#agent!bau reader

[pillowprincess4logan]

" We're looking for a white male, approximately mid to late 30s, between 5"6 to 6"2 "

" wheels up in 30 "

[forhappysake]

We're Okay

A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.

Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.

Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end

You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 

As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 

Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?

After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 

You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 

A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 

*  *  *

You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 

With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 

There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”

Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 

He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 

Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 

You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.

He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 

“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 

So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 

“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 

“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 

“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 

Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 

“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 

“Why?” you asked. 

Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”

Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 

“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 

You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

“More than,” Spencer whispered. 

He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”

[hotchnersangel]

FAMILY

Aaron Hotchner.

cw; bau dynamic, holiday setting, relaxed hotch, touchy hotch, mention of nudity, teasing from the team, established relationship

It was an accident. It was an accident when the team finished a rough case earlier than they should have. It was an accident when you made a passing comment about wanting to stay in Hawaii for a few more days. It was an accident when Aaron Hotchner arranged for three days off for the team and scheduled a flight back home in said three days.

So, you were in a lavish five star hotel being treated with the utmost royalty and respect for saving their customers, their business, their reputation from the dumps.

You and Aaron had been sharing a room, being in a relationship and all. The team were yet to see you touchy- feely with one another, naturally as you only see them usually in a work setting so it would be inappropriate to participate in PDA at the hands of trauma.

But, as you sat on the edge of the pool kicking your feet in the water, you watch Morgan, Aaron, Emily and Spencer in the pool. Aaron was just sort of doing his thing as you watch from a distance. You were sat closely by JJ and Rossi who were on the sun loungers as they sunbathed.

“I like seeing the team like this.” You say with a relaxed smile and sunglasses perched on your forehead.

“What, half naked?” JJ jokes with a teasing smile on her face.

“my-my mi amore, Aaron come get your girl.” He teases and waves him over to which Aaron obliges happily. He looks up at you as he swims over and sort of lols around, relaxed.

“What is going on over here then?” He smiles and inquires to us all, his hands gripping the side, caging your legs between his arms. He then rests his hands over your thighs, propping his chin up on top of them, staring into your eyes softly.

You grin down at him and rest your hand on his cheek, seeing him squinting from the sun blazing behind you.

“I believe your girlfriend has just tried to hit on us, Hotch.” JJ jokes and smirks, pulling her sunnies off to look over at him and you.

Hotch sighs playfully and shakes his head, looking back up to you as his hands continue to rest over your thighs.

“Hey, it was not like that!” You defend yourself with a smile, running a hand through your hair and pulling your sunnies off of your face and onto Aaron’s. You then run a hand through his hair.

“You don’t love me, I get it.” He teases you, grinning up to you, through the tinted spectacle.

“You know that is far from the truth.” You giggle as you look down at him.

He sighs relaxed, hearing the distant chatter from the team and members of the public. His head resting over your thighs fully now like they were his personal mobile pillows, his hands moving to grab the backs of your calves and squeeze them to reassure you of his presence- or reassure himself of yours.

You are leant forwards, resting one hand on Aaron’s back and the other on his head, you sit and both simply watch the others.

“Hey mom, dad can we get an ice pop?” Morgan shouts jokingly at us and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No honey, you’ve already had one today.” You play along with the joke echoing a chorus of chuckles.

“I’ve never known boss-man to be so… soft.” Emily teases and you roll your eyes in good nature.

“Hey, he isn’t so tough all the time.” You shrug and rub his hair.

“It’s good to see you both open up- usually couples who share employment find it difficult to open up to their coworkers because they fear judgement or their reputations being faltered because they show affection to someone similar to them- though it fascinates me that people in separate relationships can do so freely with little judgement-“ Spencer rambles from his position, him mirroring your position, with his feet in the water now.

“I agree, it’s good to see my man getting his girl.” Morgan smirks and hollers at the couple.

“You all have five more files in your pile when we get back.” Hotch smirks and you giggle, feeling his smirk against your thighs as a yawn erupts from your throat. You rub your hand over Aaron’s arm and shuffle slightly. You smile gently, taking in how perfect this very moment feels and how at peace you feel sharing it with your family.

[colourfulbisexualities]

Morgue, Murder, & Hotch ; aaron hotchner x female medical examiner

you’ve made it your personal mission to test the ever-composed aaron hotchner, and what better place to do it than a morgue? between sharp wit, a killer wardrobe, and just the right amount of shameless flirting, you’re inching closer to cracking that stoic exterior. but the thing about pushing limits? eventually, someone pushes back.

"DO YOU have to be this way?" Hotch asks, voice as dry as the morgue air.

The fluorescent lights hum softly above, casting their sterile glow over cold steel and colder flesh. The scent of antiseptic lingers, sharp and clinical, clashing with the warmth of your perfume: a deep, spiced floral that feels almost out of place in a room full of death.

You barely glance up from the body as you twirl a scalpel between your fingers, the silver glint catching the light before you finally set it down with a soft clink. Your rings—silver, gold, a pop of emerald here, a deep garnet there—glow against the stark white of your gloves. It’s a striking contrast, just like the rest of you: deep violet blazer, cinched at the waist, draped over a silk blouse streaked with moody blues and sharp oranges.

High-waisted trousers, perfectly tailored, hug your frame just right, while your black Louboutins tap against the tile in slow, deliberate rhythm. Even your earrings, delicate gold skulls, dangling just below your jaw, fit the aesthetic.

Death may be your job, but you refuse to look lifeless doing it.

Hotch, on the other hand? God, he’s hot. And it’s infuriating. The way his tie is slightly loosened, the faint shadow along his jaw from a long day, the tension in his shoulders that you know he never lets go of—yeah, it’s criminal. The man is exhaustion wrapped in an FBI-issued suit, and yet here you are, arms-deep in someone else’s insides, thinking about what it would take to rattle him just a little bit more.

"It’s either this or therapy, and guess which one is cheaper?" you say finally, removing your gloves with a slow, deliberate snap. You smirk before turning back to the corpse, tapping a manicured finger against the exposed ribcage. "Our guy bled out fast. Almost poetic, really."

There’s a beat of silence. Not total silence, though—Hotch exhales sharply through his nose, which you know for a fact is his version of barely-contained amusement. The rest of the team lingers just outside the examination room, watching like you’re some kind of live entertainment. Rossi is half-distracted by his phone, but you can tell he’s listening. Morgan and JJ exchange a look like they’re mentally placing bets on how long it’ll take before Hotch finally snaps. Emily, arms crossed, just tilts her head like she’s waiting for the inevitable.

"Most people wouldn’t call this poetic," Hotch says finally, but there’s a strain in his voice, like he’s trying not to let you get under his skin.

"Most people are boring," you reply, discarding your gloves in the biohazard bin. You meet his gaze, slow and deliberate, letting your lips curve just enough to be dangerous. "Lucky for you, I’m not most people."

Something flickers in his expression; brief, unreadable, but there. His fingers flex against the notepad he’s holding, like he’s resisting the urge to rub his temples. Interesting.

"Are you ever serious?" he asks, and though the words are exasperated, there’s something else beneath them.

You tilt your head slightly, dragging your gaze over him lazily, appreciatively. "Oh, Hotchner," you murmur, voice dropping just enough to be suggestive. "You have no idea."

The morgue feels smaller for a second, the air heavier. The fluorescent lighting overhead hums louder than before, or maybe that’s just in your head.

The team definitely heard that. Morgan lets out a low whistle, and Emily mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like oh my god. Reid, poor thing, blinks like he’s debating whether he should physically leave the room. JJ sighs like she knew this was coming, and Rossi—oh, Rossi’s smirking.

Hotch clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and takes half a step back. "Just—" He stops, exhales through his nose, then levels you with a look. "Just give me the report when you're done."

Then he turns, walking out of the morgue with all the composure of a man who refuses to acknowledge whatever the hell this is between you.

As soon as he’s gone, Morgan shakes his head, grinning. "Damn, doc," he says, arms crossed. "You really got a death wish, huh?"

You flash him a grin, slipping off your blazer and draping it over the back of your chair. Beneath it, your silk blouse shifts as you move, the vibrant colors catching in the light. Reid stares at your jewelry for a second, like he’s analyzing the aesthetic choices, trying to piece together the psychology behind them. Maybe there is something to analyze—maybe the bold colors, the striking rings, the sharp contrast to your work are a rebellion against the sterility of this place. Maybe it’s just because you like looking good.

Either way, it’s yours.

"You ever gonna stop riling him up like that?" Emily asks, her tone caught somewhere between amused and impressed.

You feign innocence, placing a hand over your heart. "Me? Rile up our fearless leader? Emily, I’m hurt."

She gives you a flat look. Morgan chuckles. Rossi, ever the observer, finally tucks his phone away and shakes his head. "You know, back in my day, we had a saying," he muses.

"Let me guess," you interrupt, peeling a stray piece of lint off your sleeve. "‘If you keep poking the bear, don’t be surprised when it mauls you’?"

Rossi winks. "Something like that."

JJ sighs, rubbing her temples like she’s already exhausted. "Just don’t push it too far," she says, though she doesn’t sound convinced you’ll listen.

"Oh, please." You wave a hand, dismissive. "I know my limits."

That’s only half true, and everyone in the room knows it.

Morgan shakes his head, clearly entertained. "One of these days, Hotch is gonna snap, and when he does?" He points at you. "I want front-row seats."

"Noted," you say breezily. But your mind isn’t on Morgan’s words—it’s lingering on the way Hotch’s mouth twitched earlier. The way his fingers flexed like he was holding back something. The way he paused for just a second too long before walking away.

Rossi is the last to leave, lingering in the doorway. "Careful, doc," he says, his voice casual but laced with something almost amused. "A man can only take so much before he does something about it."

You don’t get the chance to ask what exactly that means before he winks and disappears down the hall.

Huh. Interesting.

With a shrug, you turn back to your work, but your thoughts drift and linger on the tension that crackled in the air, on the way Hotch looked at you.

One of these days, you think, he’s going to stop walking away.

And you’re not sure what’s more thrilling—the idea of that day coming, or the fact that you want it to.

The morgue quiets after the team leaves, but the silence isn’t empty. It crackles—something left behind in the air, lingering like the scent of antiseptic and bad decisions.

You exhale, roll your shoulders, then turn back to your victim—the actual one, not the one you metaphorically murdered with your relentless teasing. The dead don’t judge, which is more than you can say for Hotch’s rapidly depleting patience.

Your scalpel glides through tissue with expert precision, and yet, your mind drifts. A man can only take so much before he does something about it. Rossi’s words replay in your head, and you don’t know if it’s a warning or a promise.

A small smirk tugs at your lips.

What would Hotch do, if you pushed him just a little further?

Would he finally snap—give you some sharp-edged words, laced with frustration and something darker? Would he grab your wrist in the middle of one of your smartass remarks, voice dropping into something dangerously low, something only meant for you?

Or would he do nothing at all—continue to endure, to restrain, to walk away?

The latter seems most likely, but the thought leaves you dissatisfied.

“Tch.” You shake your head at yourself, lips curving in amusement. You really do need therapy.

You're still lost in thought, suturing the Y-incision with practiced ease, when the soft click of the morgue door opening draws your attention.

Your pulse jumps.

There’s only one person who would walk in without announcing themselves, without hesitation, without caring if they interrupted your work.

You glance up, and there he is.

Aaron Hotchner, framed in the doorway, suit impeccable despite the long day, tie slightly loosened, jaw tight. His unreadable expression would have most people scrambling to explain themselves, to justify whatever mistake had been made.

You, however, just raise an eyebrow. "Forget something, boss?"

He steps inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Something is different.

His usual exasperation is there, but underneath it, layered so subtly that you might have missed it if you didn’t know him—something else. Something quieter.

Frustration.

Consideration.

Something you can't quite name, but it sends a slow curl of heat through your veins.

You tilt your head, watching him, waiting.

A muscle in his jaw jumps before he finally exhales, slow and controlled. "You should be careful," he says, voice low, steady. "You push too much."

Oh. Oh.

Your pulse hums with interest, with anticipation, with something just shy of reckless delight.

You take your time removing your gloves, snapping the latex off one by one, letting the silence stretch between you.

"Should I?" you muse, eyes never leaving his.

For the first time, Hotch doesn’t immediately answer.

And that is interesting.

Because silence, for him, is rarely indecision. It’s calculation. Consideration.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s restraint.

Your smile turns sharp. "Tell me, Hotchner..." You step forward, just slightly, just enough to narrow the space between you. "What happens if I don’t?"

The real question—the real one, the one you won’t say out loud, not yet—is clear in the air between you.

What happens when you stop holding back?

For the first time all day, you think maybe—just maybe—you’ve finally found a question Aaron Hotchner doesn’t have an immediate answer for.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

First Kick

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> Both you and Aaron have been in a secret relationship for three years, except when you go into labour, the rest of the team can't help but speculate.

Disclaimer: Just pure fluff. Small descriptions of labour. BAU being a family. Jack and Haley don't exist in this fic. Not Proof Read.

You would have thought working with a bunch of FBI profilers, they would have figured out the truth by now. 

But they hadn’t. 

Instead, both yourself and Aaron had lived in wedded bliss for the last three years and were now expecting your first child. 

Of course, that couldn’t be hidden from the team. The constant morning sickness. The aversions to certain smells. The swollen ankles, the overwhelming emotions and the growing belly. 

Which, as you were sitting at the dim light of your desk filling in the last of the paperwork for your latest case, began to move. 

The others had stepped out for a while, grabbing some food. They had invited you except the thought of walking a block and a half already made you want to fall asleep. So, kissing the top of your head, Morgan took your order and promised to bring you back extra guac. 

The hum from the headphones you placed around your belly filled the small silence, a tune of Motzart rather than a constant drum of a nearby printer. 

However, from under the headphones, you felt a movement. 

It wasn’t big. Barely noticeable. But it was there. 

Or was it? 

Maybe it was nothing. 

Except, twenty seconds later, you knew for certain. 

Pulling the headphones from you, you stood up immediately and rushed towards Hotch’s office. 

And you continued with your normal routine. Knocking on his door, calling his name and stepping inside. 

“Is everything okay?”

Trying not to raise any alarm, you closed his office door behind you before shutting the blinds. 

“Is everything okay?”

Aaron scanned your face. “Honey?”

Within seconds he was by your side. “What is it?”

But then you smiled. And he became confused. 

“What-”

“Feel.”

Taking his hand, you guided it to cover part of your growing belly. “What am I-”

Kick.

You watched every emotion possible pass over Aaron’s face as he took in the feeling of your child kicking his palm. 

“Is that-”

Kick.

Then he laughed. 

Aaron Hotchner laughed. 

It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of your husband when at work. So it was a nice surprise when you did. 

Within seconds, he had stepped a little closer and had carefully removed his hand from the top of your stomach and slipped it under the hem of your shirt, allowing his warm palm to rest against your skin. 

Then your baby kicked harder. 

You both laughed that time. 

“Hey, ow.” You said, looking at your stomach. 

Aaron chuckled lightly before resting his forehead against yours as his other hand rested against your face, brushing the fallen hair from your face and cupping your cheek. 

“She’s moving.” 

You smiled. “You’re still convinced it’s a girl?”

“Of course I am. I’m a profiler. I should know.” 

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “I’m a profiler, too, you know.”

“I know.”

“And it’s mother.”

“And you disagree?” He asked, still with a light smile gracing his lips. 

You hummed. “I’m uncertain.”

“Well, how about I give you my profile and see how you feel?”

You laughed. “It really is second nature to you.”

Aaron hummed before moving his hand, still under your shirt, to the top of your belly. 

“You’re carrying high, for one.” His thumb traced back and forth on your stomach. “You’ve suffered with morning sickness before twelve weeks, your main craving so far has been fruit. You sleep on your right side.”

“I always sleep on my right side.”

Aaron smiled. “And your skin,” He stroked his thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s soft.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Except, they are just old wives tales.”

“I’d like to think there is still some justice in them. Are you sure you want to wait until they’re born?”

“Yes.”

“And you couldn’t be persuaded?”

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?” Aaron smirked a little before leaning in and kissing you. 

Pulling his hand from your stomach, he brought it up to the other side of your face and it wasn’t long before he felt your body melt into his. 

“The others are going to be back soon.”

Aaron groaned a little but not before kissing you a last few times before pulling away. 

“You’d think they would have figured it out by now.” 

You nodded. “But it is kinda fun. And I can’t wait until they see our baby. I have a feeling they’ll look like you.”

“I should hope so.”

You laughed. “You know what I mean. And, if it is a girl, don’t they usually look like they’re dad?”

“Are you saying you agree with my profile?”

You hummed. “Maybe. Just a little. You are the Unit Chief of the BAU, so I suppose you have some credibility.”

“Even if they’re just old wives tales?” He asked, raising his eyebrow a little. 

You nodded, with a slight smile. “Even if they’re just old wives tales.”

You finally left his office just before the team got back, but not before stealing a few more kisses. 

Over the following months, the team grew more protective of you. With your pregnancy coming to an end, and still not knowing who the father was, they began to step up. 

It was sweet to watch. 

Penelope had planned your baby shower with JJ’s help. Reid had read up on everything a doctor and midwife knew about giving birth, just in case you went into early labour. Emily had helped you pack your spare hospital bag for the office in case you were rushed into labour whilst at the office or away on a case, being too far from home to drive to get your hospital bag. 

And when Hotch couldn’t be by your side, he made sure either Rossi and Morgan were there to help you. 

“You okay there, Momma?”

You looked to Morgan who had appeared from around the corner. You were leaning against the counter, your hand holding onto the bottom of your belly. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You breathed out. “Just a little- ow. Okay. Hey-”

“Whoa, hey, okay, take it easy.”

Morgan placed his coffee mug down, coming right back to your side and holding your hand. “What do you need?”

Your grip tightened around his hand. “Ow. Hospital.”

“Okay, okay. Where’s your hospital bag?”

“By my desk. Emily-” You grunted in pain. “Emily knows.”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. Emily!”

Turning around, it took Emily less than ten seconds to realise what was going on. 

“Okay, Garcia. Hey! Penelope, call Hotch. Let him know what’s going on.”

“Why, what’s-O…oh my god. Okay, Okay. Calling him now.”

By the time Morgan got you to the parking lot, Hotch was pulling in. 

“Get in, I can drive her straight there.”

“Have you got everything you need?”

You nodded. 

“Call us if you need anything?” Emily asked, shutting your door. 

You could only hum, holding onto Emily’s hand. 

She leaned in for a moment, kissing your cheek. 

“See you when you get back, Momma.”

Hotch pulled away a few moments later, rushing you directly to the hospital. 

And for the next twenty hours, Hotch stayed by your side. And the rest of the team started to think. 

“I mean, think about it. When she got braxton hicks. Who was the first one at her side?”

“Hotch.” Penelope answered. 

“Yeah, and the way he looked. I don’t know about you but I have never seen Hotch that nervous.”

“That is true.” Rossi agreed. 

“But they can’t be…together, can they?” JJ asked. “You all had it sussed about me and Will. They couldn’t go this long and not have us at least find out.”

“Maybe they didn’t want us to.”

“Or maybe they’re not together at all.”

“When have you ever known either of them to be that close with each other as they are with us? Rossi, have you ever seen the inside of Hotch’s house?”

“Not for a while, no. Why, have you ever seen hers?”

Emily shook her head. 

“Penelope, can you find out anything?” Morgan asked, turning to his best girl. 

“I can but it would completely wreck my moral standing.”

“You’ve never run a background check on us?” JJ asked. 

“No! That would be an invasion of your privacy. And theirs! If they are a..them, I suppose. Or maybe not. Maybe she is just a single mother and Hotch has decided to help her. He was the first to find out.”

“See, another thing!” Emily pointed out. 

“But Hotch is the first to know everything about us. He’s the main person we have to tell when it comes to personal things that could affect our work.” Morgan explained. 

“But why not come to one of us?” Rossi asked. “JJ, what do you think? Out of us, who would you have come to?”

JJ thought for a moment. “Out of you boys? Probably…Hotch.”

“Really?” Rossi asked. 

“Why not me?” Morgan asked. 

“Or me?” Reid finished. 

JJ smiled. “You know I love you all equally, but out of Three Divorces, Pretty Boy and Chocolate Thunder, I’d want to tell someone I know to be calm. That could remain level headed.”

“And we’re not level headed?” Morgan asked, causing JJ to look up above her shoulder. 

“What did you do when I told you I was pregnant?”

Morgan paused for a second. “You may have a point.”

“Either way, we can’t know for certain that they’re having a baby together.” Reid pointed out. 

“Well, she’s married. Or engaged, at least.”

They all turned to Emily. 

“How do you know that?”

“Her wedding finger. Last time she came back from AL she had a tan line. It was faint, but it was there.”

“Maybe he ran off? They got pregnant but he didn’t want to be in the picture?”

Penelope scoffed. “What a jerk.”

“I don’t think they’d appreciate us speculating like this.”

“JJ’s right. Maybe they’re just friends and Hotch is helping her out. Garcia, have you heard from them yet?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

Meanwhile, at the hospital, the midwife was instructing Aaron to get behind you, holding you up and holding your hands and you continued to push. 

“I don’t think I can do it.”

“Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Come on, honey. I know you can.”

“Can’t you do it for me?”

Aaron chuckled. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Just a couple more pushes, Mrs Hotchner.”

Another wave of contractions hit and you continued to push for another fifteen minutes before finally everyone in the room heard the cries of your baby. 

“You did it, honey. I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

“Is she okay? What-Where is she?”

Aaron smiled, tears in his eyes, pushing the hair out of your own. “She’s-She’s okay. Look, the midwife is just wrapping them up.”

A few moments later, the midwife handed you your baby. 

Two days later they discharged you from the hospital and the first stop made was at the office considering the last of your things had been left there when you went into labour. 

And it also meant the team could finally greet your baby. 

“Ooh, ooh, they’re here. They’re here.”

Penelope was the first to spot you and Hotch standing in his office and it wasn’t long before they were all standing outside. 

However, as the congratulations and praise was made, Penelope’s voice dropped an octave after she got a clear look of the baby. 

“Oh my god.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Ohh, ohh, ohh my goodness.”

But you could only smile. 

“You!” Penelope pointed before turning to look at Hotch. “And you! Oh my god! You are!”

You looked behind you, finding your husband standing closer to you than when the team had first walked inside. 

“Are what? Baby girl, what’s-”

And then it clicked. 

With all of them. 

And for a moment they were all stunned into complete silence. 

“Aaron…why didn’t you…”

“Tell you?” Hotch asked, finishing Rossi’s question.

“Truthfully, we kinda maybe wanted to see how long it would take you all to figure out.” You explained. 

“But…how?!” JJ asked. 

You just shrugged. 

“Hints were there if you looked for them.” Aaron said. 

“Hints were- Oh, so, now he tells us. How long?”

“Four years.” You both answered. 

“Four years?!” They all half shouted, quickly remembering there was an infant present. 

“Wait.” Penelope said, holding up her hands. “Oh my god, it’s all coming together. This must be how Sherlock Holmes feels when he cracks a case.”

Both yourself and Aaron smiled before looking down at the sleeping baby in your arms. 

“The weekends away, the lunch orders, the arrive at work together. Oh my god! The touching.” Penelope hit Emily and Derek’s arm. 

“Ow!” They both called. 

“How could you two not have noticed this?!”

“You didn’t notice either!” Emily replied, rubbing her arm. 

“Baby girl, they kept this from us for four years. Why aren’t you hitting them?”

“Because,” Penelope explained. “She had just had a beautiful baby girl. And Hotch is my boss.”

“Can you ever find a way to forgive us?”

They all looked at each other before seemingly coming to the same conclusion. “Fine. But, only if you tell us how it happened and when. And, if you have a wedding re-do so that we all get to attend.”

Both you and Aaron looked at each other. 

“That could work.”

“Great! Now, let me see this beautiful baby girl.” Penelope said, her voice once again chipper, as she came to your side. 

“My goodness, she’s beautiful. Hotch, she looks just like you.”

Aaron smiled at the compliment, but shook his head. “No, that’s all her mom.”

“Oh-ho,” Rossi laughed a little. “She is going to be running rings around us all soon enough.”

Four weeks later, each member of the team turned up together on different days, listening to the story of your relationship. First were the girls and Reid before JJ showed up with Morgan and Rossi. JJ was there to drop some items off that both yourself and Hotch would find useful with the nursery but she didn’t mind hearing the story a second time. 

Eight weeks after you had given birth, your doorbell rang and just as Aaron opened up the front door, Penelope and Rossi walked inside carrying boxes of items before directing the rest of the team through your home into the garden. 

“Dave, what’s going on?”

“You, my dear friend, are getting married.”

“We’re already married.” You said with a small laugh, walking to stand beside your husband. 

Dave nodded. “That you are, but today, you are both getting remarried. You did promise us.”

“We did promise them.” Aaron said, turning to look at you. 

“We did, didn’t we?”

Dave smiled. “So, Uncle Reid is going to be looking after this little one.”

You carefully handed your baby girl to Spencer as Dave continued to explain. 

“Whilst the girls help you get ready and I enlist your help,” Rossi turned to look at Hotch. “To help finish the set up.”

Penelope appeared from down the hallway. “Come on, Emily is finishing setting everything up.”

“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding?”

“I’ll be the one in white.”

Aaron smiled before kissing you quickly as barely a second later Penelope was dragging you upstairs. 

That night was filled with joy, laughter and happiness. Yourself and Aaron shared another set of marriage vows in front of the team. You shared a second first dance, a second first kiss and a first family dance. 

It was a quiet moment on the corner of the dance floor. You were swaying with your baby, softly, in your arms when you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a familiar pair of lips kiss your shoulder. 

Turning around you, Aaron held both of you close. Your forehead against his and your eyes closed, his fingers traced patterns against your arms back and forth before down your side and to your hips where he pulled you in a little closer. 

Neither of you knew it until a week later, but Morgan had, with Emily’s help, caught everything on camera. And with help from Penelope, a second wedding video had been made. 

Capturing the full length of your first family dance together.

[dronningreid]

Between letters.

↳ When reader has been acting weird lately, Reid thinks she's going to break up with him but she's actually terrified because she has to give him some life-changing news.

main masterlist | complementary part

who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

category: angst/fluff

warnings: Reid is hopeless, reader is a little mean because she doesn't know how to deal with the stress of her secret. Both must work on their communication. English is not my first language (if i forget something let me know, this is my first time doing this)

word count: 2.6K

a/n: Hello! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read what i wrote with so much love. I have written books, stories, poems but never a fanfic and i must admit that i enjoyed this a lot. Well, without further ado i hope you enjoy this and let me know if you liked it.

It is said that we should wait for good things. But it is so difficult to wait for them when we find ourselves in such a deep abyss, where we believe that the only thing we need is that warm ray of joy to get us out of the pond, to save us from dying in agony.

Spencer needed that warm ray of joy after Maeve's death. He desperately needed to feel alive again, but he had to wait what seemed like an eternity for you to come into his life.

Yet every devastating event like that leaves wounds that bleed into scars, some take perhaps too long and as the blood pours out, it destroys hope.

That's what happened to Reid. Because the day Maeve died, his hopes of having a wife and children, of having a family, died with her…

You came along a couple of years later. You admit that winning Spencer over was something that took time, it was slow but it was worth every second.

You were also thankful that he wasn't like the other jerks you dated before, who thought you would die for them just because you were the one who made the first move.

And that was the difference between you and Spencer. You never let that get you down, you kept trying until you found the one. Who knew it would be someone with three PhDs? Your trusted tarot reader, duh. But you didn't believe it, the guy seemed too perfect to be real.

But there he was, spinning around in his swivel chair when you first walked into the BAU bullpen.

"Who is he?" you asked with a curiosity you hadn't experienced in years.

"Oh, that's Spencer. One of our resident geniuses." The sweet Penelope Garcia cleared up your doubts.

Spencer.

The name tasted so sweet on your lips, it sounded so right. That was the day you decided he would be for you.

Of course you needed some extra help. You were trying to win over someone who hadn't dated in a long time and was also a bit reserved. Luckily for you, Morgan's advice scared him off so you followed JJ's, although it also helped that he was definitely mhm curious? about you.

Well no, he actually thought you were a little crazy for staring at him so intently from a distance. And he thought you were weird, but he was too so it just made both fit together like puzzle pieces.

The relationship seemed to be going great, both loved each other and he couldn't imagine his life without you. But if Spencer Reid had learned something in his life, it was that happiness lasts much less time than pain.

You were acting a little weird around him lately, you were irritable and he definitely knew you were hiding something.

"I think she's going to break up with me." One day he decided to confess his feelings to Morgan, when they were alone in the conference room.

Morgan frowned and dropped the current case file onto the table. “You’re kidding, right?” But with no response, Morgan knew otherwise. "Reid. She loves you so much it makes me a little sick.”

Reid remained with his worried expression. "She's slow to respond to my texts, she avoids me, and there's definitely something she's not telling me.” He counted your recent actions on his fingers before crossing his arms.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're profiling her."

Reid frowned. "What? Of course not." Yeah, that means of course yes.

Morgan shrugged. "Just talk to her or ask the girls, they should know something." This time he gave some good advice, not like the ones he used to give you.

Reid did as Morgan told him, but absolutely no one knew what was going on with you. Although everyone agreed that you were definitely hiding something.

You took a sip of coffee. "I watched that movie last night. People said it was really funny but I found it boring, although I admit the plot twist made me cry.” Yes, lately many things made you cry and it wasn't because of your moon in Pisces.

Anderson nodded. "Exactly! I couldn't even finish watching. I fell asleep."

“Anderson, would you excuse us for a minute?" Reid's appearance was a surprise, his insistence on talking to you wasn't.

"Of course, see you later." Then once Anderson left, Reid stood in front of you.

"What's wrong?" He got straight to the point, not like the previous times.

"Me? Nothing's wrong, I'm perfectly fine." But the drumming of your fingers on your coffee glass gave you away.

"Oh, of course." He crossed his arms, oh no, it seems his infinite patience turned out to be finite.

You immediately took a defensive stance. "Yes. I was perfectly fine before you came to interrupt my conversation with Anderson."

"About movies?" He didn't say it, but you knew he thought it was a nonsense, at least now that he was definitely irritated.

“Yes!" Your outburst earned you a few glances from the other agents. But both were too wrapped up in the tense conversation to deal with them.

"Sure, you have time to talk to other people about movies, but you don't even say a damn good morning to me.” You had to be careful what you said, you were in unfamiliar territory now, as Reid didn't usually swear.

"You're overreacting." Yeah... That probably wasn't the most brilliant thing you've ever said, but you were trying not to give away your secret, at least not yet.

“Overacting?” He was offended by your words. “You talk to everyone in the building except me. You used to spend as much time with me as possible, did I do something wrong?” A hint of fear and insecurity crept into his annoyed tone.

You shook your head. “Of course not.”

He put his hand on your shoulder. “Then tell me what’s wrong.” His tone was firm, but not harsh. Although it was obvious that he wasn't making a request of you.

"Spencer, I already told you that nothing is wrong with me." You emphasized the nothing.

He exhaled in frustration, he was 90% sure that this would work. "Fine! Then don't tell me anything." His patience had run out and he wasn't going to beg you anymore. It had been a week like this and he couldn't take it anymore, so he let go of your shoulder and walked away without even looking at you or giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

Everything was dark, you reached for the light switch and then the spotlight illuminated your apartment. It was a less warm space without Spencer there.

You sighed before throwing your bag on the couch and closed the door.

You stood there for a couple of minutes staring at the lonely space. Well since you became Spencer Reid's girlfriend there weren't many lonely nights, mornings or afternoons.

You would definitely prefer him to be here right now, rambling or mumbling a foreign language movie to you. But for now you had to keep your secret, and that meant keeping Reid away.

The growl of your stomach snapped you out of your mind, so you headed straight for the fridge. But the smell of something made you nauseous, so you immediately ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of your stomach on the toilet.

Yes. You had to hurry to sweeten this horrible memory with a concerned Spencer who would hold your hair and rub your back while you threw up.

After dinner and take a warm shower, you were tired enough to do anything else, so you settled into bed to sleep. But your brain had other plans…

"You look... not very awake." Tara commented as soon as you dropped your coat on the back of your chair.

"I only slept three damn hours," you nearly growled before throwing yourself into the chair and running your hands over your face. You needed a liter of coffee.

Tara stopped typing on her computer and looked at you. "Is this something to do with your strange behavior the last week?" When she got no response, she said your name seriously.

You pulled your hands away from your face. “I…” you began to fiddle with the rings on your fingers, the burden of unspoken words beginning to weigh on your shoulders. "God, why does everyone suddenly care about my fucking life?" You opted for annoyance as the perfect disguise for your vulnerability.

"Hey. None of us want to bother you, but we care about your life because we are your friends and we love you." Tara used a serious tone, like a scolding, but there was genuine affection behind her words. "Besides, Reid is suffering because of your attitude."

A pang of guilt hit your chest. “I don’t want to hurt him.” You whispered.

“I know.” She walked over to your desk. “But you’re hurting him, even if you don’t mean to.”

You swallowed before looking up. "It's just that there's something..." You took a deep breath, this was harder than you thought. "Things are changing, things are definitely going to change if I say this, it's going to be real and I don't know how to feel about it. I need someone to tell me what to do, because I feel so lost."

Tara placed one of her hands over yours. "Well, if I'm going to help you, I need you to tell me what's wrong." Her voice was warm.

"I want Spencer to know first." But your half-hearted answer was enough for her to know.

"In that case you should tell him, because none of his PhDs include mind reading." She made a little joke that actually made you smile.

"Yeah, I know. He'll probably solve everything out like he always does." Then you looked straight at his empty desk, at the nameplate: Spencer Reid. "But I want to give him a surprise, something that will make him happy. I can't just walk up and say hey…” Then you forced yourself to close your mouth when you realized you were going to say more than necessary, although in reality Tara already had her suspicions.

"Okay, I'll help you." She sounded very determined and you really appreciated her help and that she wouldn't question you as much as the others.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You spun around in your chair and then had an epiphany, but not like the Taylor Swift song. "Crossword!" Your excitement got you the looks of several agents in the bullpen, luckily one of them was Tara.

"With a secret message?"

"Yes. It's literally the best way." You said excitedly.

But in your mind everything was easier than it really was.

You ruffled your hair as you forced yourself to think more, giving you a splitting headache. "When did I think this would be a good idea? Doing a crossword puzzle for the average person is easy, but not for a genius with an IQ of 187." You dropped your head onto your desk.

"You need help."

"But who's as smart as Spencer?" You muttered defeated, still with your head hidden between your arms and the wood of the desk.

Someone ruffled your hair. “Mhm. Tesla? Einstein?”

You immediately raised your head, only to see the famous Derek Morgan. “They’re dead.” You snorted.

Morgan raised his hands in peace. "Hey, what's the bad mood, baby girl? I just answered your question." He let out one of his signature laughs.

You rolled your eyes. You wished you could turn off some damn switch that was responsible for making you so easily angry. God, WHY? You were starting to get desperate.

"Blake!" Another epiphany, you were really on top of it. You didn't even explain it to Tara, you just ran to the parking lot to get your phone which you had forgotten in the car.

Alex Blake was happy to help you put together a crossword puzzle for Spencer. Although she warned you that he once solved one in about five minutes.

Yeah, well, you were going to take the risk.

Once the crossword puzzle with the secret message was ready, you set out to find Reid.

As you were leaving Garcia's office he was getting out of the elevator, but he didn't even notice you. He continued on his way and god, why did he look so attractive?

"Spencer." You caught up to him as he walked up the stairs.

"Not now, I'm busy." He replied with a seriousness not typical of him.

"With what?" You frowned.

"I said I'm busy." I didn't even look at you as he continued walking to the conference room.

You called out to him, but he ignored you. “We need to talk.” You said seriously, raising your voice.

He stopped in his tracks immediately, freezing halfway. He had never experienced anything like this before, but he knew well what we need to talk meant.

He turned to look at you, with an expression that betrayed nothing of what he truly felt. "I said I'm busy, we'll talk later." That didn't convince you. “I have to do a geographic profile and you have to work on victimology like Hotch asked you to.”

The end was near? You were beginning to doubt and he was very sure, only that he would delay it as much as he could.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

You were about to give up, but you really needed him to know. So you resorted to plan B.

"Derek Morgan, my favorite person in the world." You appeared in front of him, with a big smile.

Morgan let out a light laugh. "Yeah sure, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"

"I think Spencer is upset with me."

"He definitely is." He said it without hesitation and it definitely didn't help the state of your aching heart.

"Okay..." You handed him the crossword puzzle. "Could you please give him this for me?"

He picked up the crossword puzzle. "If you think he's going to forgive you for avoiding him for a week just by giving him a crossword puzzle that he'll finish in two seconds, you might be right."

"Just give it to her, okay?"

"Of course. But in exchange for Penelope being the godmother.”

You immediately frowned, but you reacted a little late because Morgan had already left to deliver your order.

From your desk you watched everything. From how Morgan entered the conference room to give Spencer the crossword puzzle to how the bastard answered it in five minutes. When it took you like three hours to do.

But the best part was when he realized the secret message and ran out of the conference room.

But when he saw you, his quickened steps took on a much, much slower pace.

"Tell me what's true." His low tone sounded like a plea.

A slight smile appeared on your face. "Yeah. That's why I've been acting weird, you know I can't keep secre-"

Your words were cut off when his lips met yours. In a kiss so sweet and soft that it was enough to dispel every single one of your doubts.

A few seconds later, he pulled away from the kiss, leaving you wanting more.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "You didn't have to do a crossword puzzle to tell me you were pregnant."

"I wanted to surprise you." You whispered.

A smile that could light up this whole town formed on his lips. "I love you so much." He then kissed you warmly again.

And so it was that the foundations that had crumbled with Maeve's death slowly re-emerged. They began to build themselves again with your arrival and now with this news, their foundations were stronger than ever, because at last he was going to have the family he had dreamed of for a tortuous time.

🏷️ @floraisunwell

[stardusksx]

ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ALWAYS COME HOME. aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch seems to be doing everything in his power to get hurt, and that scares you. ( takes places directly after the events of 5x02 )

not my gif! credits to creator <3

warnings: angst, fluff, bau!reader, established relationship, reader is a touch insecure in the relationship but hotch reassures, f*yet, no use of y/n, mentions of self-destructive/suicidal behaviour, arguments, happy ending because i’m not self-destructive :) ( word count: 1.85k )

You didn’t know how late it was, just that the sky had long since darkened and your body ached from the seemingly endless day. But it wasn’t the twilight hour that had drained you— it was watching your boyfriend carelessly stride into a hostage situation like he was simply going to get some groceries.

He hadn’t said anything to you about his plan. Hadn’t said anything to anyone. Instead, you had to stare at his back— devoid of a bullet vest— in disbelief as he disappeared into a house occupied by a child serial killer and his son, the unsub who had been profiled as mentally unwell and unstable. It had been too late to stop him, too late to ask him just what in the hell he was thinking.

You could ask him now. But you didn’t have the energy to argue, so instead you said nothing. You quietly shrugged off your coat as he followed you into the shared apartment, hanging it on one of the pegs.

“It’s a bit late to cook anything, do you want to order in?” he asks, lingering in the doorway.

You hummed noncommittally, placing your bag on the table and unpacking a few items you’d need to put back in the safe later.

He paused. You tried to act like there was nothing amiss. “Or we could get the lasagne out of the freezer that Jessica brought over last week?”

“Whatever you want.” You respond, and the silence lingers for a few contemplative beats. You don’t glance up at him.

“Are you angry at me?”

You inhale, hands halting in their movements. You hadn’t expect him to bring it up— he’d been one track minded lately, so consumed by foyet that you’d started to think something trivial like you giving him the cold shoulder would fly under his radar. And even if he had noticed it, you didn’t think he’d care. With losing his son, being taunted by a serial killer, you wouldn’t blame him for having little capacity for anything else.

You look at him. His brows are furrowed. You look away.

“I’m fine. ” You answer simply, going back to racking through your bag for something— what, you weren’t even sure now, but some insecure part of you didn’t want to have this conversation. Like he had bigger things to be concerned about than your feelings, and you could already see how it was going to go down. He was hard to reason with when he was like this.

But he also wasn’t one to let things go unresolved. He spoke your name pointedly. When you glanced at him, he hadn’t moved from his position near the door, briefcase discarded by his feet.

“Fine. Yes, i’m angry, Aaron.” You continue rooting around your bag, “What you did was reckless, and you could have been hurt or—” you could have been killed. It hangs in the air between you, unsaid but obvious. Over a month had elapsed since he’d been hospitalised after the foyet’s attack, and you hadn’t really had an outlet for all of the fear that had flooded you over those days. It hadn’t been about you— he was the one who needed the comfort, or, well, as close to comfort as Hotch would accept. In reality, he’d been so focused in on finding Foyet from the minute he woken up that you hadn’t even had a moment to express it to him. And that was okay. Really, it hadn’t been about you. But god, when there was a moment you didn’t know if he’d ever wake up, it was the worst you had ever felt in your life.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, in that blasé way of his, “But i wasn’t.”

The words infuriated you. A sharp burst of anger clawed it’s way through your veins, you whipped around to face him. And there he stood— arms folded, brows furrowed in that assessing way of his. Sometimes, just a little bit, you hated how stoic he could be.

“But you could have been!” You snapped, “Obviously, seeing you walk in there like you have nothing to loose is a fucking problem to me, Aaron. It's like you’re trying to get killed. So i’m not just angry, i’m terrified. As if worrying about Foyet being after you isn’t enough, you're purposely putting yourself in harm's way.”

He watched you for a moment, giving away nothing. But you’d learned him over the years, know the way that he thinks. Even when he isn’t talking, isn’t blinking, you could tell what was going on in his head. Yet, sometimes, you needed him to show you. It was exhausting always having to infer. “I made a call,” He spoke your name like he was reasoning with you, “It’s what i thought was best in the situation, and i’ll admit that the outcome wasn’t what i’d hoped for. But I stand by it— someone needed to try and get through to the unsub.”

“I don't think you gave it much thought at all, actually.” You bit back sharply, taking a step towards him, “No vest, no conferring with the team, no communication about your choice of actions. Tell me, what is best about that? Because i’m god damn sure that a couple of months ago you would have never done something so erratic.”

And there it was— the topic you’d been tiptoeing around, what this was really about. No one wanted to dictate how he was navigating everything with Foyet, but as time ticked by, his actions were starting to become more and more worrying. Of course, all of it was going to affect him. But this was a path of self destruction.

“Well a couple months ago I made calls that led to a bus full of people being murdered and Morgan knocked out cold while a psychopathic serial killer could have quite easily ended him. So, excuse me if I had to make some adjustments.”

“So that’s it? You expect me to just watch you put yourself in harm's way and pat you on the back afterwards? Great. That’s just perfect, Aaron. It’s not like I love you or anything. It’s not like it makes me physically sick at the thought of you…” Your hands fly up in exasperation. He watches and watches and watches. He’s always so, unbelievably, calm.

There’s one brief flicker, a barely noticeable swallow in his throat. But his stoicism does not fracture. “All of those lives are not worth the price of mine. If I have to put myself in harm's way, then so be it.”

You blink at him incredulously. He stares back.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter, a scoff leaving your lips. You step away, wishing to look at anything but him. “I’m going to get changed.”

You don’t wait for him to reply. He probably doesn't anyways. The bedroom door shuts behind you, frustrated tears that had been building up finally flowing freely. You kicked off shoes and items of clothing, stepping under the shower head and letting ribbons of hot water cascade down your skin. It felt, for a moment, like you could relax.

But then you remembered how he might not have come home. How he could have been in some morgue instead of the next room. The water became too hot, suffocating, and you hastily shut off the tap and stepped away from the lingering steam.

You’re exhausted, and part of you just wanted him to fold you into his arms and tell you that it would all be okay. But you couldn’t expect that of him now. It was Aaron who needed the support. And you could be that— tomorrow, when the freshness of your frustrations had time to dim and you could look at him without thinking about how close you’d been to losing him. Now, you need to sleep.

Stepping out into the bedroom, you expect it to be vacant. But instead he sits on the edge of the bed, quickly looking up when he hears the door crack open. You avoid his eyes as they watch you rummage through draws for your clothes.

He says your name. You pretend not to hear. He says it louder. You pause, but do not turn to him, and the soft sound of his feet against the carpet precedes the feeling of his presence behind you. His hands slide up your forearms, and suddenly a sob was trapping itself in your throat.

“Honey…” He whispers, willing you to face him. Reluctantly, you turn around, avoiding his gaze. His hands engulfed your face anyway and coaxed your eyes to his.

“You could be the only thing left in my life and that would be all the reasons in the world to make sure I came back home.” His thumbs wiped away tears you hadn’t realised had been shed, “I’m sorry that I scared you. If it was the other way around I'd—” He shook his head, “I don’t know what I'd do. If i’m honest, all i’ve been for the past month is afraid. Of losing Jack, of losing you. I don’t know which way is worse— that Jack is away from me and I can't be the one who protects him, or that you’re right here and I still might fail to protect you. I don’t know how to think about anything else.”

He pushed away damp strands of your hair, “I don’t want to die. I don’t. I just suppose that all I'm thinking about is catching Foyet that every second I spend away from searching for leads is another second I could be too late in saving someone I love. I think it’s why I rushed into that house, i just wanted the case over with so I could get back to Foyet. But I shouldn't have done it. You’re right.” He inhaled, “I want this all over with. I want us to be able to spend the weekend taking Jack to the park, and I want to tuck him into bed at night knowing I'll be making him pancakes in the morning. And I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life knowing that nothing could take you away.“

“I want that too,” You said softly, “And we’ll get there, I know it. But please, I need you to take care of yourself. I can’t lose you, Aaron.”

“You won’t. I promise.” He assured, conviction laced in his words. Then, “I love you.”

One hand still on your face, the other reached down to pull you into him by the small of the back. It had been so long since your kisses had been anything but fleeting that the feverishness in which he pressed his lips to yours caught you by surprise for a moment. But, god, it was everything that you needed.

Arms wrapping around his neck, you melted into him like it was the easiest thing since the beginning of time. And even if he had doubts about his ability to protect you, there would never be a place in the world where you felt more safe than in his embrace.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Interference Part 1

Prompt: You run to your FBI neighbor when you and your boyfriend get into a fight.

Notes: Descriptions of DA scenario, mentions of drug use

Part 2

You tried to go over every thing you did throughout your day that might've caused your boyfriend to be so upset but couldn't think of anything. Maybe it was because you didn't stay up to wait for him to get home last night, even though you gave him till midnight. Or maybe you left some dishes in the sink that he had to clean up.

Either way, his anger was inconsolable and you knew better than to even utter a word as he slammed the doors and walked around the house with a hard set scowl on his face. You just took shelter in the kitchen as you nervously cleaned out the fridge, tossing the expired condiments away.

"This house is always such a fucking mess! You spend at least half the day here, you'd think it would look spotless!"

You knew he wasn't really mad about the cleanliness. You deep cleaned the house every single day till it was shining, he was just projecting. You weren't sure whether to respond to his outburst or just let it go but didn't even have time to make a decision once he came walking into the kitchen. The hairs on the back of your neck raised and your face heated up in anxiety as he stood there staring at you.

That's when you noticed the all too familiar state he was in. Dilated pupils, rapid breathing, slight sweat forming around his brows. He was high.

"What are you doing, huh? Throwing shit away? He said, grabbing the box of leftovers you had saved from a few days ago. "What if I still wanted to eat this? Were you going to bother to ask me?"

"I- uh- it's from a few days ago. I didn't think-

"Exactly! You didn't think! Just fucking throwing away whatever you want!"

You weren't expecting the box of expired food to be thrown at you, hitting you square in the chest, sticky noodles getting in your hair and falling into your lap.

"This is my fucking house! My fucking food! You don't get to throw away anything unless I say you can!"

You had barely recovered from food being thrown at you, you didn't realize he made a moved in on you and grabbing your arm tightly, jerking you up to your feet and pushing you towards the other side of the kitchen, the momentum causing you to lose your footing and fall to the floor.

Your senses were kicking into overdrive as you scrambled to your feet just as he grabbed a jar of pickles and launched it in your direction. It shattered on the wall besides you and you felt the sharp pain of small glass pieces cutting your skin.

You had never seen him this out of control before. There was something behind his eyes that scared you more than normal and you knew you needed to get out of his path of blinding rage. You made a run towards the hallway, him chasing you close behind but you managed to close and lock the bathroom door just in time.

"Oh, you wanna play this game now? Ok."

Your breaths were heavy, so much adrenaline flowing through your veins it almost made you woozy. There was a moment of silence, making you think he had walked away but was completely mistaken once you watched the whole door shake at the impact as he attempted to break it down. Another slam and you saw small cracks forming in the middle of the only thing keeping you safe.

You made a split second decision to escape through the window, sliding it open and trying your best to undo the screen that didn't want to cooperate. Another slam.

You looked behind you at the battered door and knew it could only hold maybe one more before he was able to get through- so like a rat trapped in a corner, you began banging on the screen until it popped off, quickly pulling your body to climb out, scraping your hips on the ledge in the process.

The gravel floor did no favors for you as you landed awkwardly, but at this point you couldn't feel anything. Or at least your brain wasn't giving you any time to register the pain. Springing to your feet, you ran out to the front of the house, your first thought to take the car but realized the keys were inside.

That's when you saw him.

He was standing on his porch going through his mail, seemingly looking like he had just gotten home from somewhere. You had heard rumors from some of the neighbors that he worked for the government or something, giving you some hope.

You began running over to him, not daring to look back to see if your boyfriend was chasing you or not.

He has seen you coming over and immediately looked concerned, putting his mail back in the mailbox and practically catching you in his arms once you reached him.

"Please. Help me- my boyfriend. H-he's gonna kill me."

You were crying now, trying to form sentences when he asked you what happened but couldn't.

When you spotted your boyfriend walk out the front door of your house and look over in your direction, a bat in hand your heart stopped.

"Please. Please," you pleaded, hiding behind his tall frame and holding onto his quarter zip for dear life.

"Here, get inside," he said, opening his front door, the both of you entering as he walked over to his kitchen counter where a gun, badge and handcuffs were set. He grabbed the gun and cuffs, clipping both of them on his waist band and turning to you.

"Stay here."

You nodded obediently and watched him walked back out. He didn't close the door so you were able to watch everything from the moment your boyfriend began waving the bat around crazily towards your neighbor to him pulling out his gun and pointing it at him.

"Get down on the ground!"

For a second you thought your boyfriend wasn't going to listen as he stared at your neighbor with fury but seemed to be coherent enough to drop the bat and put his hands in the air, looking over at you.

"Just you wait, bitch. You'll get yours."

By now, everyone was either peeping through their windows or standing on the sidewalk, nosey to see what all the commotion was about as your neighbor pushed your boyfriend to the floor and handcuffed him.

It wasn't long before multiple cop cars showed up, taking over the scene. Your neighbor made his way over to you and offered you a hand, making you realize that you were sitting on the floor, frozen to the spot, hugging your legs.

"The officers are going to want a report but I want you checked out by the paramedics first."

You took his hand but relied all on him to pull you up as your legs felt like jello. The feeling of relief and sadness overtook you as you fell into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Instead of being pushed away and teased for it like you were used to, you got pulled in tighter and long strong arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in a warm protective embrace.

He let you cry like that for a little until you calmed down enough to walk with him outside to the ambulance that was waiting. He didn't leave as they had you climb inside and lay on the stretcher so one of the paramedics could clean up the small cuts around your arm caused by the glass jar.

"How long have you lived there?" he asked, from besides you on the bench. You hoped he didn't feel guilty for not catching the abuse sooner.

"Not very long. He's been there for years but I just moved in about a few months ago. I don't usually leave the house since I work from home so that's probably why you didn't see me too often," you answered, wincing as the antiseptic touched your raw skin.

Just then, his phone rang.

"Hotchner....I'm actually busy at the moment but you can reach out to my Communications liason, Jennifer Jareau at the office....yes of course....goodbye."

"So you're names Hotchner?" you inquired, wanting to talk about something to keep your mind off the stinging pain.

"Aaron. Hotchners my last name."

"Nice to meet you Aaron. I'm Y/N," you greeted, offering your hand for a shake. He took it with a small smile and shook it gently.

"I wish it was under different circumstances but I'm glad you're safe."

"Thanks to you. I appreciate you by the way. You handled the situation really well."

He did that half smile again and played with his hands, almost nervously.

"Well unfortunately I deal with a lot of high stress situations like that so it was almost second nature."

"Cop?" you prodded, wanting to know if there was any truth to the rumors.

"FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit to be specific."

He didn't go into anymore detail than that but that was more than enough for you. So he's an Federal Agent. You literally couldn't have picked a better neighbor to run to.

- - - -

After the paramedic was done cleaning you up and you gave your report to the officer, Aaron came over, hanging up the phone.

"I know the house is technically not yours but he won't be back anytime soon and I'm sure you need to get cleaned up and everything. I'm gonna give you my card, I wrote my personal cell number in case you need anything but also feel free to come over if my car is in the driveway."

You took the card, reading his slightly sloppy writing and nodded with a smile.

"Thank you again Aaron. Really, you're a lifesaver."

He pulled you in for another hug, surprising you but you accepted it happily.

"No strenuous activity until those cuts and bruises heal," he advised seriously, making you laugh. You both pulled away and it took you a second to actually walk away, not really wanting to leave the comfort of his safe presence but you did and went back into the house, ignoring all of the mess and taking a long needed shower, thinking about everything that happened.

[averalia]

When Agencies Collied

|Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Spencer Reid x Reader

| Summary: Your a NSA deep cover agent, and are furious after the FBI's BAU team inadvertently exposes your two-year operation.

| Warning/s: Strong language, Implied violence & discussions of trauma, Emotional distress, Confinement.

| A/N: OMG, can you feel the tension?! Your having a really, really bad day, but look super cool even when your totally ticked off! 🥺

The sterile white walls of the interrogation room seemed to press in on you, but it was the glare from the one-way mirror that truly rankled. Your hands were cuffed to the table, a stark reminder of how badly this had gone south. You were Agent [Y/N] [L/N], an undercover operative for the NSA, and your carefully constructed world had just imploded, courtesy of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit.

The door creaked open, and in walked the two agents who had been circling you like sharks since your arrest. Aaron Hotchner — stoic, sharp, and radiating an authority that usually commanded respect, but today just ignited your fury. Beside him, Spencer Reid — brilliant, observant, his eyes normally full of a gentle curiosity now held a cautious, almost accusatory glint.

"Agent [L/N]," Hotch began, his voice calm, clipped, and utterly infuriating. "We'd like to understand your involvement with the Weston group. We have evidence placing you at multiple locations where their operations were carried out."

You scoffed, a raw, bitter sound. "My involvement? You want to talk about my involvement? How about your involvement in blowing a two-year deep cover operation straight to hell?"

Reid’s brow furrowed. "We understand you're upset, but-"

"Upset?" You leaned forward, the cuffs digging into your wrists, but you barely noticed. "Upset doesn't even begin to cover it, Dr. Reid. I was this close," you held up your cuffed hands, gesturing with them, "to bringing down a major international arms trafficking ring. Two years. Two years of living, breathing, eating their lies. Two years of sleeping with a knife under my pillow, wondering if today was the day I'd get made. And you two, and your whole damn team, just waltz in and throw a grenade into all of it!"

Hotch’s expression remained impassive, but you could see a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or a dawning realization. "Agent [L/N], we followed standard protocol. Your profile matched several key indicators for association with this group. We had no information that you were-"

"No information?" You cut him off, your voice rising, fueled by pure, unadulterated rage and exhaustion. "That's convenient, isn't it? Because I'm pretty sure 'NSA Undercover' is a pretty crucial piece of information! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? I watched them execute a man in cold blood because he owed them money. I smuggled illegal weapons across three borders. I earned their trust, piece by agonizing piece. And for what? So you could come in like a wrecking ball, all guns blazing, and make me a target for every dirty mercenary on the planet?"

Reid shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to Hotch. "We genuinely had no prior intelligence, Agent [L/N]. Had we known you were an undercover operative, our approach would have been entirely different."

"Oh, I'm sure it would have been," you spat, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But you didn't know, did you? Because you didn't bother to check! Or your internal communication is so utterly fragmented that you're endangering agents in the field! Do you know how hard it is to build a new identity, to shed every piece of who you are, to become someone else so completely that even you start to forget the real you? I can't go back to that life now. They know my face, they know my voice, they know my name. Because you exposed me!"

Hotch finally spoke, his voice lower, more measured, but no less firm. "Agent [L/N], we understand the gravity of your situation. However, your arrest was based on solid behavioral analysis and forensic evidence. If your cover was that deep, why were there no safeguards? No emergency contact procedures, no fail-safes in place with local or federal agencies?"

"Safeguards?" You let out a disbelieving laugh. "My safeguard was not being found! My safeguard was blending in so perfectly that I was invisible! And as for 'fail-safes,' my chain of command doesn't exactly hand out gold stars for calling in every time some FBI agent wants to play cowboy! My job was to infiltrate, not to wave a flag saying 'I'm a spy, please don't arrest me!'"

You leaned back, taking a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the anger was a roaring fire within you. "Do you have any idea how many lives are now at risk because of this? Not just mine. The people who helped me, the informants I cultivated. They're all vulnerable now. And for what? A few quick arrests that won't even scratch the surface of what I was about to uncover?"

You looked from Hotch's unyielding gaze to Reid's troubled one. "You think you're the only ones who care about justice? About catching the bad guys? I've been doing it for years, quietly, effectively. And now, thanks to your 'profiling,' I'm a ghost, a dead woman walking, and that entire network is going to scatter like roaches."

Hotch slowly pushed a folder across the table, his eyes still fixed on yours. "Agent [L/N], we've made calls. We've verified your identity. Your NSA handler is currently en route. This is a massive misunderstanding, and we will work to rectify it. But your cooperation is still vital."

You stared at the folder, then back at them, the raw fury slowly starting to mix with a bone-deep weariness. "Cooperation? You want my cooperation after you just handed my life over on a silver platter to a bunch of killers? You want me to help you clean up the mess you just made?" You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Fine. But know this: you didn't just blow my cover. You may have just signed my death warrant. And if anything happens to me, or to anyone connected to this operation, I will hold every single one of you personally responsible."

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with unspoken apologies and the crushing weight of your accusation. Hotch and Reid exchanged a look, and for the first time, you saw something akin to genuine regret in their eyes. But it was too little, too late. Your world, as you knew it, was irrevocably shattered.

[call-me-mother-darling]

Breeder

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Authors note: I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to Grey's anatomy for the idea. I couldn't not do it, Emily with gray hair is too die for. This is one of two fics this week. I will have one coming out on my normal schedule. Y'all deserve a gift though and this is that. I’m not gonna lie this is not my best writing. Later on I might re-edit and update this. If I do I’ll repost it and let y’all know. Much love 💋

Plot: You've just started at the BAU only to find out your boss is the woman you've been admiring at the jazz club. 18+

Warnings: breeding kink, strap on, dirty talk, consensually getting fucked into oblivion, anxiety, first day jitters, feminine reader, mention of teens getting tortured (Voit case in CM:Evolution), mention of whip marks, mentally drained, letting yourself submit to your boss ;) she’ll take care of you, (If I missed any lmk)

Word count: 3170

An alarm blares in my ear pulling a groan from my lips. God already? Today is my first day in this new unit. The Behavior Analysis Unit, a group of highly intelligent individuals that can tell how you're feeling with one glance. While you would think that is an amazing thing, I do not. Being a private and anxious person, the thought of the team knowing what I truly feel is terrifying, I can’t protect myself that way. It’s like giving up control. I stare at the ceiling while all these situations cycle through my brain. 

Deep breaths, you got this. They wouldn’t have picked you if they didn’t want you. You’re there for a reason.

I try to remind myself. I think back to my mothers words. ‘If you are feeling anxious, take a step back, take a deep breath and move on. The worst thing you can do is dwell on the fact that you can’t control it.’ As much as I hated her for that, she is right. I can’t control how my day goes but I can control how I react to them. 

I will myself to sit up and stand in front of my bathroom mirror. My hair is everywhere and I can practically smell my breath. I grab my tooth brush and handle my morning breath before pulling my hair into a tight slick back ponytail. 

My phone started to buzz and I run to my night stand to pick it up. A cheery voice on the other side played in my ear.

“Good morning sweet pea! My name is Penelope but you can call me Pen. Before you ask how I got your number, I would like you to know I am the Technical Analyst for the BAU. Your information was pretty easy to find.” I take a deep breath letting my worry go.

“I wanted to call you because newbies can get nervous coming in to work with such an amazing team. I wanted to reassure you that everyone here is beyond excited for your arrival. Your work is extraordinary.” She pauses.

“Thank you Penelope. I honestly really needed that.” I say and I can practically feel her beaming through the phone. 

“No problem sweet cheeks. See you in a little.”

“See you in a little, bye Pen.” I say.

“Bye hun.” She giggles and ends the call.

I really hope she was right. I even picked out an outfit last night so I wouldn't panic this morning. I put on my black slacks and a red sweater that has a neckline so low it’s not always work appropriate. If I just keep pulling it down in the back it should be fine. 

Should be. 

When I make it to the office I’m shaking. The anxiety has fully taken over my body. What if I don’t perform as well as they think? What if I just start word vomiting? Oh god anything but that. That’s so embarrassing. These people barely know me and the thought of me accidentally telling them some embarrassing story almost made me walk out of the building.

But before I could fully think of running away a squeal echoes through the lobby. A woman dressed in bright colors and a huge smile on her face runs towards me. Given her bright energy I can only assume this is the woman I talked to on the phone this morning. 

“You’re here! Can I hug you?” I let out an awkward giggle and nod. Who am I to deny a hug, especially from this ray of sunshine. 

“Yay! I’m so happy you're here! I’ve been looking at all your reports and I am just amazed at how your brain works.” Penelope squeals, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

“You’re too sweet Penelope but thank you. I am quite nervous.” I say shakily, wrapping my arms lightly around her. But she abruptly pulls back and holds my shoulders in her hands.

“You are going to be great. You may have to do it scared but you can and will do it. You can do things even if you're scared.” She says sternly but with a sweet smile.

I nod along and visibly relax at her words. I can already tell she is going to be my best friend. Someone I go to when I’m on the verge of going insane. I can already tell she helps keep the team grounded with just her energy. Given they see so much blood and dead bodies everyday I can only imagine how refreshing it is to have someone so aggressively positive. 

“Come on, let's get you upstairs.” She says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Yes.” I say and begin to follow her to the elevators.

“Pen, I have a question.” I say and Pen looks my way once the elevator doors close.

“What is it sweet cheeks?” She asks.

“Is there anything I should know about the team? Like touchy subjects or how strict they are. Especially the unit chief. People have said she's scary.” I ask hesitantly and she lets out a small laugh.

“Oh honey you will get along perfectly fine with the unit chief. I can already tell she’ll take a liking to you.” She says, eyeing me up and down. I want to question what she means by that, and the look she's giving me along with it, but I choose to keep that question to myself.

“As for everyone else, they are very welcoming. Tara and Luke will act like your brother and sister once you get to know them, they are known for ‘adopting the newbies’. Rossi is like your old Italian grandpa. I think that explains him enough.” She giggles

“ JJ is the motherly figure of the group but she can be closed off so don’t pry with her. She will open up when she feels it’s time. Saying that though, she is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Now Emily, the unit chief. She’s your boss so treat her as such. She is the best of the best. She will know you inside and out within the first month. There’s no fighting it, I just want you to be prepared. I know that is a lot of information but these people will have you back no matter what. They are also super excited to meet you.” Penelope finishes. I take a deep breath just in time for the doors to open and Penolope to pull me to the bullpen. 

Okay this is it.

I follow her closely trying to keep my strides consistent. As soon as I walk in I am bombarded with greetings and three people surrounding me. They all introduce themselves politely.

JJ, Tara, and Luke. 

“Guys we have new information on Voit. Welcome to the team.” A low sultry voice rings through the office causing all of us to look in her direction. 

Oh shit. 

My eyes go wide. There's no way she’s my new boss. Out of everyone in the world, it’s her.

I have admired a woman at the jazz club every sunday for the last month or so. I thought it was something innocent. I would only admire from afar. I promised myself I wouldn't go up to her or try to find more information. I just needed something to look forward to, to get through my week. But no, here she is in all her glory. Looking even more beautiful. In this lighting I can see her whole face, the way the silver in her hair sparkles and how perfect her teeth are when she smiles. She has such a perfect smile.

No. That's weird, stop.

I come back to reality to see her staring back at me. 

This is going to be a long case.

The team and I make our way to the conference room. I had already been sent all the information on Voit the day prior. The man is way too good. I believe they are towards the end of the case. I know they are looking for the orphanage of these kids. What’s happening to them is unimaginable.

Upon entering the conference room all chairs were taken. 

Literally my worst nightmare.

“Hey, you can have my seat.” Luke offers me. I nod politely and let him push my chair in. The Ipad, with all the information I may need, right in front of me. 

God this is going to be rough. Scrolling through to pictures on Ipad it shows teens thrown on the concrete floor with whip marks on their back. Some look healed, others are still bleeding. My heart aches for these children. No child deserves to go through this. 

“I know these are horrendous but we need to keep a level head. These kids need us so let's figure this out.” Emily says reassuring the team, being the strength for the team.

We spent the next week working on this case, we were all so exhausted. Tara, Luke, and I go out for breakfast the day after we found the building, saving most of the children. Luke’s eye bags were dark and you could tell he could barely keep his eyes open. Tara being in the same state along with her slouching. I don’t want to know how I even look. The waiter has come and gone, putting water in front of us and quickly taking our order. While we wait Tara and Luke fill the silence.

“So now that we have time to actually get to know you, tell me about your crush on Em.” Tara says, eyeing my reaction. I couldn't help but be shocked.

“What? What do you mean?” I ask. There's no way I can tell them about my adoration for her. 

“Oh come on, we see the way you look at her. Like she can solve all your problems, like she's the only one in this world.” Tara says with certainty. Luke nods in agreement.

“There's no way you don’t know you're doing it. Even Emily can tell.” I look at Luke mortified.

“She’s noticed?” I ask in a panic causing them both to chuckle tiredly.

“Well you’re not necessarily sly about it.” Tara says. 

“Oh god, my first case and I'm already exposing my mommy issues.” The two laugh at that.

The waiter brings over our food when the bell rings above the door signally someone has entered. I don’t pay any mind to it until a strong hand rests on my shoulder, making me jump out of my seat a little.

“Sorry hun I didn’t mean to scare you so much. I hope you don’t mind me joining you guys, I'm starving.” She smirks at me while placing herself on my side of the booth.

The waiter comes over and quickly takes Emily’s order. Her hand rests on my thigh causing my cheeks to heat up. 

“So what were you guys talking about that got her so flustered?” Emily asks.

Tara smirks at me and my eyes go wide begging her to keep quiet.

“We were just talking about her little crush on someone with a higher ranking.” Even through her tiredness Tara still teases me. Emily smirks and looks my way.

“Oh yeah? Who might that be, cutie?” Emily says as her food is placed in front of her.

“That’s none of your concern.” I sass, there is no way I am telling her that. 

Being too focused on finishing my meal I miss the glance between Tara, Emily, and Luke. We all attempt to finish our meals and get a to go box for whatever we didn’t finish. The ride back was suffocating with tension you can cut through with a knife. With Emily glancing at me everytime we hit a red light, knuckles turning white as she grips the steering wheel. Luke and Tara had taken the car we came here in and Emily insisted I go with her. She said it’s a newbie's right, whatever that means. When we make it back to the office she looks at me with this longing.

“I know none of us finished our reports last night so when you finish them I want to see you in my office. Something came to my attention during this case that I want to go over with you..” I simply nod in agreement and got out of the car. Questions racing through my brain.

What if I fucked up the case some how? What if I did something wrong and I am getting fired? I hate when boss’s do this. Last time I got called into the boss’s office I got sent here. Theres no way I fucked up that bad.

I wander to my desk and type away on the computer, the one thing I’m not a huge fan of is these reports. They drag on and to remember every detail is difficult, especially when you're so exhausted. By the time I am done with these reports my fingertips feel like they are ready to fall off and my eye lids barely stay open. This part of the case is tough. These kids were tortured for their whole life. Not to mention our team almost got blown up. I understand why she did what she did, I would’ve done the same thing to a place that hurt me so deeply.

I hit print on my report and make my way to the printer which happens to be in Penelope's office. They told me since I am new I need to wait for them to install a printer at my desk, they said it was on backorder. 

“Hey hot stuff, you okay?” A calm sweet voice asks.

“Yeah I’m okay, thank you Pen.” I say with a tired smile.

“I’m guessing these are yours.” She says handing me the reports. 

I nod and take the papers from her hands. 

“I’m serious Pen. Thank you for being my sunshine this week. I really needed it.” I say rubbing her shoulder. If it wasn’t for her I would’ve had a breakdown.

“It’s no problem hun, this case has been difficult for everyone. You did well considering this is your first week.” Penelope comforts me. A tired chuckle escapes my lips.

“Yeah, well it sure ran me into the ground.” I say walking out of her office and make my way to Emily’s.

I knock on her door and wait for a response.

“Come in.” A tired voice answers and when I step in she looks so tired. She looks up at me and I swear her eyes light up.

“Hi, please sit.” She motions to the seat across from her desk. I sit in the chair handing her the report.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask nervously.

“No, darling. You’ve just seemed a little nervous and I thought I could help with that.” her voice sultry.

She slowly pushes her chair back and walks around to the back of my chair, like a lioness hunting her prey. Her hands grip my shoulder, pressing her thumbs into my muscle massaging out the knots. A small hum escapes my lips. I can sense her bend down, breath close to my ear.

“Mmmm I love the noises you make.” She whispers.

“Come on baby, why don’t you go bend over my desk so I can admire you.” I nod my head quickly following her command. I let go of all anxiety and let her guide me with words.

“Before we start, let's discuss rules. If you are uncomfortable just let me know and we will stop, no questions asked. You can address me as ma’am or mommy. Whatever you are comfortable with sweet thing.” I nod along practically melting at the pet name. I stand in front of her chair facing her. She stalks around me once again. Putting her hand on my hips and pressing hers against mine. 

“Here is what’s gonna happen. I’m going to take these off.” She pulls at the waist band on my slacks.

“Then I’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you till you forget your name. How does that sound?” Emily says, voice dripping with command. Her dominance taking over my being and I submit to her.

“That's it angel, I got you.” She hums, unbuttoning my slacks, pulling them down along with my panties. Leaving me in my black stilettos. She looks me in my eyes with so much love and desire. Like not only was she ready to ravage my soul but let me become her world. Like I am the only woman she’s ever wanted to be with. 

Her lips meet mine. She kisses with the same desire that I saw in her eyes. She kissed me like she’d never get the chance again. She pulled away, letting her hand turn me around and bend me over the desk. Her hands rubbing up and down my hips.

Her hands caress my inner thigh, slowly spreading them. When my full weight is on the table in front of me and legs are spread so much they are shaking, her fingers run through my slit. I can feel my wetness cover her soft fingertips.

“I’ve been dreaming about this.” She confesses, circling my clit. A moan is pulled from my lips and I try to move further into her hand, searching for more friction. 

��Patience, sweet thing.” She hums unbuttoning her pants running the strap through my folds.

“This okay baby?” She asks and I nod quickly.

“Please.” I whimper.

She slips her strap into me letting out a groan. Her hips move against mine, starting with slow rhythmic motions.

“You're just my little cum slut, huh baby? Letting me breed this pretty pussy.” Emily whispers in my ear. My breath hitches as her strap pumps into me.

“Yes ma’am. I belong to you.” I say breathlessly. 

Her thrusts start to become relentless, she pounds into me. Everytime our hips meet a moan escapes my lips. Her hand rubs up my back till she secures it around my throat applying pressure. My head goes fuzzy as her other hand wraps around my body to rub my clit.

“Yes, fuck. Right there ma’am.” I moan leaning into her touch. 

Everything feels so good I can feel the coil winding up.

“Awe is my pretty girl gonna cum for mommy?” She teases.

“Yes, please mommy? Can I cum? Please mommy I’ll be good, I promise.” I beg.

Her hand tightens around my throat as she pounds into me harder. Her skilled fingers rubbing tighter circles around my clit.

“Cum for me baby.” She grunts moving her hand over my mouth as I practically scream her name. Her thrusts become softer as she helps me ride out my high.

“That's it baby. Deep breaths.” She says pulling out of me.

Her hands move to my hair, gently moving it behind my ear and kissing my shoulder.

“You did so good for me baby.” Emily comforts me. I turn around, taking the strap off of her and hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay baby, I got you. I’m not going anywhere.” Her arms tighten around my body, kissing my forehead.

“I got you, I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats.

[hoe4hotchner]

Reader x hotchner were they like just moved in together and hotch is away on a case and is supposed to come back next week but he comes home early to surprise reader and he finds her dancing in the kitchen in like one of his shirts and some tiny sleep shorts putting away dishes or smth completely on aware of him being there and just ehri reactions to each other in that situation🤭

Home is where the heart is | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧. 𝘞𝘊: 0,8𝘬

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘮𝘨!!!! 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘻𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 💕💕

Requests are open

           Aaron had been away for over a week now, buried deep in a case that seemed never-ending. It was hard being away from home, from you, especially now that the two of you had just moved in together. Every night spent in an unfamiliar hotel room, his thoughts kept drifting back to what you might be doing, how you were settling into your shared space, if you'd tackled any of the boxes left to unpack, how you might've decorated the house. Everything between heaven and earth that could keep his thoughts sane and away from the case. Thankfully, the case had wrapped earlier than expected, and Aaron had ordered the jet for the first possible departure slot back, excited to surprise you.

           As he stepped into the house, the familiar scent of your favorite candle wrapped around him. The faint hum of music drifted from the kitchen, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Quietly, he set his bags down by the door and made his way down the hallway. He paused just outside the kitchen, his heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of him.

           You were dancing.

           Completely unaware of his presence, you swayed to the rhythm of the music, your movements easy and relaxed. You were in one of his old graphic t-shirts from before he had joined the bureau - far too big on you - your shorts barely peeked out from underneath. Aaron was surprised that he still had some of those shirts left. You looked so comfortable, so at peace, humming along with the music as you put away dishes. There was something so natural, so intimate about the scene, and Aaron couldn't help but be captivated.

           He leaned against the frame, crossing his arms, his gaze softening as he watched you. The sight of you, so effortlessly at ease in his shirt, in his (and your) kitchen, filled him with a warmth he couldn’t quite describe. It was like the missing puzzle piece of his life had finally fallen into place. You were here, you were home, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace.

           You turned, still humming, placing a glass into the cupboard when you finally noticed him. The startled gasp that escaped your lips made him chuckle softly.

           “Aaron!” you exclaimed in excitement. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until next week!”

           His smile widened as he pushed off the doorway, walking toward you. “We wrapped up last night, earlier than expected,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I wanted to surprise you.”

           You blinked, still processing his sudden presence, and then a slow smile spread across your face. “Well, you definitely succeeded.”

           Aaron’s eyes roamed over you, taking in the way his shirt hung on your frame, how your bare legs peeked out from underneath. There was something undeniably adorable and sensual about it all. He reached out, gently tugging at the hem of his shirt on you, his fingers brushing your skin lightly. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” he teased, his voice soft.

           You bit your lip, a playful glint in your eyes as you shrugged. “What can I say? Your shirts are comfortable.”

           He chuckled, stepping closer, his hand trailing from the fabric of the shirt to your waist, pulling you toward him. “You look better in them than I do,” he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss.

           You relaxed into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck, and sighed contentedly. “I missed you,” you whispered.

           “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice a little rougher, betraying just how much he had missed you. His hand slid up your back, holding you close. “Coming home to this… to you… It’s exactly what I needed.”

           You tilted your head back slightly, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. The music still played softly in the background, but all you could hear was the sound of his steady breathing, feel the warmth of his body against yours.

           “I’m glad you’re home,” you said softly, your fingers threading through his hair as you leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

           Aaron deepened the kiss slightly, his hand moving to cup your face, and for a moment, time stood still. When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours, filled with an emotion that was too deep for words.

           “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly. You knew that wasn't true, the next case would come sooner rather than later, but you were fine with it. He would come back to you once again.

           You smiled, your heart swelling with love as you rested your head on his chest, swaying gently to the music that still played in the background.

[angelicoutcomes]

Out of Hours Friendship

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!bau!reader

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader

Summary: You spend a Saturday with Jack and Hotch, one of many. Your feelings for Aaron are shaping and strengthening.

Warnings: Mentions of negative family relationships, No use of y/n, pure fluff, Adorable son/father bond, lowkey lonely reader, cute moments with reader.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It was an early sunny Saturday morning. A mid May breeze whirled aimlessly around you.

Normally, your ideal Saturday plan would be sleeping in late and lounging all day. This has been your pattern for years, as you learnt to embrace loneliness.

In the past few weeks however, you stood routinely in a local park. Greenery had flourished in the late spring months. Children’s screams of enthusiasm and birds dreamily chirping carried through the air.

You silently watched the children’s soccer match in front of you. Still in a semi sleepy haze with a takeaway cup of coffee at hand.

It was a busy morning to say the least. All the kids participating were under 8, making the match a bit of a chaotic mess.

It was a colourful visual, watching the hyper kids chase after the ball. The star player being Jack. He held a determined demeanour as he sidestepped his opponents, navigating the ball.

Hotch couldn’t be happier, pride swelled firmly in his chest. Jack had been through so much tragedy in his little life. Seeing him in control and thriving helped Aaron see the bright side.

There was something so touching, seeing the father son bond between Hotch and Jack first hand. It felt personal, like you weren’t supposed to be here.

For once, there was a resting smile eased on Aaron’s face. (Although, somehow there always does seem to be one when you’re around.)

A pair of Ray bands rest casually on his face, arms crossed in a polo shirt. An ultimate dad outfit, only the best as he supports his son.

Aaron’s arms practically bulged out of his shirt, you couldn’t stop your eye from straying to them.

By now you’ve been exposed to this layed back side of Aaron a good few times. It’s only evident when his son is present.

It had become an expectation of sorts lately for you to show up to Jacks weekly practice.

It started a short while back. Discussed firstly when you and Hotch sat routinely in his office on a random Friday evening.

Finishing earlier than expected, you both found yourselves having an extra conversation or two.

Weekend plans were brought up, you expressed in passing how you never seem to do much on the two days, except relaxing in your own company.

“The one perk of rocky family relationships is an endless supply of me-time” You slipped the humorous comment like it was nothing, slanted smile still on your face as you tidied Hotch’s desk.

Nonetheless, it still peaked Hotch’s interest. In the past, you hadn’t really talked about your family with the team.

When holiday plans are brought up, you give curt answers on what you’ll do with the time off. There’s never a time you’ll bring up your family willingly, only mentioning them when others initiate it. Even then, you’d shy away from the conversation.

It doesn’t take a profilers skill to realise there’s some sort of friction between you and your family ties.

First thought crossing his mind was that you were comfortable enough with him to slip something so personal. This made his heart beat a second faster before dismissing it.

“Well if you ever get sick of your endless supply of ‘me-time’, you’re always welcome to come to Jack’s soccer practice with me.” He offers easily, smiling down at you softly. Like he understood the certain loneliness you face, but not in a pitiful way.

“Coffee would be on me, plus Jack would appreciate the support” he finished.

Something in you stirred at this, Aaron was inviting you to tag along with him, out of office hours, with his son. It felt like a new milestone in your… friendship.

Pretty much since then you had been cheering Jack on from the sidelines. Today being no different.

Your zoning out comes to an end as Jack and Aaron jog over to you. Jack glowing with happiness from winning his match.

It’s in this moment you realise they share the same smile. Both father and son being so alike brings you a passing moment of warmth.

“Did you see my goal!” Jack beams up at you as you crouch to his level.

“Oh you bet I did buddy, that team didn’t know what hit them!” You smile as he leans to give u a small hug.

Aaron admires quietly, enjoying this outgoing side of his son and the glowing smile on your face.

“I think this win deserves ice cream to celebrate, what do you think.” Aaron announces, looking to you for confirmation with a quirked eyebrow. This is his way of asking you to come with them.

“As long as we get extra toppings.” You say with a laugh.

“I finally get to see your sickening ice cream order in person.” Aaron says as the two of you fall into a steady pace, Jack between you both.

“I put gummy worms on mine!” Jack states proudly. You laugh at the thought, how dare Aaron call your order sickly when his son is just like you.

౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅

You plonked down in the booth against the big front window with Jack. The bright sunlight beamed through, resting against the side of your face.

The two of you were waiting for Aaron to come over with your ice cream orders, Jack was ecstatic. This ice cream will come with an inevitable sugar crash for him.

While waiting, you two had a lovely conversation about Jack’s school and the friends he’s made.

“Ms Terry hates when me and Max sit together during reading time though..” Jack starts, but gets rudely interrupted by your phone ringing.

Giving him a big smile, you reach to check who it was before answering with a quick breath.

“Garcia, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call.” You ask with an exaggerated voice.

“Oh nothing much dear just checking in.” She responds in a heart beat, radiating positivity.

You sigh, picking up on her ploy. In the last few months you’ve been increasingly open with your colleagues.

There’s a safe atmosphere among them. From this, you feel more inclined to open up fractions of yourself you’ve shut off to most.

Walls you spent years building up, have slowly been settling into rubble. Around Aaron in particular, thanks to your late night office conversations or passing minutes spent together on the jet as the others sleep.

“Pen, I meant it when I said I’m okay.” You say as politely as you can.

You advert your eyes from the window to a curious Jack beside you. He obviously picked up on whom you are talking to on the phone.

“Hi Penelope!” He calls into the direction of the phone. The tops of his ears going red, just like his father’s do when he raises his voice slightly.

“Wait, was that Mini Hotchner I just heard, Sparky?”Garcia asks, throwing in the nickname both Derek and her address you by on the daily.

Fuck, this will be a new spark for the ever growing fire of gossip the team share of Aaron and yours friendship. Penelope will 100% blab to Derek.

You paused for a second, Aaron was walking over with the ice cream. What could you even say to Penelope? ‘No, I’m a babysitter,need the extra money’, no, maybe you could play dumb?

Before you could defend yourself, Aaron stalked down to your booth. He plopped infront of you and Jack.

“Two scoops chocolate with gummy worms” Aaron says, waiting for Jack to lift his grubby hands to take the tub of ice cream.

“Me! Me! That’s mine!” He insists, enthusiastically. After taking his ice cream like it’s a precious crown jewel, he guards it with both arms.

“Sorry, let me rehash this, was that Mini Hotch and Papa Hotch?” Garcia squeals, like she’s just cracked a master riddle.

Now you’re in deep trouble, the slagging you will face on Monday will be diabolical.

“Look Pen, I gotta go, we’ll chat later” You rush out, nearly stumbling on the words.

Acting like this makes you seem more guilty, but guilty for what? Spending time with your friend and his son?

“Oh I’m sure you do, don’t worry I got all weekend to dissect this and mark my words I will!” Penelope says cheerily before hanging up with a ‘Cheerio!’

You take a breath for a moment before looking up at Hotch. He had a subtle perplexed look, a silent question lingering on his face.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, prodding lightly, maybe subconiously. Nonetheless, there was still concern in his eased back tone.

“Yep!” You respond almost too enthusiastically. “She just likes to check in on me.” you finish.

“Your a victim of Garcia’s big caring heart, you’ll never escape.” He says, smiling at you, scooping up a bite of ice cream.

The three of you settle into a giddy conversation. Jack being so open and friendly with you. His cheeks covered in chocolate ice cream. For such a small kid, he sure could make a big mess.

You reach over to get a tissue, before wiping the chocolate off his cheeks. He giggles at the sensation as you crack a few meaningless jokes in the process.

“Would you look at that, you’re spotless now!” You laugh lightly, looking over to Aaron.

He just stares at Jack and you with a look in his eye. There’s a smile brushed across his lips, he’s content.

You don’t know it, but he’s full of admiration for you. The way you care and act with his son, it wavers something in him.

There’s a happiness you seem to bring to his little family, one he didn’t think he’d get a chance of having again.

“Much more handsome without sticky cheeks.” He says, crossing his arms, done with his own ice cream.

“Did you hear that! I’m hand-a-some.” Jack directs at you, with a gooey look. You laugh at his mispronunciation and the genuine pride he holds.

“You got your daddy’s looks that’s for sure.” You casually slip. Aaron is taken aback for a split second. Did you just indirectly call him handsome, to his face?

“Daddy, daddy! She thinks your hand-a-some!” Jack chides innocently. Hotch and you stare point blank at each other for a split second.

There’s such chemistry brewing, but you both seem to avoid it.

Two hearts so full of love. Two souls reaching for a connection, fingers apart. Two people belittling love, caught in a web of never ending thoughts. Plagued with the idea that they are undeserving of love.

A small jump, or a push is needed to get on the right path. A path full of acceptance, courage, unconditional love and support.

Longing, blue suppressive thoughts are hidden in a safe term of ‘friendship’ and decorated with a pretty bow of banter.

Leaving the ice cream shop, the three of you make way to the car. Jack was on the verge of sleep in the back, dosing off as the car drives. Humming of the radio and a smooth ride lulling him to sleep.

Aaron stops the car in front of your house. “I really enjoyed today, thank you Aaron.” You voice into the space around the two of you.

Not daring to glance at him, you keep your eyes forward. Awaiting a reply.

It feels like ages as you wait for his reply, the radio filling the silence. Although it was only a few seconds at most.

“Jack enjoys your company, hell, I do too.” He starts, looking at you before continuing. “I think we should do this more often, if you’d like that.” There’s a pleading feel to his tone. He wants your company, he’s asking you, hoping your answer is yes.

“I’d like that a lot Aaron.” You smile, Hotch released a breathe he didn’t know he was holding.

A mutual silence falls for a second, anything to avoid you leaving the car. This silence is different from the usual comfortable silences you share.

This one holds more. There’s unspoken words.

Snapping out of the trance, you look back at a sleeping Jack once. Before clipping off your seatbelt.

“I’ll see you Monday, bright and early.” Aaron says softly, adjusting from the silence.

“Of course, it’s my turn to buy our morning coffee.” You finish the conversation. Opening the car door, turning to him once more to say your goodbyes.

Retreating into your house, it hits you.

You have true feelings for Aaron Hotchner. Ones that spread a warmth in your chest, form a fluttering feeling in your stomach, and heaviness in your cheeks.

Now you have to figure out how to blanket it. From your skilled team of profilers, from the man in question and, most importantly, yourself.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆

[forhappysake]

Late-Night Talking

Author's note: This can be read as part 2 of "Never Forget a Face," or it can be read as a stand-alone. 5k words, not proofread xoxo.

Summary: After you get to know Spencer, the team starts believing you may be more than friends. Despite pushing back against their jokes, you and Spencer quickly realize they may not be wrong.

Warnings: fem!reader, spoilers for season 12/13, mentions of typical BAU-level violence, age gap mentioned, one bed trope that i LOVE, no smut just some heavy fluff/making out at the end

“Checkmate,” Spencer said. 

You groaned. 

The soft glow of an antique lamp illuminated your surroundings. You sat cross-legged on an old leather armchair, resting your head in your hands. Spencer, across from you, looked a little too amused. The pair of you had been at this for roughly two hours. 

“I’m not sure why you decided to make that last move. If you want, I can show you some additional strategies and what I would have done in your place,” Spencer rambled. If it were any other man, you likely would have rolled your eyes and told them to shut up. Something about the way he spoke was entirely genuine, and he knew he had your best interest at heart. 

“No thanks, Spence. I think I’ve met my match for the day,” you said, rising from your seat. You stretched your arms above your head. “I could go for some coffee, though.”

He smiled as you turned to walk toward his kitchen. In the three weeks since the two of you had spent the evening talking, the two of you had only become closer. This was the third night this week that you had found yourself enjoying his company. 

“Do you want a cup?” you called behind the counter. 

It was quiet for a second, and you could imagine his eyes narrowing in thought as he weighed his options. “Sure,” he said. “Could you make it with-”

“Lots of sugar and a little bit of coffee,” you finished for him, appearing from behind the island with two cups in hand. “Here.”

Spencer thanked you, taking a small sip before setting the steaming cup on the side table. “Perfect,” he acknowledged. 

“Oh really? Maybe I should pursue a career as a barista,” you joked, whirling the mixture around in your mug with a small red stirrer. 

Spencer let out a small laugh before he grew quiet for a moment. He looked at you thoughtfully. “Not that I think you wouldn’t be good at it, but I think I - or uh - we prefer to have you on our team.”

As you opened your mouth to respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You set your coffee on the side table next to Spencer’s and pulled it out, unveiling Penelope’s name and face buzzing across your screen. 

“It’s Penelope,” you said. Spencer shot you a knowing look. 

You raised the phone and answered her video message request. Her face filled the screen. 

“Hello, my lovely,” she said to you in her usual bubbly manner. The bright pink bows in her hair and the way they matched what you could see of her dress made you smile. 

“Hey, Pen,” you greeted. “What’s up?”

“That’s the less lovely part,” she said, her smiling turning to a frown. “I need you in the office in an hour or less. We have a case.” 

You sighed as you shot a glance at Spencer who was staring at you from across the chess table. “Right, I’ll be there. Thanks.”

You were about to hang up when she spoke again. “Oh, wait! Y/N!”

“Yes?” you asked her, a bit confused by her sudden urgency. 

“Have you talked to Spencer? You’re the last one on my call list and I haven’t been able to get ahold of him for twenty minutes.” 

Rather than respond, you flipped the camera around to unveil Spencer sitting on the edge of the armchair. “Yeah, I think I can get ahold of him for you,” you quipped. 

Penelope gasped. “My two favorite BAU babies spending time together? Be still my speckled heart.”

Spencer groaned, looking directly at the camera. “Penelope, we’ve been over this. I’m 36. I’ve been with the team for over a decade. I’ve done time in a maximum security prison. I haven’t been a BAU ‘baby,’” he made air quotes with his hands, “for ten years.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, causing you to giggle and causing Spencer to furrow his brow. “Oh, Dr. Reid, your wit is charming but I fear you’ll always be a BAU baby in my mind.” 

Spencer huffed. 

“Regardless, it’s nice to see my babies together,” she said, her cheery disposition fading as she began clacking on her keyboard. “Anyway, I’ll see you lovebirds in an hour. Peace!”

You and Spencer had both frozen at her final statement as her face faded from the screen. Lovebirds?

In an attempt to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room, you cleared your throat. “I have to run home and grab my go-bag.” You rose and made for the door. Spencer remained seated, a perplexed look on his face. 

“I’ll see you in an hour?” you half-asked. 

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, finally noticing that you were standing with your hand on his doorknob, ready to leave. 

“Y-yeah. Of course. See you there,” he said, offering a small yet sincere small. 

You drove home and grabbed your things, Penelope’s statement still ringing in your ears. Lovebirds. 

Sure, you enjoyed spending time with Spencer. In the month since you’d met him, you’d gotten to know him quite well. You knew how he took his coffee, what books he was working through at the moment, and how his therapy was going. However, you didn’t think that qualified you as lovebirds. 

You shook your head as you pulled into your parking spot at work. You were overthinking it. Penelope called people questionable names all the time. Just last week, the HR department was forced to give a seminar on workplace conduct after some of Penelope’s most famous lines were brought to the attention of the department. 

Spencer had leaned over to you during the presentation, nudging you with his elbow. “Last time they gave one of these, Penelope got in trouble for calling our friend ‘dark chocolate thunder,’” he whispered. You had widened your eyes at him and looked appalled as he offered a small, mischievous smile, turning back to the front.  

You paused for a moment before entering the building and thought about how that interaction had made you feel. The butterflies in your stomach took flight when he nudged your arm, the tingling sensation running through your veins as he whispered in your ear. Maybe Penelope wasn’t as far off as you thought. 

Regardless, you had a job to do. So did Spencer, for that matter. Based on the worried glances your coworkers gave you when you walked into the roundtable room, you could tell it was going to be a doozy. 

Emily and Spencer walked in moments later, taking their seats around the table. He offered you a small smile, which you kindly returned before focusing on Penelope’s presentation at the front of the room. 

Another serial killer, another flight that was going to take you across the country. 

For three days after touchdown in California, the team worked around the clock. On the third day, the team went out in pairs to keep watch over the local parks in town, from which women were being kidnapped and subsequently murdered. Emily had asked you and Spencer to stay behind at the police station in case any new developments came about.

By the time night fell, you weren’t sure when the last time you’d slept or eaten was. You were sitting on a couch in the meeting room assigned to the BAU for your time in California. You’d zoned out at the images of the victim’s bloody bodies before you on the coffee table, your eyes glazed over and bloodshot from the lack of sleep. 

When someone placed a hand on your shoulder, you jumped in surprise. 

“Just me,” Spencer said, putting one hand up in surrender. He’d walked in through the open door, you hadn’t even noticed his entrance.

You rubbed your eyes. “Sorry. What’s up? Any news?”

Spencer shook his head, sitting down next to you. He cleared his throat. “You could sleep, you know? I can always wake you if something changes.” 

You yawned. “I appreciate the offer, but don’t you think that’s unfair? You haven’t slept either.” 

He shrugged, glancing sideways at you. “I didn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time for three months of my life. This is nothing.” 

You looked at him in that moment. Truly looked at him. The small scar on the side of his neck where a few stray curls ended. The stubble on his cheek, getting longer each day you worked this case. Finally, your eyes met his. 

“Alright,” you relented. “Just promise you’ll wake me up if something changes.” 

Spencer nodded. “I’ll be right here next to the phone. Rest for a little bit.” 

Without another word, you sunk further down on the couch and laid your head back, falling into a dreamless sleep. 

SPENCER’S POV

I developed this habit of staring at clocks while I was away. Some might think that makes the time pass slower, but on the contrary, I found that the minutes flew by faster if I could zone out at something for long enough. 

I found myself practicing this same habit as the night passed. The only thing that pulled me from my daze was Y/N’s body shifting on the couch next to me. 

I turned to look at her. She rested her head on the back of the couch. Her hair had fallen haphazardly over one side of her face. The black top she wore was dangerously close to slipping off her shoulder. I leaned forward to strip off my suit jacket and gently lay it over her, the thick fabric wrinkling. As if on cue, she subconsciously pulled the jacked around her figure, burying her face in the material. 

I felt my heart warm at the sight and bit back a smile. She was still too innocent for the job. Probably too innocent for this world, frankly. But the pleasure of getting to know her had made Emily’s decision to place her on the team a no-brainer. She was, by all intents and purposes, a ray of sunshine. 

“You two look cozy,” Luke spoke from the doorway. 

My eyes shot up to face him. I tried to act casual like I wasn’t just oogling over my coworker.  “Oh. Yeah, she is.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “Jig’s up, Reid,” he started, leaning against the doorway. “You’ve been looking at her like that for weeks. Why don’t you just ask her on a date?” 

I cringed. “Why does everyone keep insinuating that we’re somehow romantically involved?”

“Well let’s see,” Luke held up his fingers to count as he spoke. “You guys talk to each other like, all the time.” One. “You didn’t tell her to move when she accidentally sat in your seat at the conference table.” Two. “I know for a fact that she’s been out with you at least three nights a week, hence why she didn’t come out with Garcia and me last weekend.” Three. “You actually laugh when she tells you a joke.” Four. “You keep staring at her-”

“Alright, I get it,” I interrupted, holding up a hand to quiet him. I sighed. “You’ve forgotten some pretty important details in your explanation.” 

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” 

It was my turn to do the counting. “She’s roughly eight years younger than I am. I haven’t the faintest clue if she’s seeing anyone. She’s only known me for a month and she happens to know about… my history.” Luke glanced up at me, a touch of sympathy in his gaze. “Prison time is not exactly a turn-on to most women,” I admitted. 

Luke took a deep breath. “Well, I hope it works out however you want it to, Reid. I can say this for sure, I haven’t seen you this happy in a year.” 

I watched him begin to walk away before he turned to look back over his shoulder. “By the way, we caught the guy. Wheels-up in thirty.” 

With that utterance, he was gone. 

READER’S POV

The next thing you remembered was Spencer gently shaking your shoulder. “Y/N,” he said your name quietly. 

You rolled over, groggy as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, what’s up, Spence?” 

“The case is closed. We’re going to get ready to go home.” 

Your eyes shot open. “Really? I can’t believe we missed it,” you said, sounding somewhat disappointed. 

Spencer shrugged. “I think I would prefer the comfort of this place than being out there.” He pointed out the window where a steady rain had begun falling over the parking lot.

You groaned, peeling the blanket off your body. It was just then that you realized it wasn’t a blanket, but Spencer’s jacket. 

“Oh. Uh. Here you go,” you offered it back to him. 

Spencer took it from you, immediately beginning to overexplain himself. “Sorry, I just thought you looked kind of cold and your shirt was hanging off your shoulder so I thought it would be better if I-”

“Spencer,” you cut him off. “I was just going to say thank you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing. Let’s just get out of here and back home.” You offered him a warm smile, reassurance that he hadn’t overstepped your boundaries. 

You found it quite endearing, actually- him having covered you up. When he smiled back, your stomach did a backflip. God, you were screwed. 

The two of you hurriedly packed up the files strewn about the precinct and drove back to the hotel. The flight home was relatively uneventful. You did, however, notice Luke giving you one of his mischievous smiles. Halfway through the flight, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Luke, what is your deal?” you asked quietly not to wake JJ, seated next to you. Spencer, who sat across from the table on the jet’s couch, sneaked a glance up from his book, slyly listening in to the conversation you’d started. 

“Did you have a nice nap earlier this evening, Y/N?” Luke asked jokingly. 

You rolled your eyes. “As a matter of fact, I did. Why are you asking?” 

Luke glanced over at Spencer. “I saw loverboy went out of his way to keep you warm.”

It was your turn to glance at Spencer, whose cheeks were turning pink as his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked back down at his book, acting as though he wasn’t listening. 

You leaned forward across the table. “Look, Luke. I’m not sure what delusions Penelope is feeding you, but Spencer and I are just friends. Just like me and you. Just like me and everyone on this team.”

“Uh huh,” Luke said, unconvinced. He popped a piece of candy into his mouth. “When’s the last time you spent three evenings at my apartment?” 

“Maybe I would spent three evenings at your apartment if you were intelligent and mature enough to keep up an adult conversation,” you shot back. 

Luke raised his eyebrows. “Touched a nerve there, did I?” he joked. 

“It isn’t funny, Luke,” you scolded. “And for that matter, I happen to be seeing someone.” 

That caught everyone’s attention. You saw Spencer twitch out of the corner of your eye, his brow furrowing has his grip on the book in his hands became firmer. Luke laughed. 

“You have been going out with someone?” he asked, somewhat incredulously. 

You took offense to his reaction. “Why is that so hard to believe?” 

Luke shrugged. “I don’t know. I just hadn’t heard about this before.”

“Well, I don’t exactly go out of my way to talk about my personal life. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you tapped the empty coffee cup in your hands. “I need to replenish my supply.” 

You made your way to the back of the jet. Seeing the coffee pot empty, you began the task of brewing more. 

“Was that true?” Spencer asked from behind you. 

“Jesus,” you said, trying not to jump out of your skin, “You’ve really got to quit sneaking up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” He stood awkwardly in the doorway, blocking your view of the rest of the jet. “But was it true?”

“Which part?” you challenged, watching the dark liquid fill the pot.

“The part about you seeing someone.” 

Your cheeks reddened. “No. It wasn’t true. I just wanted to get Luke off my back,” you admitted. 

Spencer sighed what almost sounded like a sigh of relief. “Was the rest of it true?” he continued. 

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, genuinely confused as to what he was referencing.

Spencer took a step closer to you, and you could feel the heat coming off his body as he looked down at you. He lowered his voice to a near whisper, “The part about us just being friends.” 

Oh. 

“Well, I- you know we haven’t really ever discussed if we would even… I- I don’t know,” you stuttered. 

Spencer nodded and the serious expression on his face faded to his normal friendly facade. “Right. I just wanted to check,” he said casually before making his way back to his seat. 

You were in shock regarding the conversation that had just occurred and remained that way for the rest of the flight. You found yourself glancing at Spencer often and occasionally, you’d catch him looking at you too.

You put your headphones in, in an attempt to take your mind off of it. The reprieve of the music in your ears was short-lived as JJ nudged your shoulder. “Did you hear Emily?” she asked. 

“What? No, what did I miss?” you looked around, confused, before Emily appeared beside you. 

“Sorry, I should’ve checked to make sure everyone could hear me,” she apologized. “Change of plans. We’re stopping in Tennessee. I just got a call from an old colleague. They need some help.”

You tried to hide your disappointment. All you wanted to do was get home to go to bed. Not to mention, you needed time to think over this whole Spencer thing. However, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen. 

Two hours later, you were on the ground in Nashville. 

The team stumbled into a hotel lobby. It was 2 a.m. You could tell you all looked terrible, and you weren’t sure you all smelled much better.

“Alright,” Emily said, coming back from the check-in counter. “Here’s the deal. Since I booked last minute, I could only get four rooms. We’re going to have to double up.” 

You watched as pairs were quickly formed. JJ and Emily stepped to one side. Tara and Luke to another. Rossi and Matt even joined up. You and Spencer stood awkwardly next to each other. 

“Right, well, here are your keys,” she handed you the room keys for yourself and Spencer. You sighed and took off for the elevator, Spencer in tow. 

The elevator ride and walk to the room passed without a word. When you stepped into the hotel room, you immediately flopped your bags on the ground and dropped to the floor. 

For the first time in two hours, Spencer spoke. “What are you doing?” 

You didn’t get up, still lying prone on the floor. “Relaxing.”

“Do you know how many germs are on the floor of a hotel room? If I had to estimate, based on research-”

“Spence, please,” you cut him off, “I’m getting up, I’m getting up.” You rolled over and sat up, looking up at him. 

It was also the first real glimpse you’d caught of the room since arriving, and you felt your stomach drop when you grasped one key detail. 

There was only one bed. 

Oh. Oh. 

Spencer followed your eyes to the single bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said sincerely. 

You scoffed. “Spencer, that’s ridiculous. You’ve told me time and time again how your back bothers you because of these terrible hotel beds. I can’t imagine what state sleeping on the floor would leave you in. I’ll do it.” 

He shook his head. “I would never expect you to do that.”

“I know." you weighed your words carefully. “We can share the bed, you know? It won’t be a big deal. As long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Spencer looked between you and the bed for a moment. “Okay,” he said simply, throwing his bag on the ground. “Do you prefer a certain side?” 

You hummed, standing up from the floor. “Do I want the slide closer to the AC or the side closer to the window?”

Spencer smiled, raising his eyebrows. “These are some tough decisions.”

You nodded. “I’ll take the window. You can have the vent.” 

“How thoughtful,” he quipped. 

You bent over and began going through your bag. “You can go ahead and shower first, Spence.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

Grabbing his bag, he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. You heard the click of the lock and sighed in a mix of relief and disappointment. He hadn’t brought up your previous conversation. Maybe he hadn’t meant it or maybe he meant it differently than you interpreted.

Pulling your pajamas from your bag, you resigned yourself to sit on the edge of the bed and wait. Minutes later, Spencer reappeared. His hair, slightly damp, hung down over his eyes. He wore a pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose t-shirt that clung nicely to his biceps. 

He looked good. Really good. 

You were lucky you didn’t start drooling right there. Spencer caught your gaze. “Is there something on my shirt?” he asked seriously. 

You shook your head, averting your eyes. “No! I mean - no. Not at all. I’m just tired.” You stood up from the bed and without another word, shut yourself in the bathroom in an attempt to get yourself under control. 

SPENCER’S POV

It had been five minutes and seventeen seconds since Y/N went to take a shower. I laid back on the bed, head propped up by some pillows, and thought as the time passed. 

It had been five minutes and forty-five seconds of me thinking about how to approach this conversation with her. 

I knew after our exchange on the plane that I’d have to come to terms with my feelings eventually. Even if I’d only known her for a month, I couldn’t help but gravitate towards her. I loved her smile, the way she laughed at my jokes, and how she genuinely listened when I talked. 

Most of all, I was starting to think I loved her. 

When I heard the bathroom door open, I tried to be nonchalant. I reached for my book on the side table and quickly began reading through it, flipping pages as I finished them. I felt a dip in the bed and saw her sit on the edge out of my periphery. 

She was slipping her socks on, facing away from me, her damp her hanging loosely in front of her face. I wanted to do nothing more than tuck it behind her ear and kiss her right then and there. 

I had to be logical, I told myself. I shook the thoughts away and tried to focus on the book in my hands. 

READER’S POV

Spencer didn’t speak to you when you came out from the shower, offering only a glance and a small smile as he skimmed through the book in his hands. After slipping on your socks, you tucked yourself under the covers next to him, turning off the light next to your side of the bed. 

It was silent for a moment before you heard his book thud down on the side table. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, flipping the lamp off.

“Night, Spence,” you said back. You rolled to your side so your back was to him, trying to minimize the amount of space you took up in the bed. 

The two of you stayed that way for twenty minutes. You breathed slowly, trying not to think about the man in the bed next to you. Just when you thought you may have relaxed enough to drift off to sleep, the lamp next to Spencer’s side of the bed flipped on.

You kept your eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as you felt him shift in the bed. You wondered if he was just restless, struggling to wind down after working so many cases back to back. Seconds later, he spoke.

“I know you’re awake. I think we should talk,” he said quietly. 

Your eyes shot open. You rolled over to face him, trying to remain calm. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Let’s play a game,” he suggested. Your eyebrows shot up. You did enjoy a good competition. “I’ll ask you a question, you ask me a question. How does that sound?” Spencer asked. 

You searched his eyes for any hint of mischief but found none. Who were you to say no? You sat up in the bed, crisscrossing your legs as you faced him. 

“Shoot,” you challenged him. 

“Does it bother you when the team suggests we’re romantically involved?” 

You hadn’t quite expected that one. You looked around the room, taking a deep breath as you pondered. “Not as much as it probably should. Does it bother you?” you countered. 

Spencer shook his head. “Only when I thought it made you uncomfortable. Now that I know it doesn’t, no.” He paused for a second, narrowing his eyes at you as he tried to pick out his next question. 

During this lull, you reached for your water bottle on the side table and took a quick drink. “Do you find me attractive?” he asked. 

You nearly spit out your water. 

You sat up a bit straighter, trying not to let him see just how attractive you thought he was. “Well… that’s quite a direct question. But, yeah. Yeah, I think you’re attractive.” 

Spencer nodded, satisfied, though he didn’t look smug. Just content. 

“Do you think I’m attractive?” you asked. 

Spencer glanced up at you, his hands folding and unfolding in his lap as he tapped the tips of his fingers against his thigh. “Very,” he admitted. 

The two of you were quiet once more, not sure what to do with this newfound information. 

Spencer cleared his throat and you could hear the doubt and concern seeping into his voice when he spoke again. “Does it bother you that I’m older than you are?” 

You figured that was coming. “No. You’ve never made me feel younger or dumber for it. I often forget we aren’t the same age.” You shrugged before continuing. “Does it bother you that I’m younger?”

Spencer thought for a moment. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I was just afraid you’d think I was strange for finding you attractive since you are younger than I am.” 

You laughed. “Spencer, I find you strange for many reasons, but our age difference is not one of them.” 

Spencer smiled shyly at you. He seemed to appreciate the endearing way you used the word “strange” to describe him.

“Can-” he stuttered for a moment, you could tell he was nervous about his next question. He took a breath, building confidence. “Can I kiss you?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes widening immediately. He turned a bright shade of crimson, his confidence seemingly wavering. “You can say no, of course. I’m sorry if I made this weird, I just thought-”

“You can kiss me,” you interjected. He looked at you, his crimson blush fading away but his eyes still uncertain. “I’d like for you to, actually,” you reassured. 

Spencer sat up straighter on the bed, his earlier expression gone serious as he moved closer to you. He gently placed one hand on your cheek, holding you in place as his lips met yours. 

His lips were soft. In fact, everything he was doing was soft. The way he gently cupped your face, the way his other hand had come up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the way his mouth moved against yours. His tongue probed your mouth open, a small moan eliciting from him when you allowed him access. 

The tenderness disappeared quickly as he kissed you with more urgency. The two of you fell back on the bed like teenagers. 

His hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you firmly against him. You tested the waters by moving your hands up his back and into his hair, earning a sigh of approval on his part. 

You slipped a hand under the front of his shirt, trailing your fingers across his chest. He pulled away from you, gently grabbing your hand.

“Too far?” you asked in a small panic, quickly withdrawing your hand from under the fabric of his shirt.

“Not at all,” he shook his head sincerely. “I just don’t want to get carried away.” 

Spencer sat up, his hand on your waist bringing you up with him. You both leaned back against the bed, your head resting on his chest. 

“I want to do everything with you,” he said lowly. You could feel his voice rumble through his chest as he spoke. “I want to do all of this and more. However, I do believe you deserve more than some random hotel with the guy who has only known you for a month.” 

“You're not a random guy," you corrected. You were a bit disappointed, but you understood and appreciated his sentiment. It was silent for a moment. "So where do we go from here?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

Spencer smiled, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist. “I think I should start by asking you on a date. How do you feel about Vietnamese food?” 

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “You know I am very passionate about pho,” you joked. 

“Yeah,” he rested his chin on the top of your head, “How about when we get back, we go out on a real date, in a real restaurant that isn’t my apartment, and we make this something real?”

You lifted your head up to meet his gaze at eye level. “I’d love to,” you said with a smile. “On one condition,” you added. 

It was his turn to act surprised. “What’s that?” 

“That you don’t refrain from kissing me until then. I do enjoy being close to you,” you answered. 

Spencer grinned at you. His arm around your waist pulled you in for a soft kiss on the lips. After a moment, he pulled away. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered.

You laid your head back on his chest as he flicked off the side table lamp, the two of you quickly falling asleep wrapped in each others' arms.

[d33pd3sire-blog]

Fill me up, buttercup.

NSFW TW: strap, detailed descriptions of cockwarming, implied sex.

How do y'all write smut this shit is harddd (that's what she said hehehe)

Hope y'all enjoy :)

The sound of clacking bottles and huffing can be heard from the hallway as you're getting into the dress you had picked out. You smile, knowing how cute Emily gets when she huffs.

'You good?' you yell from the bedroom. There's no response but Emily appears in the doorway looking sheepish.

'Wanna do my makeup for me? I can't seem to do it right.' she admits. Your eyes light up at the request, knowing how much fun this could be.

'Of course, let me just grab something first. Sit over there I'll be back in a second.' Emily does as she's told and grabs the chair from your desk, sitting down and waiting for you. A few seconds later you come back holding her purple strap.

'Put this on for me?' You tried to be confident in your choice to ask but was still worried as to what her reaction might be. Emily smiles, interested, but looks down at her watch.

'Baby we have to leave in 30 minutes we don't have time for that.' You pout slightly, knowing shes right.

'I know we don't, but we don't have to have sex. I just want you to fill me up, and who knows! Could be a nice intimate experience for the both of us.' You give Emily a pleading look, walking closer to her. Emily bites her lip, looking at her watch one more time before getting up and taking the harness from you and putting it on.

'C'mere' Emily said, placing the harness over her legs and pulling it the straps tight. She pats her lap, waiting for you. The way she looked at you had you grasping at your underwear, before getting into position.

You grab Emilys face and lift it so you're both looking into each others' eyes. The lust that paints both of you is palpable, neither of you quite understanding how the other is capable of making them feel this way. A few seconds pass before you remove your hands and lift up the skirt of your dress, lowering yourself onto her cock.

A small moan slips from your mouth, your head falling back slightly as you reach the hilt. 'Shit.' You say. Emily filling you up sends electricity up your spine, her arms wrapping around your waist. Once you're settled, you take a deep breath and take the eyeliner from your desk behind her.

'Are you ready?' you say biting your lip. Emily nods before adjusting herself. The slight movement rubbing her cock slightly inside of you.

You quickly grab Emilys neck and gasp 'Stop. Moving.' Emily snickers, trying not to move which fails slightly. Your head falls into her shoulder as you whimper slightly.

'Okay okay, I'll stop. You gotta finish my makeup before we leave because im not going to Rossi's with one wing okay?' She smiles at you and you take a deep breath.

'Okay stay still.' Each second that passes, makes you more and more desperate to thrust your hips. Emily catches on. Before you could get any gratification, Emilys hands land on your hips and holds you in place.

You whine in protest. 'Hey you wanted this remember?' Emily grins at you. You huff, getting back to the task at hand.

A few minutes go by, you desperate to finish her makeup. Emily loved the way you would gasp and whimper every time she would move or jolt.

'There, all done.' You sigh, moving your legs to lift yourself off of her. 'Wait.' Emily stopped you, glancing at her watch. The face she pulled gave her away.

'Do we have time?' you ask. Secretly praying that you were fast enough. Emily grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, standing and walking towards the bed. Both of you giggling and chuckling at each other like hyenas.

'I think we could squeeze this in.' She drops you onto the bed. Safe to say you guys were late that night, but neither of you cared.

[hotchnersangel]

GIRL, SO CONFUSING!

Aaron Hotchner

a/n: i’ve been watching an awful lot of love island so this is very angry girl staying composed confrontation core.

warnings: jealousy, oc! vs you, bombshell!reader, angry girl core, (not an accurate representation of beth in the show),

————————

Aaron Hotchner was a proud man, not in a bad way, quite literally the opposite. He had built up his reputation, he had loved and lost but that had never been his priority. He somehow felt content in his life with different kinds of love, like the one he felt for the bau team, or... well, you. It was different to the team, it made him comfortable. He knew you, and you knew him. Everyone knew you as a pair, if you were seperate, well that would be awkward. Though, your platonic love hadn't been a relationship, not nearly. Maybe the lines between platonic and romantic were hazy sometimes but that did not mean that you were together, You were both adamant that you were not, always shutting people down when they suggested the idea of it.

Recently, Aaron had started seeing a new woman, her name was Beth. She was sweet at first and she stayed that way to the team, though it didn't feel that way with you. Overtime, she seemed to reject yours and Aaron's relationship, which you didn't like because he could be friends with who he likes. You would understand if you and Aaron had a history, but you didn't. Simple, you were friends, best friends and Beth tried to accept it, but she didn't. Instead, you resulted in pretending to get along with one another, though you all know that it's so far from the truth.

The bau were round Rossi's house, having a 'family' dinner and coincidentally you were sat opposite Beth, forced to stare at her the whole evening. Deep joy.

"So, Beth... you got your hair done?" You try start a friendly conversation with her. In return you get a short smile and a nod.

"Yeah, I did." She replies and you awkwardly smile at her, not knowing what to reply.

"You guys are twinning now..." JJ tries to break the ice but it had the opposite effect, Beth just straightened her posture and tried to pass the comment off. The silence on our side of the table was thick, the raw unspoken awkwardness of a lack of common ground.

"You guys do say we are alike..." you say nonchalantly, trying to diffuse some tension with some humour.

Beth laughs and shakes her head. "I don't see it."

You give JJ a look sharing unspoken pleas for a new convo topic, you hide your smile behind your wine glass as you take a sip.

"So," JJ looks at you with a smile, "How is that boyfriend of yours doing?" This catches Hotch's attention now as he joins in the conversation.

You laugh, "I mean... it is a bit of fun really but I don't think it's anything serious." you shrug, telling them the truth.

"I never did like him really," Aaron shrugs, smiling at you and you laugh shaking you head. "Believe me, I know you didn't."

"I think you should see how it goes," Beth says and shrugs and everyone looks confused at one another, considering all she knew about him was that he was a bit of 'fun'.

You laugh awkwardly, looking at Aaron who furrowed his brows slightly but brushed it off.

After dinner, everyone joins on the backdoor porch, sitting on the luxurious garden furniture. You were sat with Emily and JJ, observing the way Beth was practically all over Hotch.

"I really don't understand your relationship with her." Emily says bewildered.

"I genuinely can't tell if she wants to see me falling over and failing and honestly, I sort of feel the same to her." You say looking at them both now. "I'm trying to be nice but I think i really dislike her... like come on, the new hair?"

"It's a bit of a coincidence considering the fact that her man fancies the shit out of you and suddenly dresses, acts and now looks like you," Emily shrugs casually and JJ hits her playfully but has a serious tone when scolding her.

"What do you mean?" You ask furrowing your brows and laughing, "Aaron doesn't like me in that way babe."

"For profilers, you are both in extreme loss of social awareness," Spencer walks past as says, taking a seat next to Emily. "Around 85-90% of people can be considered to lack a significant social awareness because they don't fully understand their own self-awareness, for example-"

"What Pretty boy is trying to say pretty lady, is that you and Hotch are in love but you don't see it yet." Moran waltzes in and states, bringing along a gushing Garcia and Rossi.

"Aaron's happy. I want him to be happy and I truly think he is with Beth." You state, diverting the conversation. Beth and Aaron walk over after that comment and you smile at them.

"Beth, I'm having a party for new years round mine... you should come." you offer kindly, wanting some peace considering she is dating your best friend.

"I don't really do parties." She retorts.

"Come on, it will be good to put your hands up a bit, have a little dance." You offer with a smile and she smiles awkwardly in return.

"I think i'll leave that to you babe." She smiles passively agressive at you. "I'm in a happy relationship."

You furrow your brows, "What's that got to do with anything?"

Everyone is watching the two of you bounce against one another now, flicking their heads like they're watching a tennis match. You're even sure you saw Rossi pass Emily a handful of popcorn.

"It means, I dont go whoring around babe." She smiles patronisingly and everyone looks shocked.

"Beth-" Aaron tries to step in.

"No- Aaron, I can handle this, thank you though." You say kindly to him, looking back to Beth. "No wonder you're so tight Beth, because I'm having a party? How am I a whore?"

"That's the type of party I see you throwing," she shrugs.

"That's an orgy babe," you retort, "Clearly you're opinions are too fixed to comprehend that not everyone's actions are centred around male validation."

She scoffs, "You're a fine one to talk like that. Clearly it's something you crave if it's all you look for in my boyfriend, hear that, mine. It's why you can't get in your own loving relationship babe."

You actually laugh in her face, the others trying to bump in but you stop them. "Girl, you're so confusing sometimes. I genuinely can't tell what I have done to give you the impression that I would 'steal' your boyfriend, whether I liked him or not, you should one have trust in him to not do that to you- which Aaron by the way, clearly would never do, and two, I am not the type of girl to go after another girl full stop. Whether it is her or her man, you don't do that as a woman, babe."

"Oh and you're so perfect aren't you?" she shoots back.

"Perfect enough to tell you that you don't have to change your appearance to look like me because you believe that your boyfriend is in love with me." You state quieter, knowing everyone had concluded that, but wanting to keep her confrontation private.

"You're a self centered bitch, you know that?"

"You know, we are totally different after all. You need to berate other women to feel good about yourself and I do not. Please, do yourself a favour and work on those thoughts. Be kinder to yourself and you will feel less worried about these things." You state directly.

"Aaron, we're leaving." she gets up angrily, walking to the door.

"No, Beth. You're leaving." He says crossing his arms and moving besides you, placing his hand on your shoulder in support. "I think you made a decision for me."

————————

[marvelwitchergilmore]

First Name Basis

Summary: Aaron Hotchner x Fe!Reader -> You and Hotch have never been on First Name Basis, but as the years go on, thing begin to change.

Disclaimer: Mentions and descriptions of blood, bombs, life being in danger, slight spoilers for S4-Ep3 (Minimal Loss - Reader takes Emily's place) (But that isn't the whole fic). BAU found-family fluff, romantic fluff, soft fluff, happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You were on a first name basis with everyone. Everyone save from Hotch. 

Of course, he would introduce you with your first name when it came to meeting police departments or official personnel but to anyone else, specifically yourself, he always used your last name. 

And you did the same with him. Like the rest of them. 

It was always “Sir,” or “Hotch,”. 

Never Aaron. 

However, this all changed after a case in Colorado. 

Yourself and Reid had gone undercover as Child Protection Agents. And it wasn’t long until things went wrong. An unknown police raid meant everyone was taken underground. And a media segment revealed that someone was FBI. 

Between yourself and Spencer, you took the rapt. You weren’t willing to watch him get shot and die. 

On the other side of the planted bug, the team could hear everything. 

And it was killing Hotch.

And Rossi could see it. 

They all could. 

His own mind was fighting against listening because he had to, and not because you were being beaten. 

A small grunt left you as you were thrown into something, and then a crash came. A mirror most likely. More grunts and one scream before…nothing. 

It was the first time in a long time his emotions had started pushing to the surface. 

Every day, he had to become an emotionless yet empathetic profiler. But at that moment…he didn’t know what he was. He was a profiler, a friend, a…he didn’t know what he was. 

“Y/n…”

His voice was barely audible. A hair above a whisper. 

But Rossi saw it. 

Even if Aaron didn’t know it yet, Rossi knew. 

Then you spoke. 

“I can take it.”

There were more sounds of fighting before another. 

“I can take it.”

“She’s antagonising him!” Derek shouted. 

“No, she’s not.”

“She’s talking to us.” Hotch told them both. “She’s telling us not to come in.”

And he didn’t. 

It was killing him not to do so, but he didn’t. 

But the moment he got a chance, writing the time of “3 am” on the takeaway box, he wouldn’t be turning back. 

When he finally saw you, a wave of relief washed over him. And the same happened for you, too. 

Once you both caught clear sight of one another, you ran towards him. 

He could see the dried blood on your face, partly washed away. And your eye was bruised. And your arms were cut up, most likely from the mirror that had broken. 

But you were alive. 

Finally reaching him, you hugged him. And he hugged you. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I will be. Where’s Morgan and Reid?”

“They’re inside-”

The place blew up. 

Hotch covered you a little, both of you feeling the aftershock of the bomb. The hand you kept on his shoulder pulled him down a little with you. But after you made sure the other was alive, you both turned back to the building. And you started walking closer to it. 

“Morgan! Reid!”

They stood up. 

“Oh, thank god.”

Making your way up the stairs, you met a coughing Morgan and Reid before Reid finally stood tall and you hugged him. 

After that case, everything seemingly went back to normal. 

Until another case came, only a few months later. 

A bomb had been planted in a building. And, when tracking the Unsub into another one, yourself and Hotch had found yourselves stuck. 

The Unsub held a trigger, and by the looks of it, he was wearing one. 

But you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in your stomach. 

Something wasn’t right. 

“So, what happens next? You blow yourself up? What happened to “getting all the glory”? That’s what you said, isn’t it? In your message. It was all about the glory.”

Yourself and Hotch took another step forward, but then he unzipped his jacket. 

“Another step and I take my finger off the trigger.” He warned. 

Neither of you moved, but your gaze did switch. 

The bomb the Unsub was wearing wasn’t one you recognised. It wasn’t his type. 

By the time SWAT and Bomb Disposal met you at the top of the building, it wasn’t long before he just…gave up. 

“He took hostages from the last site.”

“But we found them all.” 

Hotch nodded in agreement. “I still want to do a sweep just in case.”

“I’ll come with you.”

By the time you both reached the fourth floor, you still couldn’t shake the feeling. 

And just as Hotch reached a small storage unit, it clicked. 

“It was a fake.”

“What?”

“The bomb, around his chest. It’s a fake.”

“Why fake a bomb and then give yourself up?”

Then it clicked with the both of you. 

“How many agents are in this building?”

“Enough to keep this case in the news for the next fifty years.”

“We need to clear the building now.”

By the time you both reached the floor, calling for every agent to clear the building, someone came and found Hotch. 

“We found his briefcase. You’re gonna want to see this.”

Walking over, both yourself and Aaron peered inside. There were plans, memos, and enough cash to give him a whole new life in any country he could possibly want. 

“Get all of this processed as soon as you can.”

And Hotch walked away. 

But you stayed. 

However, the longer you stayed, the bigger that gnawing feeling in your stomach grew again. 

And once you finally lifted a pile of cash, you saw it. 

A watch with a timer. 

“Morgan! Clear the area, now!”

People started running but when you did so, Hotch was still in his place. 

“Aaron!”

Grabbing his arm on your way past, you both started running. And whether it was luck, or fate or…whatever it was. Yourself and Aaron managed to clear the site fast enough so as to not die from the explosion. 

You both were propelled forward, and landed, rolling onto the ground. And for a few moments, were stunned from the blast. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, managing to catch your breath. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I think so.”

Once you were able to open your eyes, you sat back on your heels and took a look at Hotch. He was sitting in a similar position to you, except he was bleeding. 

You pushed yourself closer to him, “Jesus, Hotch. You’re bleeding.”

Once you touched it, he seemed to feel it and tried to move his head away from your hand, but you pulled him back. 

“Don’t move.”

Through your wire, you called for a medic. 

“Y/l/n, I’m fine.”

“Hotch, you’re bleeding. You’re not fine.”

“So are you.”

You shook your head and turned away for a moment, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the torn piece of your t-shirt. 

“Wait.”

Hotch took the cloth from your hands before tearing it into two and handing you a piece back, but keeping one for himself. 

Just as you pressed the cloth to his head, he did the same for your cut. There wasn’t much blood coming from your head, so once he knew that had slowed at least, he dabbed at the wound on your arm before tying the piece tight around your arm. 

Once the medics finally reached you both, you told them what injuries Hotch had and might have. 

“Check her over, too. She’s got a cut on her head. She could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

The medic had helped you up from the floor and when they did so, you felt a little dizzy. 

Hotch didn’t even have to say anything. 

“Shut up.”

Thankfully, the next time either of you talked on a first name basis was when on a short vacation. 

Considering the fact that no-one of the team was due to go on holiday or drive out of state for at least three more days, Penelope Garcia took it upon herself to plan a small getaway for the entire team that meant even if they got called back (as you all usually would), you would have, at least, a break away. 

So, on a random Friday morning, you all drove to the beach. 

And it was fun, to say the least. 

By the time you arrived, you parked next to Will’s car. Both himself and JJ were getting Henry ready along with the beach bags and diaper bags. From what you could tell, everyone else was already on the beach. 

“Need some help?”

JJ nodded. “That would be great.”

“Hi, Henry. Is this his first trip to the beach?”

JJ smiled and nodded. “It is.”

“We did try and take him a few weeks ago but then he got a fever.” Will told you. 

“Well, it’ll all be worth it.”

Will handed you a couple of the bags whilst he carried the rest and JJ carried Henry, along with her beach bag, onto the beach. 

The minute you spotted Morgan flirting with a group of women a few feet from the water, you spotted Jack playing in the sand with Emily and Penelope. Spencer was trying to avoid the sun and Hotch was finishing setting up the area with a couple of windbreakers and chairs, with Rossi. 

And once you, JJ and Will arrived; the two dads continued setting up with the addition of sun parasols. 

It wasn’t long before Jack had come running up to get his dad and yourself to join him. JJ handed you Henry for a moment whilst she dug through the diaper bag to find the fruit pouches she had brought with her. 

From behind you, Aaron set up another parasol giving both yourself and Henry shade.

“I’ve put Henry’s fruit pouches in the cooler. Ready to go?”

Lifting her son from your arms, JJ carried Henry down to the water whilst Will grabbed his camera. And yourself and Aaron joined Jack, Emily and Penelope. 

By the end of the day, you had all swam in the water, built sandcastles, sunbathed, read and even been chased by Morgan when he realised yourself. Reid and Hotch had been hustling him in a game of football. 

And at some point after all of that, you must have fallen asleep because you woke up to someone lightly shaking your shoulder. 

“Y/n, hey, y/n…”

As you slowly came around, you realised it was Hotch. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.” 

It was odd. 

His voice was soft. It was rare, if slightly unbelievable, that Hotch showed this side of him. The one he had for Jack. The one he had for those he held close to his heart. 

“The others went for some food, they should be back soon. Garcia said she knew your order. Pizza with fries and a side of pickles.”

“That’s my girl.” You said with a sleepy smile. 

“Pickles? With Pizza? Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

Then he laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

You smiled at his laughter. And then you thought. In all the years you knew him, you couldn’t think of a time where you had heard him laugh. Sure, you’d seen him smile a little over the years. But before The Beach…you had never heard him laugh. 

And it was like music to your ears. 

Unknown, at first, but then very quickly became your favourite song. 

By the time the others got back, Jack was excited you were awake and ran over to you, jumping towards you and you fell back with him in your arms. 

Aaron laughed again, “Jack, let Y/n breathe.”

“Penelope got you pickles.”

“Extra pickles.” She said as she handed you the pizza box and takeaway tub with fries and pickles. 

“Have I ever told you you’re a saint?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well you are a Saint, Penelope Garcia.”

“She has to be, for buying you pickles with pizza.” Morgan added. 

The rest of the evening passed with stories, smiles and even more laughter. 

It was also after that day you noticed when Hotch called you by your name. It hadn’t clicked with you right away, when he woke you up. But when you fell asleep in the round table room after more than 30 hours of work, you noticed it more. 

Usually, whenever you fell asleep when case hours ran over, you would be jolted awake by someone (typically Hotch) calling your last name. 

But since The Beach, you were woken up with a soft touch to your arm, shaking you lightly, before he said your first name. 

“Go home, get some rest.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

You grumbled, sitting up. “By the time I get home, I’ll be on my way back.”

Hotch sighed. “Fine. But you can use the sofa in my office. It’s better than your desk.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

However, a few months later, something else changed. 

A case had been brought into the roundtable room, and everyone was there. Except for you. 

“Not like Y/l/n to be late.” Rossi said, pulling out his chair. 

“Try her again.” Hotch told Garcia. 

“Yes, Sir.”

“Maybe she’s just catching up on sleep.” JJ offered. 

“Why would she be catching up on sleep? We all landed back here two nights ago.”

“Is she dating?” Morgan asked. 

Hotch looked up. 

“No, but her neighbours are.” JJ told them. 

“Ooh, that’s gotta be tough.” Prentiss said. “Back in college, I had a roommate the same. Many sleepless nights. That was when I bought my first pair of noise cancelling headphones.”

Garcia called you three more times. 

“We’ll continue with the case,” Hotch told everyone. “We can catch her up when she wakes up.”

Except two hours later, you still hadn’t picked up. 

And then Hotch got a phone call.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going to find Y/n,” Hotch told Rossi as he passed him. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“A good idea.”

“I’ll come with you.”

After thirty minutes, and eventually passing the turn for your apartment complex, Rossi spoke up. 

“Her apartment-”

“I know, but she won’t be there.”

“Then where is she?”

“She has a second home.”

Rossi didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but notice that Aaron knew the way, without having to put anything into the GPS. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Hotch sighed a little. Part of him didn’t want to, because he didn’t know if you would want anyone to know. But he’d gone this long without telling Rossi. 

“There was a crash this morning. Don’t worry, she wasn’t hurt. But one of her friends was. They’re okay, too. They’re being kept in the hospital for a few days but were more worried about Y/n’s reaction.” 

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t.”

“Well, that’s not good.”

Pulling up outside of your home, Aaron stepped out and rushed towards the door, finding the spare key and letting himself in. The doorbell camera would have let you know they were there. 

And then he called your name.

Rossi took in the structure and the decoration of your home. He didn’t know you owned a property outside of your apartment, but by the looks of it, you spent more time outside of work here than you did at your apartment. 

There were photos of yourself with your friends, as well as the team. It was tidy, and the place smelt of blueberries and cinnamon. 

Turning around the bottom of the stairs, Aaron took them two at a time before reaching the top and when he did, Rossi could see him standing on the landing, as well as stall when you called back. 

“Aaron?”

Coming from out of your room, you walked down the hall and Rossi watched as Aaron’s demeanour changed. In the car, he had been tense. In fact, he had been tense since you hadn’t walked into the office. 

But standing at the top of the stairs, hearing your voice as well as seeing you, he relaxed. 

And his voice became softer. 

“Hey,”

You walked towards him and he hugged you instantly. 

“How did you find me?”

“The hospital called. The nurse said Abby was worried about you. Are you okay?”

Aaron moved back a little to examine your face. You had been crying. Your eyes were a little puffy and your cheeks were tear-stained. 

With his thumb, he wiped away the streaks and you melted into his touch for a second. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you?” 

You nodded, “I just…it scared me, you know?”

Aaron nodded. “What do you need?”

“A hug?”

A light smile graced his lips for a moment. “I can do that.”

And he embraced you, tightly. Securely. 

Rossi smiled for a moment before quietly walking away to snoop through your house. And by the time you both walked downstairs, you hand in Aaron’s, Rossi was in the kitchen. 

“Next time Penelope tries to arrange a dinner party, we’re holding it here.”

“So long as you cook.”

“But I don’t see any-”

You and Aaron gave each other a knowing look before you moved and opened up two cabinet doors. It contained three different spice racks, a selection of dry herbs and all standard ingredients to make any one of Rossi’s signature sauces. 

He’d given you enough recipes over the years (not that you didn’t have to work to get them – there had been so many coffee runs) that you made sure you always had the main ingredients needed, and you could always pick up fresh ones on your way home. 

“You’re not the best snooper.”

“I’m a profiler. Not a detective.”

“You’re still an FBI Agent.” Aaron added, backing you up. 

“So, sue me.”

After that case, nothing else changed. 

Both yourself and Aaron remained on a first name basis. Especially considering that two years later, you and Aaron started to share the same last name.