows how long.
JJ, on the other hand, kept an eye on you, noticing in all your body language the embarrassment of having been caught.
“Shut up,” he snorted, but as soon as she started laughing Spencer did too and then you joined them.
“I just asked myself: who will be the lucky one?” Morgan muttered playfully “Y/N?” you froze and looked up at him, debating whether to admit guilt or lie.
"Yeah?"
“Do you want me to bring you something from the machine?” he murmured, pretending to be friendly, but from the smile on his face it was obvious that he had deduced the truth.
"No. Thank you, Derek.”
"It's no big deal. We have to be cordial with our co-workers, don't we, Reid?”
A new wave of giggles filled the atmosphere and even you, the most affected, ended up joining in the mockery.
Spencer could only think that from now on if he wanted to keep a memory of you, he would have to be more careful with where he left it.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#jason gideon#JJ#penelope garcía#david rossi#emily prentiss#spencer reid x you#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid scenario
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Office Christmas Party
In which the Hotchner!reader needs a plus one for an office Christmas party and Aaron Hotchner is quick to suggest Spencer accompanying her. (Fluff&Smut!)
word count: 4.4k
tags: office christmas party, one bed, aaron hotchner (dad), fem reader, bisexual reader, elle greenaway, spencer reid, plus one, new york city, christmas movie, room service, falling in love, crush, smut, fluff, elevator kissing, fancy hotel, manhattan, sightseeing, work colleagues, dating the boss’ daughter, girly reader
warnings: elevator kissing, sub spencer reid, dick riding, protected PinV sex
notes: Happy Christmas/ Christmas eve everyone! I hope you enjoy this, I tried my best but I’m still new to writing with a reader. I think I remembered all the tags pls let me know if * missed anything.
—————————💚————————
Two weeks before Christmas you walked into the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI, your shoulder bag swinging as you walked up the small staircase towards your father’s office not bothering to knock before opening the door.
“What have I told you about knocking,” Aaron Hotchner looked up from whatever file he was finishing to see you standing in the doorway.
“My bad? I need help,” you sighed loudly sitting down on the chair opposite him.
“What have you done now? Hotch asked putting down his pen.
You gasped putting a hand on your chest, “That’s rude! I haven’t done anything.”
“Then what do you need help with?” He sat back in his chair looking at you waiting for you to continue talking.
“There’s a Christmas work party out of town next week and I have no plus one and I don’t want to go alone, help me find someone to go with please!”
“Man or woman? You know this isn’t exactly the help you ask your father for.”
“I know but I’m desperate, I’ll take anything, anyone,” You dramatically slumped over on his desk putting your head in your arms that were folded on the desk.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s it? I need to know possible suitors now. Does that hot brunette still work here I saw her once when I came to visit.”
“Who?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.
“Um,” you pictured yourself being back there that day and looking over at her desk, “Elle!”
“Yes.. she works here but she’s a little old for you?”
“She doesn’t look old, how old is she?”
“29.”
“Dad that’s only eight years difference. I’ve dated older people than that.”
“I have Elle on a special assignment in Texas next week but you’re more than welcome to ask her on a date another time I suppose…” Aaron said before adding, “What about Spencer?”
You pondered for a moment, “Look I like him he’s got that sexy nerd vibe.. also he looks like he’d be clueless but so good in b-“ You stopped what you were saying remembering you were speaking to your father, not a friend, “Nevermind. Do you think he will ramble a lot I don’t know if the other workers will like it, they are nowhere near as smart as him and I don’t want them to say things about him.”
“He does talk a lot but I thought you liked that plus he’s closer to your age,” Hotch made his point after shaking his head at your words, he wasn’t born yesterday he knew exactly what you were about to say and he did not like it at all.
“I suppose, there’s going to be models, influencers and fashion magazines we work with there though… I guess Spencer isn’t too bad he has a grandad kind of style going on people and by people I mean me, find that quite hot nowadays.”
“Look I have a job to do if you’re going to ask him just ask,” He said looking back at his file, “Aren’t you meant to be at work?”
“The company are scouting new models today I’m not required to be there, I don’t do that.”
“Right, well speak to Spencer and tell him I’ll give him extra time off with pay since he’ll be entertaining you. Where is this party?”
“New York. The company convinced Lilia Archer to go. I’m so excited she’s awesome.”
“Lilia Archer? Mention her and Spencer will be there I’m sure.”
“What do you mean? He’s got like a crush on her?”
“We had a case she was involved with last year, Spencer kissed her.”
“What?” you asked shocked but also with a hint of jealousy bubbling in your stomach.
Aaron laughed, “It was… unexpected.”
“You can say that again,” you picked up your bag, “I’ll see you later dad, love you.”
Hotch stood from his chair and walked around the corner of his desk pulling his daughter into a hug, “I love you too.”
You left the office walking down the stairs while looking around to see if you could spot Spencer.
You finally found him over by the coffee machine pouring an unnecessary amount of sugar into his coffee, “Spencer?”
The man turned around quickly hearing his name spoken so softly by a voice he recognised, “Y/N! Hi, what are you doing here?”
“I was actually looking for you,” you started.
“You were… Why?” His lips pressed into a straight line as his eyebrows knitted together.
“Are you busy next week? On Friday and Saturday?”
“I mean yes, I’ll be here…”
“And what if my father gave you some time off?” you smiled with hope.
“What’s going on?”
“I need a plus one for a Christmas party in New York, Please be my plus one Spence,” you clasped your hands together grinning widely.
“I’m not sure it’s really… well my scene, you work in fashion with models and I don’t usually go to parties.”
“Please Spencer, Lilia Archer is going to be there apparently,” you smirked a little.
“Oh I definitely cannot go, she’s got a boyfriend it will just be awkward,” Spencer frowned.
“Fine, I’ll have her uninvited or something? Please Spencer, If you don’t want to share a room with me I’ll pay for you to have your own.”
“What, no, you don’t have to spend your money on that I don’t mind sharing i-if that’s okay with you, of course!” Spencer stuttered getting nervous.
“So you’re coming?” the wide smile reappeared on your face.
Spencer sighed, “I guess so, what do I need to take?”
“Can I have your keys?”
“What why?” Spencer’s eyes widened.
“I have a day off, you are always busy and I will pick good outfits, it’s literally my job, I’ll go pack for you,” you put your hand out waiting for his keys.
“But I haven’t tidied up, I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Spence you’re a clean freak your meaning of messy is everyone else’s spotless clean.”
“Just stick to the wardrobe, don’t snoop around I know what you’re like,” Spencer said as he handed over his keys.
“Yes Doctor Reid, oh yeah if it wasn’t obvious you’re going as my boyfriend,” you kissed him on the cheek before walking off not giving him time to respond.
“What’s going on there pretty boy? The big boss wouldn’t be too happy if he saw that,” Derek said as Spencer’s blush deepened on his cheeks.
“I thought she was into me…” Elle added.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t turn down a night with both of you,” Derek winked at the brunette.
“You’re disgusting,” She rolled her eyes going back to typing on her computer.
——————
When Spencer returned home from work the next day, he opened the door to see his apartment fairly clean with his books that didn’t fit in the bookcase stacked up in alphabetical order as well as some cookies on the kitchen counter and as he went into his room he saw the open suitcase on the bed with a note by the side.
I hope you like everything I’ve packed and you enjoy the cookies I made you. I’m trying to be a good ‘girlfriend’ ;)
Y/N <3
Over the next few days, You only came into the office once to give Spencer another note that contained your phone number so you could communicate about where to meet before flying to New York.
On the day of the trip, Spencer drove to your apartment at 6 am, your flight was at 8:30 am but your apartment was a 20-minute bus ride from the airport meaning it was the best place to meet.
Spencer knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before knocking again.
“Spencer there’s a key under the mat!” You called through the apartment. The man rolled his eyes, you had probably woken up your neighbours and just told them where you had been hiding your spare key although by the look of the building it may have soundproof walls or a least more soundproof than his were at his apartment.
He took the key and unlocked the door, stepping inside to see you in the kitchen with your hair in rollers, drinking a cup of tea with multiple outfits hanging up around the house.
“I take it you aren’t ready?” Spencer said.
“Good morning my love, nope almost just need to pick the airport outfit!”
“I like the second one,” He shrugged.
“Hm, I think I’ll go with the fourth.”
Spencer shook his head with a laugh, “Please don’t be long we don’t have much time.”
“Don’t stress it’s all cool,” you picked up the coat hanger that had a pair of black Victoria's Secret sweatpants, a white tank top and an off-the-shoulder sweater on, “Make a coffee, make yourself comfortable.”
Every minute that passed Spencer checked his watch getting more anxious until finally 15 minutes later you left your bedroom with a suitcase and 2 bags with your hair curled and your outfit on.
“I’m ready, let’s go,” you said grabbing your phone and walking over to the door.
——————
You and Spencer stood outside the hotel and spa, it looked fancy and definitely out of his price range, Spencer thought to himself.
“Ready for 2 days of fun boyfriend?” You smirked pulling your suitcase through the glass door of the hotel.
Spencer followed closely behind you holding one of your bags. He let you check in before you went to your room on the top floor.
“Woah this is huge!” you said looking at the hotel room’s super king-sized bed.
“It’s a nice hotel, how much did you pay for this?” Spencer asked leaving his suitcase next to the left side of the bed.
“I didn’t, my boss did. I’m pretty sure she booked out the whole hotel for the party.”
“So,” Spencer sat down on the bed after removing his shoes, “What exactly is the plan?”
“What plan?” you raised an eyebrow sitting down next to him and picking up the room service menu.
“Why am I here?” Spencer kept to the edge of his side of the bed.
“To be my plus one for the party tomorrow night, maybe you can show me around the city, dad said you’ve been here more than a few times for cases.”
“That’s it? You just wanted a plus one? There was no hidden meaning? I’m sure you could have found someone better looking on a dating website.”
“I like nerdy guys, plus you’re a fancy FBI agent,” you turned to look at him biting your lip before giggling, “I think we are going to have fun, wanna explore the hotel?”
“Maybe later, I want to stay here for a few minutes since I’m going to have to start using my social battery soon.”
“Okay suit yourself, I’m going to meet some of my friends I won’t be longer than an hour,” you said getting off the bed and heading out of the door.
Spencer sighed once he heard the door close, his head falling back against the headboard. He couldn’t deny the fact that he had a crush on you but he knew you were totally off-limits, you were Hotch’s daughter after all.
His head felt dizzy picturing the way you had looked at him while biting your lip even if it was jokingly it still made his head spin and his blood rush to his cock.
Spencer took it upon himself to take a cold shower, he needed one after the flight anyway so why not kill two birds with one stone?
You walked back into the room at the same time as Spencer opened the bathroom door with a towel wrapped just around his waist.
“Hello to you too, what a nice surprise,” you winked at him with a laugh.
“Shut up,” the man walked back into the bathroom closing the door, “I thought you were going to be an hour.”
“Got bored, assumed you’d want to go out or get something to eat maybe? Do you find if we swap rooms I need to pee.”
“Oh, oh sure,” Spencer opened the door again, “Food sounds good. Could you stay in the bathroom until I’m dressed?”
“Sure if it makes you more comfortable,” You smiled going into the bathroom.
“Thank you,” Spencer got dressed as he called into the bathroom, “I’m paying for our food, you can come out by the way.”
You opened the bathroom door, “You don’t have to Spence, my father gave me some money to spend here.”
“Use it to buy something nice, I want to pay for dinner,” Spencer smiled at you.
“Fine I’m not going to turn that down again,” you laughed and grabbed your purse.
——————
You and Spencer had lunch and stayed out exploring the city until 5 pm when you headed back to the hotel.
“Are you sure you’re okay ordering room service for dinner?” You asked Spencer for the 4th time since you had been walking back to the hotel.
“Yes I’m fine with it,” Spencer laughed and rolled his eyes pushing their room door open.
Just as he was about to close the door he heard a feminine voice calling ‘Wait’ Confused, he waited, by this point, you had gone into the bedroom.
“Oh!” The woman spoke, “I’m so sorry I thought this was my friend's room.”
“You’re a friend of Y/N?”
“Yes… and you are?”
“Spencer,” he smiled, “Y/N, someone is at the door for you.”
You groaned and came out of the bedroom with your sweater off, you looked extremely good in the white tank top you had been wearing under the sweater.
“Laura! Oh hey; Laura this is my boyfriend Spencer, Spencer this is my boss Laura.”
“Boyfriend?” Laura looked confused, “You have a boyfriend?”
“Yes…” points to Spencer, “Boyfriend.”
“Oh well, I guess you don’t need to come to the club with me and a couple of the others to find plus-ones then,” Laura laughed.
“Nope, no clubbing for me, Spence and I are going to have a movie night, order room service and have lots of cuddles,” you grinned.
“That’s cool have fun, I’ll see you tomorrow, or I’ll text you if I get lucky,” Laura winked before leaving the room.
You closed the door and Spencer eyed you curiously, “I wouldn’t have minded if you went out.”
“We have plans did you not hear?”
“You were being serious you want a movie night with me?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.
“And cuddles,” you smiled before returning to the bedroom, “Can you order room service while I take a shower?”
“Of course, What do you want?”
You hummed, “Carbonara, margarita pizza, red wine and chocolate brownie with ice cream. Oh and ask for bottled water.”
Spencer laughs, “I’m guessing this gets charged to your boss?”
“You guessed right, order what you want. I love her but I love spending money more,” You giggled going into the bathroom and turning the shower on.
You walked out of the bathroom in your towel, “Sorry I forgot to take my pyjamas through.”
Spencer cleared his throat, “It’s fine um room service will be 6 minutes and roughly 17 seconds.”
——————
The two sat in the living room area of the room eating their meals and sharing a few bites with each other.
You both went back to the bedroom to watch TV and just as you were about to climb into the bed you took off your dressing gown revealing your silky pyjamas which consisted of a low-cut tank top and short shorts.
Spencer’s face went a little red as he cleared his throat, “That's what you chose to bring?”
“Is there a problem with them?” You asked looking down at your clothes.
“No, no, no problem you look really um great,” he wanted to continue his ramble but you stopped him.
“You can tell me I’m hot baby,” the younger woman winked.
“Stop that, let’s just watch the movie,” Spencer spoke desperately.
“Fineeee,” you said dragging out the last letter as you switched the TV on.
At some point during the movie, you fell asleep on Spencer’s arm. Once he realised you were sleeping he switched off the movie and fell asleep beside you.
The next morning, you woke first with a groan, you smiled as you tilted your head up to see Spencer sleeping. He looked so perfect as he slept. You weren’t sure if having thoughts like that were sweet or creepy.
You pulled back the duvet to go to make some tea. By the time you came back, Spencer was starting to wake up.
“Sorry, I didn’t make you anything I didn’t know when you’d wake up,” you said getting back into bed.
“That’s fine, good morning,” He smiled trying not to move.
“Good morning, is everything okay?” your eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.
“Yeah I’m fine, just uh disorientated… give me a few minutes to wake up.”
“Man troubles?” you caught on and raised an eyebrow.
Spencer choked, “What?”
“Oh come on I wasn’t born yesterday Spence, I’ve had boyfriends. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
He covered his face with his hands, “It is embarrassing but it will go away. What time is it?” Spencer asked changing the subject.
“Only 7:30 but Dad will call at 8 to check on me,” you rolled your eyes,
“And then I’ll go back to sleep for a bit.”
“What time are you getting up?” Spencer said, he was used to getting up long before this time most mornings but it wouldn’t hurt if he had a lay-in for once. It wouldn’t usually be his thing but these beds were extremely comfortable.
“Before noon? The party starts at 5 pm so I’ll have more than enough time to get ready,” You placed the empty mug on the bedside table and waited for Aaron to call you in the meantime Spencer had fallen back to sleep.
—————
When you both woke up again, you had slept slightly past noon. Spencer had a few missed calls from the team, he instantly felt guilty that he wasn’t available to answer his phone if they needed help but it didn’t take long for you to convince him that it was his day off and he didn’t have to be on call all the time.
After a lot of stressing about curling your hair and making sure your make-up was perfect, you were almost ready. The last thing you had to do was put your dress on.
Spencer was waiting on the small sofa for you to finish getting ready. When you walked out of the bedroom in the long sparkly dark grey strapless dress his mouth almost fell open and his eyes were glued to you, his pupils dilated.
“I have some rules, well if you agree to them, we have to actually act like a couple… you know kissing and stuff and I want you to be yourself… earth to Spencer?” you waved your hand in his face when you realised he wasn’t actually listening to you and his eyes were locked on your body, “See something you like?” you laughed.
Spencer nodded his eyes still barely moving as if he was in a trance.
“Wanna take it off? I don’t mind being late,” you smirked.
Spencer snapped out of his thoughts at your words, “What? No, I can’t, you just look good, you look nice, um hot?”
“Thank you,” you tilted your head to the side with a smile, “So you’re fine with kissing?”
“Totally fine, I mean I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time, I might be bad. I really hope I’m not.”
“Spence, you’ll be fine.”
——————
You had no problem introducing Spencer as your boyfriend to your work colleagues making him wonder if you had done this before, what he wasn’t prepared for though was how highly you spoke of him and the sparkle in your eyes which to him would suggest that you really meant what you were saying. However, when you spotted Lilia Archer across the room you changed. It wasn’t that you seemed shy because you were anything but shy, but until Lilia spotted both you and Spencer it was like you was trying to hide.
You were the first to notice Lilia walking toward the both of you and your first instinct was to pull Spencer closer to you, your lips landed on him in what was meant to be a quick kiss to make Lilia feel at least a tad bit jealous but the kiss didn’t stop at a quick peck.
The two of you felt a spark run through you that neither of you could explain but you both didn’t want it to end.
Once the genius remembered that you were at a party with hundreds of people and not alone in your hotel room he removed his hand from the side of your face and pulled back from the kiss.
His hand fell beside him, catching your hand in his not long after, “That was interesting…”
“It was.”
“Did you mean it or was it because Lilia was coming?”
You shrugged, “A bit of both I wanted to make her jealous but I did mean it, I think you’re attractive and I know I'm not anywhere near as pretty or cool as Lilia Archer-“
“Stop talking like that. You’re perfect how you are, the only reason I didn’t do that first was that I thought for sure no one as confident as you would want someone… like me. And the other reason is Hotch, he is my boss.”
“Come on Spence you’re the most perfect gentleman I’m sure Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, would be more than happy if his daughter was dating his favourite boy genius.”
Spencer took a small step closer to you despite the lack of distance between you already. He cupped your cheeks lowering his head to give you another kiss.
“I know we’ve only been here for an hour but do you want to get out of here?” you said with a giggle.
“Lead the way.”
——————
The two of you couldn’t keep your hands or your lips off each other in the elevator to your floor or in the hallway toward your room.
Once the hotel door was closed you pushed Spencer up against it, kissing his lips passionately as you fiddled with his tie trying to get it off in a hurry.
You swiftly moved on to unbuttoning his shirt once the tie was off, your lips were still connected but now your tongues were invading each other’s mouths.
Separating from each other to take a couple of breaths, Spencer removed his shoes while you kicked your heeled shoes off removing a few more inches between yours and Spencer’s height.
“Bedroom?” you asked him, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers together.
“I didn’t bring condoms with me, I didn’t plan for well this,” he said with a laugh.
“I always have some with me just in case,” you said as you entered the bedroom immediately finding one in your bag while Spencer removed his pants.
“At least you’re prepared, now come here I love that dress on you, you look beautiful but I want to take it off,” Spencer spoke with a rasped tone, his hands running up and down the curves of your waist and hips once you were standing in front of him.
“Take it off,” you whispered.
Spencer stood up from the bed spinning you around to find the zipper at the back of the dress, when he pulled it down he was met with your bare back meaning you had no bra on and only a lace g-string.
Spencer couldn’t help a quiet moan escaping his mouth when you turned back around showing him your exposed top half.
“You’re beautiful,” he said kissing your lips once again his hands finding your breasts.
A few moments later the both of them were fully undressed nothing left on their bodies.
“Can I put it on?” You asked holding up the condom packet.
“Please,” his voice was slightly strained he was so desperate to be inside of you, he didn’t know how much more he could take.
You ripped open the packet wasting no time before sliding the latex over his cock as a groan fell from his lips.
“Can I be on top?” you asked him.
“You want to ride me?”
“Yes, please?” you gave him a puppy dog-eyed gaze earning a nod from him.
“I’m not going to say no to that,” Spencer held your thighs as you positioned yourself in the right place before slipping his cock inside of you.
You moaned as he penetrated you further. Once fully inside of you, you took a deep breath.
“Am I hurting you?” Spencer asked worriedly.
“No! I just need a second,” you slowly began to move up and down your hands placed on his chest to maintain your balance.
Spencer moaned with each small movement, the warmth from your insides felt incredible wrapped around him, he fit perfectly inside of you.
“You’re doing so good,” you praised him as his hip started to jerk in a rhythm that matched your pace.
“I can’t last much longer, you feel so good,” Spencer moaned against your lips, when you leaned down to kiss him his cock angled even deeper instead of you.
You could barely open your eyes as you said, “I’m almost there.” The way you spoke triggered something in Spencer that made him remove one of his hands from your back and move it so his thumb would brush against your clit in circles.
With a few more sloppy thrusts caused by his hips that grazed your g-spot each time combined with him rubbing hard circles against your clit, the both of you came at the same time both with moans so loud anyone would be able to hear them through the walls.
You didn’t pull him out of yourself until you had fully gotten your breath back.
“Oh my god,” you sighed lifting off him and rolling into the space beside him, covering half of your body with the thin duvet.
“Good, oh my god? or bad?” Spencer asked pulling you close to him.
“Definitely good, so good,” You answered.
“Okay good because I agree, you were amazing,” Spencer pecked your lips softly.
“I hope you plan on being my plus one again,” you spoke quietly running your fingernails down his naked chest.
He pulled the duvet up to cover your body a little more, “I certainly plan on it.”
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