#baby whisperer derek

[little-jana]

"The Baby Glimmer"

Pairing: husband!Aaron Hotchner x wife!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, wanting a baby, heated/romantic fade-to-black intimacy, kissing

Summary: Where Aaron gets baby fever.

a/n: Well, since most of you voted for 2nd person writing, I'll try that from now on.

The first time you noticed it, you didn’t think much of it.

Aaron and you were walking through the mall one rainy Saturday afternoon, grabbing a few things for Jack’s school project. He’d been in need of some craft supplies and, as usual, Aaron wanted everything to be perfect.

You were strolling past a baby boutique on the way to the bookstore when Aaron slowed to a stop. He glanced at the window display—a collection of tiny onesies and soft teddy bears arranged artfully—and a soft, almost wistful smile crept across his face.

You stopped beside him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

He gestured to a fluffy teddy bear in the center of the display, its bowtie slightly askew. “That’s cute,” he said simply. “Babies would love it.”

You blinked. Aaron Hotchner, notorious for his stoic demeanor, commenting on teddy bears?

“Yeah,” you replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “It’s… adorable.”

Aaron nodded, his hand briefly brushing against yours before he turned back toward the bookstore. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder, his voice calm and measured as always.

You stared after him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe he was just in a good mood.

---

Then there was JJ’s baby shower.

Aaron had insisted on going. “She’s family,” he’d said when you asked him about it. “It’s important to support her.”

And support her he did.

He spent the entire afternoon helping set up decorations, arranging tiny cupcakes on trays, and offering to hold the baby while JJ unwrapped gifts. It was… unexpected, to say the least.

At one point, you caught him holding JJ’s newborn, his expression so soft it made your chest ache. He was cooing gently, his deep voice low and soothing as he rocked the baby in his arms.

You tried not to stare. You really did. But the sight of Aaron Hotchner—gruff, protective, usually all-business—cradling a baby like it was the most natural thing in the world was enough to make anyone’s heart skip a beat.

“Wow,” Emily whispered, nudging you with her elbow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Hotch has baby fever.”

You laughed, brushing off the comment. “Please. He’s just being nice.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach fluttered when Aaron caught your eye across the room and smiled.

---

It wasn’t just JJ’s baby. It was everywhere.

You were at the grocery store one evening when it happened again. You had split up to cover more ground, and found him standing in the baby aisle when you came to find him.

“Aaron?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached.

He looked up, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he held up a tiny pair of baby shoes. “Look at these,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “They’re so small.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying fluttering thing again. “Uh… yeah,” you said slowly. “Babies tend to have small feet.”

Aaron chuckled, setting the shoes back on the shelf. “Right. Of course.”

You watched him for a moment, suspicion creeping in. Something was definitely up.

---

The team noticed it, too.

“He’s acting weird,” Derek said one afternoon, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his coffee.

“Weirder than usual?” Emily quipped, smirking.

“No, like… softer,” Derek replied, gesturing toward Aaron’s office. “Have you seen the way he’s been with JJ’s baby? Or how he’s been staring off into space lately? It’s like he’s distracted by something.”

Emily glanced at you, her eyebrows raised. “Any idea what’s going on with him?”

You shrugged, playing dumb. “No clue. Maybe he’s just tired.”

But even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the way Aaron had been looking at you lately—the way his eyes lingered just a little longer than usual, the way he reached for your hand more often, the way his touch was softer, more deliberate.

---

It all came to a head one quiet evening at home.

Jack was asleep, and Aaron and you were curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background. You’d been watching him out of the corner of your eye all night, trying to piece together what was going on in that brilliant, complicated mind of his.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Aaron,” you said, turning to face him.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes warm and attentive. “Yes?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “You’ve been… different lately. Distracted. Is everything okay?”

Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was going to brush it off. But then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he reached for your hand.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” he admitted, his voice low and steady.

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“It’s just… seeing JJ with her baby, and watching Jack grow up… It’s made me think about us. About our future.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck. “What about our future?”

Aaron’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch warm and comforting. “I’ve been thinking about having another baby. With you.”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.

“A baby?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I know it’s a big decision, and I don’t want to pressure you. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About what it would be like to build a family with you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Aaron,” you began, your voice trembling. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze filled with love and hope. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as tears spilled down your cheeks. You loved this man so much.

---

Over the next few days, you couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron’s words.

You watched him more closely than ever, noticing the way he doted on Jack, the way he smiled whenever you passed by a baby in the park, the way he held you just a little tighter at night.

And the more you thought about it, the more the idea began to take root in your heart.

It was a week later, during a quiet evening at home, that you finally found the courage to bring it up again.

You were sitting at the dining table, finishing the last of your dinner, when you set your fork down and looked at him.

“Aaron,” you said softly.

He glanced up, his expression instantly attentive. “Yes?”

You took a deep breath, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your shirt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About having a baby.”

His eyes softened, and you saw the faintest glimmer of hope in his gaze. “And?”

You smiled, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand. “And… I think I want that, too. With you.”

Aaron’s face lit up, a smile spreading across his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his deep voice warm and full of unspoken emotion.

You laughed through the tears welling in your eyes, unable to look away from the sheer adoration in his gaze. “I think I do,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

Aaron’s other hand reached up, his fingertips tenderly brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re really ready for this?” he asked, his tone quiet and reverent, like he didn’t want to break the fragile bubble of this moment.

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “With you? Yes. A thousand times yes.”

His dark eyes softened even further, the kind of look that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world to him. He kissed you then—slow and deliberate, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude into the motion.

When he finally pulled back, you noticed the faintest mischievous glint in his eye, something you rarely saw but secretly adored. His lips quirked into a small, almost playful smile.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, “if we’re going to have a baby… shouldn’t we start practicing?”

You blinked at him, stunned for half a second before a breathless laugh escaped your lips. “Oh, really?” you teased, tilting your head as you looked at him. “You don’t waste any time, do you?"

His grin widened just a fraction as he leaned closer, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of your hand. “Why would I, when we could make this moment count?” His voice was a low rumble now, filled with a heated edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

The air between you shifted—charged and electric, crackling with the kind of tension that made your pulse race.

“Aaron…” You whispered, your voice catching in your throat as he cupped your cheek, his touch so gentle yet so deliberate.

“Yes?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, teasing you with just the faintest ghost of a kiss.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He hummed low in his throat, his other hand settling on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. “I don’t plan to.”

The next kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was full of unspoken promises and barely contained need, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.

You gasped as he shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms as though you weighed nothing. Your hands tangled in his shirt as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips never straying far from yours.

[nereidprinc3ss]

drunk in love

in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there

fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight

“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 

“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 

“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists. 

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses. 

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout. 

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles. 

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face. 

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 

“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”

[de4dlyniightshade]

I just imagine that like Spencer HATES being vocal but the boys so sensitive he can't help but moan like a whore

THISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. DIE ON IT.

HEADCANON SEGMENT!!! :3

i just know he's fighting for his life every time you give him a handjob, his eyes squeezed shut while he grips anything he can, trying so hard not to let any sounds slip out but he just can't help but let out cute little whimpers and gasps.

prince(he's too cute to be a king)of overstimulation!!! he'd take it like such a champ, letting you milk him dry until he can't even think for himself, he'd just moan and whimper and beg.

would literally almost bust when you whispered something like "let me hear you, baby" and just can't help but moan like a SLUT

every time you two go at it at least one neighbour complains bcs he's just so loud, practically screaming your name over and over.

honestly for the longest time he managed to convince you he was just quiet naturally but his facade fell the first time you overstimulated him, which was completely by accident, spencer, unbeknownst to you, had already rubbed one out before coming over but you pounced on him as soon as he was through the door so he was still sensitive and reactive, you thumb rubbing his tip making him let out an almost pornographic moan.

one of your favourite things to do is touch him in public, like in a bathroom or changing room so nobody would see you but he'd have to force himself to be quiet so you wouldn't get caught, your rule being that he wasn't allowed to cover his mouth, he had to just keep quiet.

you'd never been with someone so vocal before and you honestly don't think you could go back, you were addicted to the way he babbled almost incoherently, the pleasure going to his head and making him speak his mind, which is when he said some of the sweetest things to you, like how beautiful you are and how much he loves you and the way you make him feel.

one time derek came to spencer's apartment to drop something off while you two were preoccupied, the sound of spencer's loud moaning and whining being very audible even from outside his door, which started the constant teasing and fake moaning around the bureau.

i honestly might have to write a fic abt this>:3

[spencerreidenjoyer]

guess | spencer reid x reader

wc: 2.3k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk during sex), lingerie, munch!spencer, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

a/n: heavily inspired by guess by charli xcx ft. billie eilish, specifically billie's verse. yes the song dropped yesterday. yes i listened to the song once and decided to write a fic about it. i'm insane about s7/8 reid rn so :) (also posted on ao3!)

You swear you don’t mean to show off, but the miniskirt you’re in doesn’t help your case in the slightest.

Spencer had told you to join him at the bar for drinks with his coworkers, the bar just a couple blocks down from the club you were at with your friends. Your boyfriend had been away for most of this week and you really wanted to see him, so you don’t think twice about popping by to see Spencer. Besides, you hadn’t seen Penelope, JJ and Emily in a while either, and those girls treat you too kindly.

You realise how skimpily dressed you are when you walk into the bar, though, when you approach the very properly-dressed group of FBI agents at a booth in the corner. Your top is cropped and low-cut, revealing your cleavage, and you were wearing a little black miniskirt, the hem of which barely skirted the tops of your thighs.

Spencer has never commented on your fashion choices, often being the very satisfied recipient of your sometimes revealing outfits. But as you greet the BAU, his eyes are dark and hungry as they roam your figure. You smile at him with a whispered “Hi, baby,” before you kiss him chastely. The look on Spencer’s face is unreadable, other than the fact that you know he appreciates the view.

His gaze darts up at Derek from across the booth when he whistles at you.

“Looking good, mama.” Derek waggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a smack to the chest from Penelope and a hearty chuckle from Emily.

You lean over to hug JJ, Penelope and Emily in that order on the other side of the table, and you feel Spencer’s hand quickly snake across your waist, pulling you back to sit down. You glance over at him briefly, but he only keeps his gaze straight ahead.

“You are one lucky guy, Reid,” Emily laughs, and you feel Spencer’s arm curl around you tighter, pulling you in closer.

The rest of the night is pretty fun, cracking jokes and talking with Spencer’s team, but with the alcohol in your system from earlier, it only takes a few more drinks for you to get drunk. You’re extra giggly, half-sitting in Spencer’s lap, his hand not leaving your side. You feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, saying, “I think we’re going to head home first. This one here seems a little drunk already.”

“I’m not drunk,” you lilt, rolling your eyes. You lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder, blinking hard before you meet Penelope’s gaze. You hear Emily defending you about how you aren’t drunk, but Penelope smiles at you and says, “I think boy genius is right.”

You frown deeply, almost comically so. “Penny! You’re supposed to back me up here!”

Penelope laughs, always so kind to you. “Come on, honey. Let Reid take you home.”

You huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child. You don’t notice the way Spencer’s gaze darts down to your chest shamelessly. Derek whistles, and you assume Spencer must glare at him because Derek is raising his hands in surrender, telling Spencer he doesn’t mean anything. What were they even talking about? You don’t know, but Spencer is murmuring in your ear about getting a taxi home, and after you say goodbye to all of his friends, you’re letting him guide you out of the bar and into the cool night.

You shiver, the very little fabric you have on not doing you any favours when the temperature drops. Spencer is quick to shrug off his jacket and help you put it on. His jacket is long enough on you, considering Spencer’s height, to cover your skirt.

“I swear alcohol’s supposed to warm you up,” you grumble, holding your arms close to your chest as you try to stay warm. “I’m fucking freezing.”

“You feel warmer for a bit because the alcohol is a vasodilator – it causes the blood vessels under your skin to dilate, increasing blood flow, which makes you feel warmer. If you drink more, the higher levels of alcohol actually work to shrink your blood vessels instead and make you feel cold. Do you have a headache?”

You shake your head, but take the chance to snuggle up to Spencer now. “You feel nice and warm.”

“Good,” Spencer says, holding you close. In no time, he flags down a taxi, and you two pile in and drive towards his apartment.

Spencer’s hand is drawing circles into the side of your thigh, mindless, but the touch is incredibly distracting. You ask him softly, “You’ve been touching me all night, Spence. Something on your mind?”

“You,” he whispers back. “Can’t stop thinking about your underwear.”

You squeak at his brazenness, smacking his chest. “You– Spencer!”

“I got a good look when you were practically bent over the table just now,” Spencer continues, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Didn’t even give me a chance to guess.”

You gape at him like a fish, but Spencer smiles and murmurs in your ear, “You know how much I love when you wear that lacy black pair.”

You bite down on your lip, trying not to moan like a whore in the back of this taxi. You just look at him, silently wishing he’d do something. Spencer presses a kiss to your jaw, and you feel your cheeks heat.

Thankfully, the driver is quick to announce that you’re at your destination, and you and Spencer stumble out of the cab quicker than you’d like to admit. Spencer doesn’t even wait for his change before he slams the car door shut.

Spencer crowds you against the back of the elevator, an old, rickety thing with no camera, so you feel less bad when Spencer slips his hand under your skirt and past your panties, his finger sliding between your wet folds. “Spencer!”

“You’re so wet for me already,” Spencer groans, kissing down your neck desperately. His fingers are so tantalising, rubbing up against your clit, your hole. “You’re so sexy.”

“Spencer,” you whine. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

The elevator doors creak open on Spencer’s floor. “Let’s go, then.”

Spencer barely locks the door behind you before he’s kissing you, eager and sloppy and desperate. It’s so hot, his large hands on your waist pulling you closer to him, and you feel the growing problem in the front of his pants.

“Spencer,” you moan. You feel his hands push up your skirt, feel him wedge his leg between your thighs. You must be soaked through your underwear by now, and you shamelessly rut your hips forward to grind against his leg.

“You know I love your fashion sense, my love, but this is slutty even for you.” Spencer’s voice is dark when he says it, and you whimper. “You’re dressed like you want somebody else’s attention.”

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. “No!”

“Derek was eyeing you like a piece of meat earlier. Emily, too.” Spencer frowns.

“I only want you, baby,” you insist, holding onto Spencer’s arms. “Only want you to notice me.”

“I am the only one who knows the colour of your underwear,” Spencer hums, his fingers skirting the waistband of your panties. “And fuck, you look good in them.”

“Please, Spence,” you whine, your plea lilting off into a gasp as Spencer lifts you, getting you to wrap his legs around him. You’d seen how he looked when he was younger, so scrawny he looked like he’d get swept away if the wind blew too hard, but now, he’s got more meat on his bones. His body is a pleasure to look at, let alone feel under your hands, which you’re happy to do now.

You touch the firm lines of his body through his shirt, as Spencer carries you to his bedroom. You mumble, hands frisky, “You’re so hot.”

“Says you,” Spencer smiles. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

You grin as he lays you on his bed, gasping when he slides his palm over your wet cunt through your underwear. His thumb flicks over your clit through the lace, the material dulling the electrifying sensation. you whine, “Spencer, please.”

Spencer tsks, looking down at you. “Let me take my time with you, darling. You’ve been teasing me all evening.”

He presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, making you moan loudly. While he tends to tower over you in bed, you also deeply appreciate the view of him getting on his knees so he can make a home between your thighs. His hair is wild, unruly, and you run your hand through it, admiring it. Keeping your gaze, Spencer leans down to kiss your pussy.

You feel his warm breath on you, the scratch of his stubble on your skin, pinned down simply by his gaze as his tongue darts out to lick you over your underwear. You whimper, as Spencer wraps his arms around each of your thighs, using you as an anchor as he presses his face between your legs.

You sob, because what Spencer’s giving you just isn’t enough, not when you need to feel his tongue on your cunt. He thumbs at your hole through the fabric, dipping into your wetness in a cruel approximation of the pleasure he usually gives you.

“Fuck me,” you groan. “Take my panties off already.”

“Not yet,” Spencer hums. Instead, he pushes your panties to the side, lets his fingers slide over your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his rough, calloused fingers sliding over your wetness, and then you feel the warmth of his tongue.

The sounds his mouth makes as he eats you out are filthy, obscene. His tongue flicks over your cunt with a practised precision, familiar with what makes you tick, the wet, slick sounds too overwhelming. Your toes are curling with how good Spencer makes you feel – legs trembling, breathing heavy. You can’t stop the whimpers that leave your lips, almost helpless in the way you moan for him.

“Please,” your voice is shaky as you cry out for Spencer. “I need you so bad, baby."

Spencer hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine in your pleasure. “Okay, my darling.”

Finally, finally, he’s sitting up and pulling your panties down, your little skirt still pushed up to expose your cunt. You look up at him, silently wondering why he hasn’t taken it off. He plays with the soft fabric in his hands almost absentmindedly and says, “I think we should keep it on.”

You blink up at him, not coherent enough to say anything about it. Instead, you watch him take his shirt off – you whistle at the sight, while he just rolls his eyes. He unbuckles his belt and push his pants down, his cock bobbing up, hard and red and leaky. You bite your lip, thinking about how he’ll feel inside of you.

“Kiss me,” you whine, and Spencer smiles at you. He tastes of you when his lips press against yours, and he’s quick to deepen it, his tongue in your mouth, like he's close to devouring you whole.

While he kisses you hungrily, you feel his hand between your legs, moving to line himself up with your entrance. You moan as the blunt head of his cock presses up against your hole, the sensation you’ve been craving all evening. Cruelly, he rubs up against you just like that, sliding between your folds but not giving you the satisfaction you need. You’re close to biting his head off.

“Spencer–” you start, but Spencer decides to press his cock into you right at that moment, and you sob with the way his thick length splits you open. Every time he fucks you, you feel like he was made for you, filling you up in all the right ways, feeling so perfect on top of you, inside of you.

You meet his lips and kiss him lazily as he starts to thrust into you, at the perfect pace, just deep enough to hit all the right spots. It’s too good, Spencer knowing you and your pleasure like the back of his hand.

“Fuck,” Spencer groans against your mouth, finally showing some sign of his unravelling. “You’re so tight, darling.”

You gasp, groaning his name, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, feeling like you could fuse into one person with how much you’re clinging onto him. You press your forehead to his shoulder, moans punched out of you with every one of Spencer’s thrusts.

“Feels– Feels so good, Spence, love you,” you cry.

“I love you too,” Spencer groans, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “You’re so perfect, my love.”

You sob as your orgasm hits you, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You shake as you come, feeling so positively overwhelmed with the way Spencer fucks you, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. You can’t feel your legs as you come down from your high, head spinning with all the pleasure. “Spence…”

“I’m– Fuck–” Spencer’s tripping over his own words as he comes right alongside you, your clenched pussy sending him over the edge too. He blows his load deep inside you, sticky and hot and so satisfying. You can feel how hard he’s breathing as your mind clears, his arms trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t end up collapsing onto you.

“You’re perfect,” you hum in Spencer’s ear, soft and gentle as you kiss the side of his head. You pull him in close, letting him rest his weight onto you, and your hand goes to stroke his hair softly. “So good. I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you more,” Spencer groans, his voice a little raspy already. “I’m sorry if I was too possessive over you in front of my friends tonight."

“All is forgiven, especially since you were sexy as fuck,” you grin up at him. “You’re always sexy.”

“Says the girl in a miniskirt and black lace panties.” Spencer smiles.

“All the more I know what I’m talking about, then,” you giggle, before kissing him slow.

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[luveline]

Have you done a drabble on Reid and bombshell r wedding day?? I just read the proposal one and :(( it warms my heart

Ty for requesting!!! fem

The morning of your wedding day isn’t the chaos you’d both pictured. Spencer wears the finest suit he’s ever had. You wear a white silk dress with drops of diamonds hanging in your hair like the rain. There are no morning drinks, no catastrophes to correct. 

You sit on a chaise lounge. He sits in a wooden chair, dragged to you, his hands on your knees careful not to wrinkle the skirt of your dress. 

“It's so quiet,” he whispers. 

“I know.” 

Somewhere in the venue, Penelope and Luke are waging war on the florists —you did not order yellow geraniums. Hotch is explaining to Jack that you and Spencer met years ago, and have been smitten with one another pretty much every moment since. Derek’s cradling his toddler before he takes stage as the best man. JJ, Emily, and Tara are debating the kiss; will you make a show of things, pulling him in by the tie for a smacker, or will Spencer tame the excitement?

There’s a whole team of people making sure today goes smoothly. And still, Spencer‘s worried about some thing. 

“You know how beautiful you look?” 

“I should say that to you.” You reach for his tie, rolling it gently between your fingers. “My beautiful husband.” 

“This is… I don’t really know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything, Spence.” Anything he has to say about you, you know it all. The same way you’ve told him every thought you’ve had about him for years. He’s part of your psyche. 

“I’m so nervous about my vows,” he confesses then. 

“Don’t be.” 

“What if yours are better than mine?” 

“They will be.” You raise your hand tentatively to his face, fingertips drawing in the hollow of his cheek. “But you’re the academic, baby…” 

“I can write them again.”

You smile at him keenly. “If you don’t like them, you can try again on our anniversary. Or in a few years when we renew them, yeah? It doesn’t have to be perfect. You’ve promised me all this stuff for years.” 

“My speech isn’t good enough, either.” 

“Your speech will be perfect. It’s Morgan’s you should worry about, he’s gonna rehash all the embarrassing things… Savannah said he’s been practicing when Hank’s sleeping. That he,” —you laugh, in love with not just Spencer but the world— “keeps waking him up laughing at his own jokes.” 

Spencer dips toward you at the sound of your laughing, he can’t help himself. “If it didn’t wrinkle your dress, I’d really try to have you in my lap,” he admits in a whisper, nothing salacious, just the honest truth. “We could sit on the floor, like we did that time in New York.”

“Where would we get dessert now?” 

“That’s what we’ll do tonight, right?” He looks for your thigh in the dress, squeezing nicely. 

“Yeah, Spence. Yeah, I’ll even put the dress back on.” You tilt your chin up and follow your nose down, meeting his gaze with an unnamed emotion. Total devotion, perhaps. Something too soft to describe accurately. “We’ll share the spoon, just like New York.” 

Three kisses and a careful hug, his hair tickling your forehead as he curls over you. “This is the best day of my life.”

“It’s the best day of mine!” You let your hands climb his back, aiming for the mop of his hair to play with. “You’re everything, sweetheart. You’re just perfect. I can’t believe you’re seeing me in my dress though, everybody says that’s bad luck.” 

But you and Spencer don’t worry about what everybody says anymore. Not for a long time. 

“It’s good to see it now. I… I know I’ll cry, but this is taking the edge off.” 

“Don’t cry, honey. You’ll make me cry, and if I cry up there I’m gonna feel so silly all day.” 

“Silly,” he says, beginning to rub your back in swoops. “If you don’t cry, I might feel jilted.”

“So I have to choose between mortal embarrassment or hurting my husband?” 

He hugs you tighter. You aren’t married yet, but by the end of the night you will be. You’ll order desserts to the hotel room and sit in his lap on the floor by the heater, your white dress surely wrinkled, his tie either side of his neck, undone, neck exposed to be caressed with the tip of your nose. 

“I can’t not cry,” he says now. “Don’t expect me not to.”

“I don’t really expect you not to.” And no one will expect it of you when you cry like a child as he slips on your ring, but it makes sense to him. You and Spencer always make sense to each other. 

[amorre1989]

metal box

word count: 3,6k

about?: your sweet boyfriend forgot his lunch, and you're a sweetheart so you bring it to him.

who?: Spencer Reid; reader; Penelope Garcia; Derek Morgan; David Rossi; Aaron Hotchner; Jennifer Jareau.

maybe next time I'll write about dinner night with the team ;)

The bed felt empty. The space that was some hours ago filled with your boyfriend's warmth was now filled with wrinkled sheets. You sighted, you missed him, even after sharing the night together. The clock hit 9 am and you got up, you went directly to the kitchen just to see: the little box that holds Spence's usual snacks and a little sandwich accompanied with a note from you, resting on the counter of the kitchen, Spence would never forget something like that...is it a trick? an excuse for you to bring it? for him to go back home and to see you? (still sleeping, as usual).

"I think you might have forgotten something, baby" you texted, then deleted it. What if I surprise him? would it be wrong? out of place? maybe would it make him feel embarrassed to have his little girlfriend bringing him his lunch? as if he's a dumb lost kid. No...he wouldn't... right?

There you were, all dressed up (just in case) in front of the door of a big building unknown to you. You asked a secretary where you have to go, then followed by a little chat and her indicating the elevator where you had to get in, you got in. There you are...in an elevator... of your boyfriend's work, serious work, a work only men do, men with big brains and... beautiful eyes...and, next thing you know you're smiling like a goof remembering his face, so cute.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked good, the sunshine from the morning made an effect on you. Spence told you, once he saw you enjoying the sun on a warm day, that vitamin D helps the body to absorb calcium, which helps the bones, so now, it feels like your bones tickle every time you're under it.

A sound, a movement, the elevator doors opened, why are you nervous? this is dumb.

You walked, a little lost, looking for something to indicate your boyfriend's location.

"hello!" you turned around. A blonde, with bangs and a very colorful outfit was saying hello to you.

"hi!" you smiled "I'm looking for Dr Reid, do you know him?".

"I do! why are you looking for him?" she looked down at your hands, holding that metal box she seemed familiar with. "oh.my.god. that's Spencer's lunch box!"

You giggled, "yeah, he forgot it at home, I wanted to give it to him"

"you're- you're his girlfriend!?" you felt like she was about to throw herself at you, you smiled and nodded. "oh my god! this is so exciting!" she tooked your arm and made you walk towards a door, people were watching you, people tipping on a keyboard and answering calls.

She knocked on the door, is Spence there?

"I'm Penelope by the way" she said while waiting for someone to shout her to come in.

It clicked, of course she was.

"oh I'm sorry!, I'm Y/N, Spence has told me a lot about you, about everyone actually he tells me you're a genius with technology and-" you got interrupted by the door opening, she did.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but I have a little present for Reid right behind me..." she said, you could hear her smiling. She took your hand and exposed you to what felt like the world. Then you saw him, confused, all dressed up (so cute!) a tie and a shirt, and...pants and stuff. With his hair styled as you told him he looked good!.

He smiled, blushing "hey!" he got up and stand in front of you.

"hi" you smiled "you forgot...your lunch, I'm sorry, is this wrong?" you asked. His face, so close, but perfectly positioned to allow you to notice Garcia whispering "she's his girlfriend!" expecting not to be heard.

"no! it's perfect, thank you! thank you..." he kissed your cheek. Maybe that was what was necessary to make the theories be confirmed, he kissed your cheek! you saw some eyes about to leave their respective faces, and smiles and open mouths, and a little gasp and jumps coming from, who else? Garcia.

"uhm...this is the team, guys, this is my girlfriend y/n" he introduced you, you waved along with a smiling hi, followed by a ton of hello's from the team.

"anyway" you said to Spence "that was it baby, I don't wanna bother you"

"you don't bother me..." he said, face like he was hurt by you thinking you'd EVER bother him.

"you're good! come here, sit!" you heard from who you assume is Derek. "let's have a little chat" he said taping the desk.

"oh no, please, you're working, I didn't mean to bother" you said smiling, interrupting wasn't your intention.

"oh please! when will we have the chance to meet you anyway!?" said Garcia.

"it would be more appropriate to do it over dinner" said probably Hotch, damn what a deep voice.

Spence looked at you, those eyes, god, you could eat them.

"we could...have dinner at my house if you'd like someday" you smiled "thank you though, please, I don't mean to bother" again, bother, what an ugly word.

"that'd be lovely, do you cook?" said an old man, Rossi.

"I try..." you answered. He smiled, Spence rushed to say "she does! she cooks very well, she's the one that took care of me when I had the chicken pox and only drank soup for two weeks"

"I love soup, maybe you can share your recipe for my kids" you heard from a pretty blonde woman.

"of course" you smiled. "anyway...I'll let you guys work, I'll be waiting for our dinner, nice to meet you all".

A ton of hands waved in your direction next to " "bye's" and some "nice to meet you". Spence walked you to the elevator, holding hands walking playfully.

"thank you for bringing me my lunch, babe" he said, holding the low of your back.

"it's nothing...did you actually forget it though?" you asked.

He smiled, you laughed and hit him with your elbow.

"I'm not the only profiler in the house I see" he said leaning his face close to yours, you smiled and kissed him. Again, that sound from the elevator.

"I'll see you at night" it almost felt like your body didn't want to leave his, you felt his fingers gripping the back of your sweater, you kissed him again and tried to walk to the elevator but you felt his grip on your arm, he kissed you again, then a little kiss, then you gave him another.

"I love you, thank you" he said. You waved while pressing the elevator button.

"I love you more" you said

"I love you more" he said and leaned again to kiss you one last time, you giggled and the elevator doors closed after he got his head out of them both. Your last view was him waving and smiling, that dumb smile that made you melt and feel safe the first day you saw him, so sweet, so him. As you.

[reidmarieprentiss]

First Time For Everything

Summary: Spencer is worried he isn't experienced enough for you; you're glad he hasn't made a move yet.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst, suggestive content (16+)

Warnings/Includes: virgin Spencer, talks of virginity, past of being used for sex, everyone is insecure, Derek being the best wingman

Word count: 3.8k

a/n: oh to not be used for sex ... i wish baby

main masterlist

"Hey, Morgan, can I talk to you about something?" Spencer asks as he slides into the seat across from Derek on the jet.

Derek puts his phone down, glancing up at him. They're the first and only ones on board so far. "Yeah, kid, what's up?"

Spencer hesitates for a second before shrugging. "Well… I started seeing someone."

"Aye, Reid, good for you!" Derek grins, leaning over the table to give Spencer a light punch on the shoulder.

"Ha, thanks…" Spencer chuckles, rubbing at the spot where Derek hit. His amusement fades as he shifts in his seat.

Derek immediately notices the change in his demeanor and furrows his brows. "Is there something wrong with her… or him?"

"No… it's just that—" Spencer exhales, hesitating before shaking his head. "No, it's fine. Never mind. Pretend I didn't mention it."

"Pretty boy, don't be like that," Derek presses, leaning in slightly. "Come on, talk to me."

Spencer takes a deep breath before starting again. "It's just… I think she's more… sexually advanced than me," he mumbles, his face flushing as he drops his gaze down the aisle.

Derek raises an eyebrow, barely holding back a smirk. "Ohhh," he drags out the sound, sitting back in his seat and folding his arms. "So, what, she got you out here feeling like a rookie, huh?"

Spencer groans and rubs his face with both hands. "I don't know, I just— I feel like she knows so much more than I do in that… department, and I don't want to disappoint her." His voice drops to a whisper, his fingers still covering his face.

Derek chuckles, shaking his head. "Reid, man, first off, if she's with you, she's obviously into you for more than just that. You think she's keeping score or something?"

Spencer peeks at him through his fingers before lowering his hands and sending Derek an unamused look. "Thanks."

"Come on, kid, you know what I mean," Derek says, rolling his eyes.

Spencer sighs, still looking incredibly uncomfortable. "I mean… maybe not exactly keeping score, but she just—she's confident. She's comfortable in her own skin, and I feel like… I don't know. I might not meet her expectations."

"Do you think she has expectations? Have you talked to her about it?" Derek asks, his tone calm but probing.

Spencer shrugs. "She knows she wasn't my first kiss."

"Alright, Reid." Derek leans forward, resting his elbows on the table between them. "You don't have to answer, but just know—I'm not judging."

Spencer shifts uncomfortably. "Okay…"

Derek tilts his head slightly, watching him. "Are you a virgin?"

Spencer's entire face ignites in a deep, burning flush. He feels the heat creep down his neck, his ears practically throbbing. He lets out a humorless laugh, looking away toward the jet window. "Yeah," he admits, his voice quieter than before.

Derek lets out a low whistle, nodding thoughtfully. "Okay, I hear you. You're worried you ain't got enough experience to keep up with her."

Spencer exhales, relieved that Derek actually understands. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Does she know that? Did you tell her you're a virgin?" Derek asks, his voice still even, not pushing too hard.

"No," Spencer mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Derek questions again, still using that gentle tone, not teasing, just curious.

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's embarrassing, man," he grumbles. "I'm 27 years old."

Derek watches him with an understanding expression. "Reid, come on. Nothing is embarrassing about that. It's not a race."

Spencer waves him off, ready to drop the whole conversation, when Derek leans in slightly, his smirk softening into something more reassuring. "Listen, man, confidence doesn't come from experience alone. It comes from knowing what your partner likes and caring enough to make sure she's good. And trust me, if she likes you enough to be with you, she ain't thinking, 'Oh, I wish he had a little more experience under his belt.'" He pauses, then grins. "Pun intended."

Spencer groans again, looking like he wants to sink into the floor. "I walked right into that."

"You sure did, kid," Derek laughs. "But real talk, just talk to her. You're the communication expert, right? Women appreciate a guy who listens and actually cares about what they want. And besides, half of this stuff is about chemistry, not a résumé. You can't fake that."

Spencer nods slowly, considering his words. "Yeah… that makes sense."

Derek claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good. And hey, if you ever need some pointers, I'm happy to—"

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Spencer interrupts quickly, shaking his head.

Derek throws his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright! Just know I got you, kid."

Spencer huffs a small laugh, finally looking a little less mortified. "Thanks, Morgan. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Pretty Boy. I'm always game to talk about your sex life." Derek smirks, grabbing his phone again.

Spencer groans, covering his face once more. "I never should have said anything."

"Said anything about what?" Emily asks as she and Hotch step onto the jet, both of them pausing near the entrance as they take in the scene before them.

Spencer immediately stiffens, his face still burning from the conversation. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to be deeply interested in the clouds outside the window.

On the other hand, Derek just smirks, leaning back in his seat. "Nothing, Prentiss. Just giving the kid some sage advice."

Emily raises a skeptical brow, exchanging a glance with Hotch, who looks equally unimpressed but chooses not to engage. "Uh-huh," she says slowly, clearly not buying it.

Spencer clears his throat, desperate to change the subject. "How was the debrief?"

Emily lets it slide for now, but the amused suspicion in her eyes lingers. "Long," she says, dropping into a seat across from them. "And now I'm even more curious about whatever it is you're talking about."

—

When the team returned from the case, the first thing Spencer did—before even stepping inside his apartment—was call you. He didn't care that he was exhausted, that the case had drained him in ways he didn't want to think about right now. He just wanted to hear your voice, to know you were there.

He barely let the door shut behind him before pulling out his phone and dialing your number without hesitation. The call barely rang twice before you picked up.

"Hey," you greeted softly, the warmth in your voice immediately settling something restless inside him.

Spencer let out a breath he was holding, his body sagging against the doorframe. "Hey," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. "I just— I just wanted to hear your voice."

You were quiet for a second, and then he heard the familiar sound of rustling sheets. "Are you okay?"

He huffed a small, tired laugh. "Yeah, just… long case."

"You want to come over?" you asked, and God, did he ever.

"Yeah," he admitted, already toeing off his shoes, his body running on nothing but muscle memory and the need to be near you. "Yeah, I do."

"Aww, Spence, you sound exhausted. Do you want to come over tomorrow instead?"

He knows you're probably just being considerate, that you're thinking about how drained he must be after the case. But he can't help how his stomach twists, quiet insecurity creeping in before he can push it away.

Maybe you don't want to see him. Maybe you're not as eager for him as he is for you.

His fingers tighten around the phone, and he swallows hard, forcing himself to keep his voice even. "Oh—uh, yeah. Yeah, if that's better for you," he says, trying to sound casual, but he knows he's not fooling anyone.

"Spencer," you say gently, and he hates that you can probably hear everything he's trying not to say. "I just don't want you running on fumes. You need to rest."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I just—I wanted to see you."

There's a pause, and then your voice softens even more. "Do you want me to come to you?"

His lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the offer. "You don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to," you cut in before he can finish. "But do you want me to?"

Spencer exhales, tension slipping from his shoulders. "Yeah," he admits, quieter this time. "I do."

"Then I'm on my way."

When you arrived at Spencer's apartment, it was as if the entire atmosphere shifted the moment you stepped through the door. The weight of the case, the exhaustion pressing down on him, the restless energy that had been buzzing under his skin—it all faded, dissolving in the quiet comfort of your presence.

Everything felt calmer with you around.

Especially when you were in his arms.

The second he pulled you close, it was like his body finally understood it could relax. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he let out a slow, tired breath. The tension in his muscles melted away, his heartbeat slowing to match the steady rhythm of yours.

"You okay?" you murmured, your hands running gently along his back, grounding him even further.

"Yeah," he whispered against your skin. "Now I am."

You held him a little tighter like you understood exactly what he needed without him having to say a word. And for the first time in what felt like days, Spencer felt like he could breathe again.

"How do you do that?" Spencer murmured into your shoulder, his voice soft, laced with something vulnerable.

"Do what?" you asked, fingers threading through his hair, gently combing through the strands. You felt him sigh against you, his body sinking further into yours like he was trying to memorize the feeling. He loved when you did that.

"Make the world seem less scary," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands stilled for just a moment before resuming their soothing motions. His words settled deep in your chest, wrapping around your heart, filling you with warmth and something almost indescribable.

You kissed the side of his head, letting your lips linger there for a second longer than necessary. "Because I'm big, bad and scary," you murmured.

Spencer couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before he could stop it. He pulled back just enough to look at you, still grinning, and was met with your own wide, goofy smile. The kind of smile that made his chest feel too tight, his heart pounding just a little harder than it should.

And then he realized—this was it.

This was the moment.

With your hips pressed together, your gorgeous smile beaming up at him, and your dreamy eyes shining with amusement and something softer beneath them, Spencer suddenly remembered the second piece of advice Derek had given him.

"You just gotta be confident, walk in there, and lay it on her."

For all his intelligence and ability to recall and analyze even the most minute details, Spencer had never quite mastered confidence when it came to things like this. But as he stood there, looking at you, feeling the warmth of your body against his, he thought—maybe he could try.

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against your waist before he finally spoke, voice just a little unsteady but full of intent.

"Then I guess I should just... lay it on you, huh?"

Your smile faltered for half a second, your eyes widening slightly, and that reaction alone made his breath catch in his throat. Because for the first time, he saw something shift in your expression—something knowing, something new, something that made him want to follow through.

He didn't overthink it this time.

The moment Spencer leaned in, the rest of the world faded away. The second his lips met yours, it was like a spark ignited between you, something electric and all-consuming.

The kiss started slow and hesitant as if Spencer were still testing the waters. But something inside him shifted, and his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you impossibly closer. 

Time became irrelevant.

The kiss deepened, turning from something careful into something desperate, something that felt like it had been waiting to happen for far too long. His hands moved up your back, fingertips pressing into you like he was afraid you'd slip away if he let go. 

Spencer was about to try something new—maybe slip his tongue past your lips, bite your lip, or something else entirely. The possibilities felt endless, thrilling, completely uncharted territory. But you pulled back just as he was about to take that step.

He blinked at you, still slightly dazed, lips parted as if he hadn't expected the moment to end so suddenly.

You sucked on your own lip shyly, your eyes darting up to his before dropping away again. Then you laughed—soft, a little awkward, a little hesitant. "Is that why you invited me over?"

Spencer furrowed his brows, still caught in the haze of what had just happened. "What?"

"Just horny, big guy?" you teased, but there was something off in your voice, something uncertain beneath the humor, something that made Spencer's stomach twist.

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. "What? No, no, Y/N, no. I missed you. Really." His voice was rushed, desperate to make you believe him. "I'm sorry—I don't know what got into me."

You nodded, lips pressing together as if trying to push down whatever you felt. "It's okay," you said lightly, though the weight in your eyes told him it wasn't just okay.

So much for trying new things.

Spencer let out a quiet breath, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling frustration—not at you, but at himself, at his own inability to navigate this without stumbling. "I didn't invite you over for that," he said again, softer this time like he was trying to erase any doubt you might have. "I just… I just wanted to be with you."

Your expression softened just a little, but the moment had already shifted, and the atmosphere no longer crackled with the same intensity as before. Spencer swallowed hard, unsure how to fix it or even if he could.

So instead, he did what he always did—he overthought, panicked internally, and, worst of all, let the silence stretch between you.

"You can go home if you want," Spencer sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn't meet your eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere near the floor instead.

It felt like a knife twisting in your stomach. Your breath hitched as you stared at him, disbelief and hurt tightening your chest. "Wh-what? You want me to leave now? Because I wouldn't have sex with you?"

Your voice wavered despite the edge of anger creeping into it, but underneath it all was something much more painful—betrayal.

Spencer's heart dropped the second he heard the hurt in your voice.

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with panic. "What? No! No, Y/N, that's not what I meant," he rushed out, his words tripping over themselves in his desperation to fix what had just gone wrong. Y/N, I swear that is not it," he said, shaking his head frantically. That's not what I was saying."

"Then what were you saying, Spencer?" You searched his face, your voice steadier now but no less wounded.

Spencer inhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the words. He felt like everything was spiraling, like no matter what he said now, he had already made you feel like you weren't wanted here.

And that was the last thing he wanted.

"I—I just thought maybe you felt uncomfortable," he admitted his voice quieter now, tinged with frustration at himself. "I didn't want you to feel pressured or—trapped here with me."

You stared at him, and for a second, neither of you spoke. The weight of the moment hung heavy between you.

"Spencer," you finally said, your voice softer than before, "if I felt uncomfortable, I would leave. You don't have to tell me I can go."

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest.

"I want to be here," you continued, stepping a little closer, searching his face for any sign that you weren't completely misreading everything. "I just… I don't want that to be the only reason you want me here."

Spencer's head snapped up, his eyes wide, filled with something close to panic. "It's not," he said quickly, shaking his head, his hands twitching like he wanted to reach for you but wasn't sure if he should. "God, Y/N, it's not. I swear."

"Okay," you murmured, offering him a small, hesitant smile.

Spencer let out a breath, his hands still fidgeting at his sides. "So… you're staying?"

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head but smiling wider now. "Yes, Spencer. I'm staying."

And just like that, the tension in the room began to dissolve.

"But we need to talk about this again later," you said, your voice gentle but firm. This wasn't something that could just be brushed aside, and you needed him to understand that.

Spencer nodded quickly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly like he feared you'd change your mind and leave anyway. "Yeah," he agreed, swallowing hard. "We will. I promise."

You studied him for a second longer before sighing softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Okay," you murmured, letting the tension ease just enough to move forward, at least for tonight.

With that, the two of you headed to bed. Spencer climbed in beside you, hesitant at first, unsure if he should keep his distance after everything. But as soon as you nestled against him, your warmth pressing into his side, he exhaled deeply, finally letting himself relax.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just lying there in the quiet, feeling the rise and fall of each other's breaths.

And even though there was still a conversation to be had—still things to work through—at least for now, in this moment, you were here. And for Spencer, that was enough.

—

The next evening, after dinner, you curled up on Spencer's couch, your legs tucked beneath you as you turned to face him. He was clearly tense, hands clasped between his knees, and his eyes flickered toward you and away again.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself before you spoke. "I just want to start by saying I do believe you," you said, watching the way his shoulders relaxed slightly. "I know you didn't invite me over just for sex. And I'm really grateful for you, Spencer. You have no idea."

His brows knitted together, his head tilting slightly. "Grateful?"

You nodded, your fingers twisting together in your lap. "I've been in relationships before where… that's all I was. Where the second I wasn't giving them what they wanted, I wasn't worth their time anymore." You swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting his gaze again. "So, to finally be with someone who isn't just using me for sex? It means a lot to me."

Spencer's face softened, something aching in his expression as he shifted slightly closer. "Y/N… I would never do that to you," he said earnestly, his voice thick with emotion. "I—I don't even know how to be that kind of person. I just…" He let out a breath, shaking his head. "I messed up. I moved too fast and made you feel like that's all I wanted, even when it wasn't true. And I hate that I made you feel that way."

You exhaled slowly, nodding. "I know you didn't mean to," you admitted. "But Spencer, sex is… complicated for me. I can't separate it from how I've been treated in the past. So when things escalated like that, I panicked."

His jaw clenched, guilt flashing across his face. "I should have been paying more attention to your feelings instead of just going with the moment."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the tension in his fingers before he relaxed against you. "I just need you to understand that it's not that I don't want you," you said softly, squeezing his hand. "I do. But I need to go at a pace that doesn't make me feel like I'm just… filling a role, you know?"

Spencer nodded, his grip tightening slightly. "I understand. And I—I want to do this right with you." He swallowed hard, his voice quieter now. "You're not just anyone to me, Y/N. I don't want to do anything that makes you doubt that."

You felt your heart swell at his words, at the sincerity in his voice, and at the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Spencer smiled softly, his fingers lacing through yours. "I just want to be with you."

Your chest warmed, and you felt completely, undeniably safe.

"I want to be with you too," you said softly, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you cuddled closer, letting your body melt into his.

Spencer exhaled, his arm tightening around you instinctively like he never wanted to let you go. He rested his head on top of yours, his breath tickling your hair. For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the steady rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

Then, after a brief pause, he spoke. "I need to tell you one more thing."

You tilted your head slightly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against his chest. "What's up, Spence?"

He hesitated, his grip on you flexing ever so slightly before he finally said it. "I'm a virgin."

You froze momentarily, processing his words, before you pulled back slightly to look at him. His face was already tinged pink, his gaze flickering away like he expected you to react a certain way—like he wasn't sure if you'd be surprised or disappointed.

But you weren't either of those things.

Instead, you smiled, gently kissing his cheek and guiding his eyes back to yours. "Spencer," you murmured, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, "that doesn't change anything for me."

His brows furrowed slightly. "It doesn't?"

You shook your head, your smile softening. "Not even a little. It just makes me feel even luckier to be the person you want to experience that with whenever you're ready."

Spencer swallowed, his throat bobbing as he took in your words, letting them settle into the quiet, insecure part of him that had been holding onto that secret for so long. Finally, he exhaled, a small, relieved smile ghosting over his lips.

"You really mean that?" he asked, almost shyly.

You nodded, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his lips. "Of course I do."

And when you pulled back, Spencer was still blushing—but now, it wasn't out of embarrassment. 

It was love. And maybe a bit of lust.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[pasukiyo]

EXTRA MOTIVATION

college baseball player!leon kennedy x f!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: smut!, fingering, sex in a public setting synopsis: when teaching her how to swing, leon has to come up with a more effective plan to get her motivated...

 “How am I supposed to learn how to swing when you’re kissing my neck?”

 Leon’s lips shape into a grin against the crook of her neck and she shudders when he pulls away, his breath warm against the saliva cooling on her skin. 

 “It’s for encouragement,” he says with a shrug, so casual for someone who’s driving her absolutely insane. A baseball whisks by and she flinches, nearly jumping straight out of her back into him. His hands find her hips to steady her and she can feel his laugh as it buzzes through his chest against her back. 

 “Jesus, can you turn the speed down, please?” She glares over her shoulder as Leon touches his lips against her shoulder. “Not everybody’s a goddamn Derek Jeter like you.”

 With a roll of the eyes and a featherlight kiss to the peak of her shoulder, Leon pulls away, tossing the net of the cage over his head. “Can’t believe you’d compare me to Jeter,” he clicks his tongue as he presses his thumb against the down button on the pitching machine’s control panel. “I easily hit circles around him.”

 She rolls her eyes as she leans on the bat. Cocky bastard. 

 “He’s the only player I know, because of you, mind you,” she remarks as he enters the cage again, a corner of his mouth tugged in a half-grin. “Anyways, fine. Not everyone can ‘hit circles around Jeter’ like you can.”

 Leon titters and touches his lips to her temple, sliding behind her once again. “That’s more like it,” he whispers beside her ear, slapping his palm against the right side of her ass. Her entire body jolts and she hisses, narrowing her eyes at him from over her shoulder as another ball passes by, at a slower, more manageable pace this time. “Is that better?” He asks, gesturing with his head towards the plate where the ball had passed over just moments ago. 

 She turns and pauses, waiting for the next pitch to fly. She watches it as it passes, a small arch to it as it goes by, smacking the rubber backstop. She deeply inhales, feeling every single drop of air that gathers in her lungs before she releases it. 

 Why did she agree to this again?

 “I guess,” she finally replies, picking the bat up off the ground, trying to figure out where to grip the handle. “Now, how do I hold this thing?”

 She’s sure a dirty joke can be written there, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Leon was itching to tell one. If he was, he doesn’t act on the urge— fortunately— and he instead pulls away, muttering an “almost forgot.” 

 She watches as he steps out of the cage again, rifling through his ball bag until he holds up his helmet. Her face falls as he steps under the net again, grinning. “Gotta protect that pretty head of yours,” he says, kissing the crown of her head before sliding the helmet on. It feels heavy and a little awkward because it fits a little big, so she has to tilt her head up to even see him. 

 “This thing smells like shit,” she complains. 

 Leon wrinkles his nose, “are you saying I smell like shit?”

 “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she deadpans. “I’d also like to add that your head is enormous.”

 His lips fall in a scowl and he spins her around by her shoulders, wrapping his hands around hers on the handle of the bat. “Careful, or that mouth of yours is gonna get you into trouble,” he says, adjusting her grip on the bat. “Dominant hand over the other. Leave a little room between your bottom hand and the knob.”

 She watches as his hands guide hers to where they need to be, another ball whisking by. “Maybe you should’ve turned the machine on after you taught me how to stand,” she says, feeling him shrug behind her. 

 “Too late. Now,” he begins, torquing her hips with his palms. “The key is to use your hips as your guide. The power’s all in the hips, baby.”

 She rolls her eyes and lolls her head back, gently knocking the top of the helmet against his chin. He snickers, bringing one of his hands to wrap around either of hers again. “When you see the ball release, take a step with your front foot. It’s your windup.”

 She goes through the motion as another ball passes. She waits in her position for his next instruction, his hands still on hers and holding her arms back. Her back begins to ache and she shifts uncomfortably as he pats her back thigh. 

 “You’ll twist this leg before your arms go into motion, using your hips just like I showed you,” he instructs, placing his hand back on her hip to guide her. “Your hips will guide you through your swing,” he says, finally grabbing a hold of her hands, slowly going through the swinging motion. “Like this.”

 They go through the motion a couple more times until she thinks she’s ready for the real thing. Leon walks her to the plate and gets her into position, pressing a kiss to one of her shoulder blades. “My little baby’s first hitting lesson,” he murmurs against the fabric of her t-shirt. “Time moves too fast.”

 Her eyes roll and she nudges him out of the way with her butt. “You’re insufferable.”

 She can only envision Leon’s grin behind her. “You love it.”

 With a pat to her ass, he backs away and she gets into the stance Leon showed her, willing herself to breathe as she watches a baseball roll down to the machine. It ejects— and she blinks. She swings the bat just like he’s taught her— and misses. 

 The ball hits the rubber mat serving as the backstop with a loud thud and she deflates, arms falling to her sides, leaning against the bat. 

 “I missed,” she says, a little dejectedly and Leon chuckles behind her, his hands rubbing either of her shoulders, his lips touching the side of her neck. 

 “Can’t all be naturals like me,” he jokes, nipping her skin. Her eyes roll, her elbow jabbing into his stomach. “Kidding,” he saves himself. “It just takes practice.”

 His palms soothe up and down from her hips to her waist, his breath hot as it looms over her neck. Her breath catches in her throat as another ball goes by and she blinks when it hits the backstop, Leon’s hands snaking around her waist to the line of her shorts. 

 “And maybe some extra motivation?” He murmurs against her shoulder, pressing kisses into her skin all the way up until he reaches the edge of the helmet. Gooseflesh erects on her arms and quivers trail down her spine while his fingers toy with the hem of her shorts, his forefinger slipping beneath to draw a line above her pantyline. 

 “Leon,” she near-whimpers, feeling that familiar ache blossom between her legs as his fingers sink beneath her underwear. He hums against her neck, the pad of his middle finger finding her clit, his touch like the jolt of lightning that brings her to life, electricity flowing through her veins. 

 “Every time you hit the ball, I’ll make you feel good,” he whispers, breath curling around her neck, twisting all the way up to her ears in a warm embrace. It makes her shudder as Leon’s finger brushes against her clit, back and forth. “Easy enough, yeah?”

 She thinks she’ll hit him with her bat. 

 “You drive me crazy, Leon Kennedy,” she mutters through gritted teeth as his middle finger flicks her clit, trailing down to her entrance, gathering the slick there. Her breath hitches as another ball passes, Leon’s lips curving into a grin between her collar and jaw. 

 “I’m counting on it, pretty girl,” he whispers, sliding his hand away from her shorts, pulling away from her altogether. She peers over her shoulder at him as he backs away, lips wrapped around his middle finger, a smirk on his face. 

 Her brow dips— one of these days, she’ll get him back. 

 She turns back to face the machine, getting back into position. She waits with bated breath as the next ball rolls through the machine, soaring through the air towards her. She swings with full confidence that she’ll make contact this time but that hope dies almost as soon as it comes once her bat swipes through the air above the ball, hitting air. 

 Blood bites her cheeks as she glances back towards Leon who simply stands with his arms crossed over his chest, the dark ocean in his eyes rippling with a playful luster she’s seen far too many times to count. She huffs and turns back to the plate, readying herself into position. 

 She misses again. 

 And she misses the next. 

 But the time after that, she gathers a lungful of air into her chest, heart pounding and core aching with determination. She’d have to hand it to Leon— he strikes a good bargain. Her pussy surely thinks so too. 

 Her vision zeroes in on the ball as it rolls through the machine, ejecting from the emitter and soaring towards her. She thinks back to the motions she and Leon went through, piecing them all together in her mind like it’s one giant puzzle. She holds her breath in her throat as she puts all the steps together— and finally makes contact. 

 It’s not a Division 1, college scholarship worthy hit by any means. In fact, it practically hits the ground as soon as the barrel of the bat makes contact— a daddy hack, she’s heard Leon refer to it as— but it’s contact nonetheless. Elation surges through her veins and she pumps her fist in the air, face splitting in a smile as she hops, turning to face Leon. 

 “Who’s Derek Jeter now?” She exclaims as his lips crack to reveal the pearly whites behind them, his chest stuttering with his laughs. “Deal’s a deal, Kennedy. Now get your ass over here and touch me.”

 Leon’s chest rumbles with his laughter as he throws his hands up in admittance, sauntering his way towards her. “Deal’s a deal, can’t argue with that,” he says as she drops the bat, peeling off the helmet and sending it pummeling towards the ground. Leon’s arm snakes around her waist to pull her closer, his other sliding between their bodies, cupping her mound from over her shorts. Her lips fall agape in utter shock as he nears, their noses just barely touching when he whispers, “you’re lucky I’m a man of my word.”

 His fingers are like shots of ecstasy injecting straight through to her veins as he slides them back down her shorts, finding the aching bud at her center. She tosses her head back but he cups it with his palm, bringing her back in to press his lips against hers. Their tongues tumble around each other in a sloppy, languid kiss, humming into one another’s mouths as his middle and pointer fingers sink their way through her entrance, rubbing against her warm, velvety walls. 

 Her lips part around his and he takes it as his opportunity to gain control over their kiss, teeth clashing against hers with a fervor only Leon can match. 

 “Shit, you always get so wet for me,” he practically groans into her mouth, sliding his fingers in all the way until they’re knuckles deep. It’s already enough to liquify her insides and jellify her knees. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

 The endearment has more of an effect on her than she expected. She mewls against his mouth, clutching his bicep and sinking her nails into his flesh. She cants her hips into his hand, the heel of his palm rubbing friction against her clit when she does. It has her mind reeling, her head spinning. 

 Leon snickers at her reaction, pulling away from her mouth just to stare into her eyes, to watch as she falls further into submission in the palms of his hands. It makes his chest swell with pride, makes his cock twitch and strain against his boxers more than he’s willing to admit. 

 “You like that, huh?” He chuckles, moving the heel of his palm side to side against her clit, just to fuck with her. “Being called a good girl, hm? Being called my good girl.”

 It’s unfair how a voice can have so much of an effect on her. It’s embarrassing even, but she leaves no room to protest, for he’s adding a third finger and all she can think to do is moan, “Leon!”

 He brings their lips together again, grabbing a fistful of hair from the back of her head to keep her in place. She feels like she’s in a trance, her hazy mind turned to dark, murky slime with each pump of his fingers. 

 “You do like it,” he titters when he pulls away from their kiss for breath, shaking his head. She pinches her lip between her teeth as he digs her closer to her end, one of her arms locking around his neck to brace for impact, her opposite hand clinging tighter to his bicep. “Don’t think coming was a part of the deal, but I’ll make an exception, just for my good, good gi—“

 The sound of the entrance to the cages permeates the building and it snaps either of them out of their lust-drunken hazes. With some reluctance, they push away from each other and she works to straighten out her shorts as Leon licks his fingers clean, turning just as two of his teammates make their way towards their cage. 

 “Carlos, Luis,” Leon says in greeting, a hint of an annoyed edge to his voice. She turns, scrambling to gather Leon’s bat and helmet she dropped to the ground, core throbbing, begging for attention. 

 “Kennedy,” Luis greets, dipping his chin as he says her name in acknowledgement too. She simply dips her chin as she turns, pressing Leon’s equipment into his chest. He turns to face her, a line between his brow. She huffs— perhaps sex in the batting cage just wasn’t in the cards for them. 

 She’s about to push past him when Carlos says her name, lifting a small, gray object in the air.

 “This camera yours?” He asks and she freezes where she stands, nodding. “It’s still on, in case you didn’t know.”

 Her molars sink into the flesh of the inside of her cheek as she pivots slowly around on her heel towards Leon who only lifts his lips in a tight, impish grin. 

 Crazy, she mouths. You drive me crazy. 

a/n; i wrote this like 4 months ago and only just now got around to posting it i’m so sorry 😭 i hope it isn’t too late to reheat my college baseball player leon nachos 🤞

⚾️ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply! your feedback is always appreciated 🫶

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[misctf]

I just love your twink stories so much, just overall cockshrink stories of yours are immaculate. Thank you so much!

Of course! I hope you enjoy this one too!

New Year New Me

Derek grinned as his boyfriend kissed his cheek and rubbed his hand against his chest. Despite dating for two years, the passion was still there. And Derek couldn’t think of a better way to spend the New Year than with his boyfriend at a couple’s resort nestled away in the woods.

“I love you babe.” Derek kissed his boyfriend, his hands caressing his lover’s cheek.

Paul was perfect. Besides being one of the nicest and funniest guys he’d ever dated, the physical attraction was certainly there. Not to mention they were totally compatible. Derek being a total top, while Paul was a strict bottom. He loved how desperate Paul could be too- always the more submissive of the two. And as they got into bed, Derek instinctively goes to be the big spoon.

“Hey babe,” Paul says, “Would you mind if I try being the big spoon tonight?”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “You want to be big spoon tonight?” He smirks, “What’s gotten into you?” He jokes and Paul smiles deviously.

“You’re always the big spoon, I kinda wanna try it out.” He chuckles, “New Year, new me?” Derek looked at Paul with amusement, but also a hint of curiosity. 

“Alright babe, we can give it a shot.” 

He said with a grin, scooting over to let Paul take position behind him. As soon as their bodies made contact, Derek felt a strange tingling sensation wash over him. His skin prickled and he shivered slightly.

“What's up?” 

Paul asked, noticing the change in his boyfriend's demeanor. Derek tried to shake off the feeling, attributing it to the unusual positioning. But the sensations intensified. He tried his best to ignore them.

“Nothing, I’m good.” Derek mumbled, blinking his eyes a few times.

Derek's mind began to fog slightly as the tingling spread through his body. His thoughts grew hazy and his vision blurred at the edges. Paul's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Derek felt himself melting into his boyfriend's embrace.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Paul whispered in his ear, his breath hot against Derek's skin.

The words sent a thrill through Derek, but it wasn't just arousal. Something deeper, more primal, was stirring within him. Derek nodded, thinking it odd how Paul's voice took on a somewhat lower tenure. Not to mention the confidence. Usually he liked more submissive guys. But Paul's sudden confidence made his dick stir.

“So good.” He replied, nestling closer to his boyfriend. Derek's cock hardened fully, straining against his boxers as a new kind of desperation seized him. He wanted to be held, worshipped, fucked...hard, “Mmm, I love you so much, Paul.” Derek slurred, his voice taking on a higher, more nasally tone, “You're the best thing that ever happened to me.” He pressed back against his boyfriend, grinding his ass against Paul's crotch.

“Fuck babe...” Paul grunted.

Derek moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he felt Paul's hardening bulge press insistently against his ass.

“Oh god, Paul, please...” Derek whimpered, his hips bucking back against his boyfriend's hips in a needy rhythm.

His once strong, toned body started to soften. The light dusting of chest hairs beginning to fall away, leaving him smooth. Meanwhile, Derek couldn't help but notice that Paul's arms seemed bigger somehow. The mountainous biceps that bulged as Paul held him closer seemed... wrong. But as he felt Paul's ever more prominent bulge against his ass, he simply moaned. Paul's grip tightened around Derek's waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground his throbbing erection against his boyfriend's pliant ass. Derek gasped, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

“I'm going to make you mine, baby.” Paul growled, his voice low and rough with desire, “Every inch of you belongs to me now.”

As if in response, Derek's body began to shift further. His broad shoulders narrowed, his powerful muscles atrophying to reveal a leaner, more delicate frame. His hair, once dark and neatly styled, turned a bright platinum blonde and fell in messy waves across his forehead. A sweet, innocent face emerged, dominated by large, expressive blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

With each passing moment, Derek felt himself becoming less like his former self and more like a naive, dim-witted pretty boy. His once sharp intellect dulled, replaced by a vacuous, lustful haze. And yet, emotions like fear, despair, and anger dulled. He gazed up at Paul with wide, trusting eyes, his mouth slack and drooling slightly. 

“Y-you're so big and strong, Paul.” he cooed, reaching back to fondle the massive bulge tenting his boyfriend's pants, “Can you please fuck me? I need it so bad...”

“Not with an ass like that.” Paul grunted, scratching at the hairs that sprouted from his increasingly larger pecs, “And what kinda fuckin' twink has a package like that? Paul groped Derek's proud bulge.

“But babe... please...” Derek pouted, “I.... oh gawd!”

As Paul's touch lingered on Derek's groin, the young man's erection began to shrink, growing smaller and softer until it dwindled to a mere nub between his thighs. At the same time, his once muscular ass flared outward, ballooning into an obscenely large, juicy bubble butt. Paul chuckled cruelly, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend's pathetic, diminished manhood. He reached down and gave Derek's swollen rump a harsh slap, watching with satisfaction as the tender flesh jiggled and quivered.

“You're such a fucking cumslut now, aren't you, babe?” Paul sneered, rubbing his thumb over the red imprint left on Derek's cheek. “Just begging to get your tight little hole filled with my cock.”

Derek whined pitifully, squirming under Paul's scornful gaze. 

“P-please, Paul... I'll do anything... just use me...” He reached back to part his cheeks.

That was all Paul needed. Paul set a relentless pace, pounding into Derek's ass with savage abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through the young man's core, making him clench and unclench around his boyfriend's invading length. Derek's cries degenerated into incoherent moans and whimpers, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations. Any thought of being anything other than a sex toy for his bigger, stronger, boyfriend evaporating from his increasingly duller mind.

“Harder, Paul! Fuck me harder!” Derek begged shamelessly, his voice high and breathy. “Make me your slutty little cumdump!”

As the night wore on, Paul continued to use Derek's willing body for his pleasure, fucking him relentlessly until both men collapsed in exhaustion. Now, as morning dawned outside, Derek lay curled up on Paul's chest, his small frame barely filling the expanse of his boyfriend's broad shoulders.

Despite the lingering soreness between his legs, Derek felt a deep sense of contentment and belonging. In this moment, he knew without a doubt that he was meant to serve and submit to Paul's dominance. Groggily, Derek opened his eyes to find Paul staring down at him with a mix of affection and superiority. Paul gently stroked Derek's hair, his fingertips grazing the delicate features of his boyfriend's face. 

“You did so well last night, baby.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “Such a good little slut for me.” Derek blushed at the praise, his heart swelling with pride and devotion. 

“Thank you, Paul.” he whispered, nuzzling into his boyfriend's warm embrace, “I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Paul chuckled, leaning down to capture Derek's lips in a dominating kiss. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a golden glow over the room, both Derek and Paul knew something had changed. But neither would be complaining all too much.

[miley1442111]

motherly instincts- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron's mother can only be helpful to you postpartum, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, body shaming, feeling of discomfort, postpartum, reader is postpartum and aaron's wife.

You were pregnant. It wasn’t exactly planned, but Aaron and you were ecstatic all the same. Jack was excited to have a new sibling and he was totally ok with it. At your wedding, you had adopted Jack, meaning you were already one of his legal guardians. The only problem was telling everyone. The team were ecstatic for you, Jj giving you tips, Spencer sending various articles on pregnancy and childbirth, Derek promising his babysitting service, Emily promising to come and help out in anyway, and Penelope sending you cute baby clothes ideas (and buying them for you).

But telling Aaron’s mother. 

That was a shit show. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re pregnant?” she repeated. The lack of emotion in her face and voice made you feel practically sick. “Why?”

“Mother-” 

“Is Jack not enough for her?” She asked like you weren't even there.

 You took a deep breath. “I adore Jack, you know I do. We weren’t exactly planning this-” Wrong thing to say.

“So you don't want the child?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his. 

“Of course we want our child!” You exclaimed and she looked taken aback. 

“Aaron, she’s shouting at me!”

“I will be too if you don’t stop this mother.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had since reached out and apologised, so you felt that it was ok to let her come and stay for the week, they were her grandchildren too.

You had given birth to twins, two girls. You named them Elizabeth (Beth for short) and Natalie (Nat for short). You both loved both of them so much. They had taken Aaron’s dark hair, and your eyes. They were beautiful. You adored them. Aaron adored them. Jack adored them. 

Aaron’s mother… not so much.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 1

She had already bulldozed through your regular routine. You were exhausted from literally growing two children and then pushing them out and into the world. Aaron understood that. Jack understood that. Aaron’s mother did not. She expected you to just be fine. She expected you to do all the cooking and cleaning while she took care of your newborn babies. Aaron basically had to put her in a time out and lock the door to the nursery to let you just be with your children for more than a few minutes. Jack loved coming in to see his sisters whenever he could, which meant Ms. Hotchner also had to be allowed in. So, you were basically banished unless you wanted to argue, and trust me, you didn’t want to argue with that woman. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aaron?” You mumbled as you climbed into bed beside him, both the twins and Jack down for the night. 

“Yes honey?” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Do you think you could talk to your mother? Just about letting me have some down time with the twins?”

“Of course darling, I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he looked down at you. Even through the darkness of the room, you could see the guilt on his face. 

“It’s not!” You lied. “Just… I don’t know,” You sighed. “It doesn't matter, sorry for worrying you. You shouldn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, scepticism clear in his voice. “I’m happy to talk to her. She’s only supposed to be here if she’s helping. If she’s not helping we can ask her to go home.”

“Aaron, it’s alright, I promise.” 

“Well, tell me if it gets bad, alright?  I know she can be overbearing sometimes,” The amount of care and love present in his voice and words almost brought you to tears, so you just nodded and pressed your head into his chest. You felt him chuckle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

After a few minutes of his comforting voice and soft hands lulling you into drowsiness, you were asleep. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the baby monitor went off and you slept through the cries of your children, Aaron smiled. He was happy you were getting sleep. Insomnia had been the prevailing issue of your pregnancy, and it drove you crazy. He got up, swaddled and fed his babies, checked in on Jack and got himself a glass of water. He lay down beside you again and cupped your cheek. You were sound-asleep as he looked at you with all the love in the world. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 2

“Did you sleep?” You asked your husband. “I’m so sorry I slept through it, I just… next time you should wake me up, ok? I’m so sorry-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “I was fine, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re finally getting some sleep,” he smiled playfully at your glare. 

“I can take Jack to school if you want to lounge around for a bit?” You offered, hopeful that he would let you. He shook his head and dipped down, kissing you again. 

“I’m fine. I’ll walk him there, then go for a run.” 

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Hotch’s mother exclaimed. “She’ll go for a run and drop Jack off. She needs to start getting rid of the baby fat.”

Your jaw genuinely dropped. There was no way anyone would have the nerve to say that to you. Not when you were literal weeks postpartum. You knew you didn’t look the same as before, you hadn’t expected to. But to be confronted with it so blatantly was a stab into your confidence. 

Aaron’s face hardened and solidified into one of irritation and annoyance. “What did you just say to my wife?” 

“Aaron. We can’t lie to her! It would just be a disservice,” your mother-in-law said as she stood by the coffee machine, a frown on her lips. “It’s only a few miles-”

“If you ever think about talking about my wife in that way I will not hesitate to block your number. You can pack your bags Mother. I’ll call you a taxi,” Aaron got his phone out, a comforting hand on your waist. 

“Aaron, that’s a bit drastic-” You tried but his voice cut yours off, ordering a taxi to your house. He thanked the person on the line and smiled at you as he hung up, his mother’s temper tantrum beginning. 

“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that. No one does.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no day 3. She left your house, essentially cursing you, but you didn’t care. It was finally the way it was meant to be. Just Aaron, Jack, the girls, and you. 

Your perfect family. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[veryintricaterituals]

Can we talk about the parallel between Guillermo's turning and un-turning.

His turning went so wrong, it wasn't what he wanted at all. We know our crazy, dramatic baby. He wanted a ceremony, he wanted it to be romantic and soft, he wanted vows and sacred words. He wanted to slowly expose his neck, he wanted whispered words, he wanted to feel safe and cherished. He wanted to be asked and be held and be seen and be accepted.

What he got instead was a badly lit horrifying ordeal. He had to take charge. Derek had no idea what he was doing. It happened in a backroom of a store, they kept getting interrupted by Derek's boss asking him to clean out toilets. Derek fucked up his bite. He almost died. "Have you done this before". Derek fainting. Blood everywhere. Anticlimactic, disappointing, not at all the culmination of his life long dream, of decades of service and love.

His un-turning on the other hand.

Oh Nandor knows him. He made up a ritual for him with a suitably dramatic name: "The Ceremony of Vampiric Transmogrification". He dressed him in robes which he put on him so softly and spoke to him so kindly beforehand. He got all the other vampires ready for him. He hung banners and lit candles. He wrote and spoke vows and sacred words to him. He gave him a choice and asked him a question. And when he got his answer he took charge and made sure everything went exactly as it should. He made Guillermo feel seen and loved and accepted, even if it broke his heart.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Post!prision!Reid seeing his daughter for the first time after he gets out 🥹 he gets so emotional because he can finally hold his baby again!

OMG OMG OMG!!!! can you imagine how teary he'd be!! post!prison dad!spencer x mom!reader, I hope you enjoy <3

You wish you could’ve been with the team at the prison, see him come out there in person, but you’re still on bedrest with your baby girl. Georgia is only a couple weeks old, but she’s so much Spencer’s twin- the same unruly curls, the same nose and the same want of you. 

You’d written all about her in your letters to Spencer, describing every feature he’s going to see today in so much detail you were sure he would see her clearly in his mind. 

“Honey?” He doesn’t shout lest he wake his daughter as he walks in, his fingers twitching with the need to see both of you. 

“I’m on the sofa baby,” it’s almost as if he was never gone. You lean over the sofa to see him pass through the kitchen, his hands holding a small bag. “I’m sorry I can’t stand to kiss you, Spence.” 

He tuts, leaning down over you, “Nonsense, how’re you feeling?” His eyes flit over to the cot beside you, roving over your daughter before settling back on you. 

“Like I missed you longer than you’ve been gone.” You’re waterlogged immediately and Spencer rounds the sofa to pull you into him. 

“I missed you too,” his lips press into your temple, “God I missed you both so much.” Tears wet your hairline but you can’t seem to care, Spencer’s home and he’s able to see your baby girl together. What more could you want?

“I brought you some snacks, I figured you hadn’t been able to get any of your cravings.” He says gently, opening a bag to show you all the chocolate malt balls, the yoghurt raisins and the nuts you’d just run out of. “I got something for Georgia too.” 

“Spence,” you gasp when you see the orange stuffed octopus that he pulls out, it’s just as big as Georgia is now. He wipes the tears that fall on your cheeks, kissing your nose before opening the tub of nuts for you. “Seventh smartest animal in the world.” you recall softly. 

“Can I hold her?” He asks finally and you nod, watching him stand and hover over the bassinet. 

“Just scoop her up Spence, she’s going to be so happy you’re home.” 

Spencer doesn’t say a word, practically holding his breath as he does as you say- scooping Georgia up in record time and holding her close to his chest. There’s a moment right after she wriggles a bit when she settles and Spencer feels an ungodly wave of emotion crash into him.

Of course, he’d read that men only feel like fathers the moment they hold their babies, and everyone had told him (everyone being Derek and JJ) that you can’t control the way your heart kind of cracks open to make room for this new love, but he still hadn’t expected it to be so immediate and visceral. 

“Hi Georgia,” he whispers, his tears rolling down the bridge of his nose as he strokes her cheek. “Hi sweet girl.” You’re enamoured already, looking at Spencer holding your daughter like she’s made of fine China. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were born, baby. But I promise I’m not missing anything else where you’re concerned.” 

Tears pool in your eyes as your daughter wakes up, no crying or wailing, just small coos and gurgles as she looks at Spencer. 

“It’s your daddy, Georgia.” You murmur, sniffling and wiping your eyes as Spencer hiccups as she reaches for his face, her little fist bumping into his jaw.

Her almond eyes stare up at him, blinking all slow as she takes him in. Then she smiles, as if she's put a face to the man who spoke to her every night, telling her all the facts he'd read and learnt about babies, animals and whatever soothing topic he could find to tell her while she lived in your belly.

“Your mom lied to me, you look just like her.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as Spencer gives you a little glare. “Those eyes are all her, Peach. Maybe you won’t get your daddy’s brain either- it’s no fun being smart and getting beat up.” You throw a cashew at Spencer then, making him chuckle and come sit beside you. 

“I’m so happy you’re home.” You whisper, stroking Georgia’s cheek as you press yours into Spencer’s bicep. 

“I’m happy to be back, angel.” his eyes remain transfixed to Georgia all day, holding her and touching her foot when he can’t because you have to feed her. Spencer thinks to himself that he’d live through prison a thousand times over if every time he gets out, he can come back to this moment, to the peace and serenity in your home with you and your little girl and the life you’d made together colouring every wall of the house.

[alwaysmoncheri]

can I request something for spencer?? I know you haven’t written for him in a while but I love him sm🥺

I literally forgot decaf coffee existed when writing this. thank you for requesting, muah! <3

cw: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, slight lack of self-care, fluff, 1k

<3

Derek watches you walk through the office doors—if you could even call it that—you shuffle through the doors, hand resting on the bump of your growing stomach. The other clutches a stack of files to your chest. There’s a frown upon your lips, you look exhausted. Hair slightly disheveled, and blouse partially untucked, you’re clearly in need of some time off, but you’re trying your best. 

On a normal day, Spencer would be right by your side. Brushing the hair from your face, leaving a lingering kiss to your temple. He would take the files and gently guide you to your desk. You’d beg for a small coffee, and he’d remind you that, “Drinking more than 200 mg of caffeine per day during pregnancy has been linked to an increased risk of pregnancy complications, such as low birth weight and miscarriage.” You’d shut up after that. Not that Spencer meant to scare you—but you always are. 

You’re scared about those things, the what-ifs. At the beginning people are happy for you, always wishing you congrats and sending smiles your way. It’s supposed to be that way, it’s exciting, you’re carrying the result of yours and Spencer’s love—another life. But the whispers always find their way to you. You’ve heard the talk about the chances of miscarriages—that no pain could ever compare to carrying a baby for months only to lose it during childbirth. 

On a normal day, Spencer would be there to silence your worries. But, today he’s in a meeting. A stupid meeting. It makes you want to cry. 

Derek notices your eyes tearing up and stands from his desk. Blocking the path to yours. He grimaces when you almost collide into his chest. You blink a couple of times, like you hadn’t even known he stood up. Now, you’re exhausted, sad and embarrassed—not a good combo. 

 “How’s our girl doing?” Derek hums with a careful smile, offering a hand to guide you to your desk. You grumble something incoherent, shooting him a quick look. A second later he’s out of your path, allowing you a straight shot to the coffee machine.

You clutch a mug, the heat against your hands comforting. A sigh leaves your body, and your shoulders relax. You’re about to take a sip of your coffee before it’s snatched away from you. You pratically moan at it’s absense, before narrowing your eyes at the traitor in front of you. 

“You can’t be having this,” Emily says simply before taking a sip of your coffee. Your blood boils. 

“Give it back,” you demand, placing your hands on your hips to look as threatening as possible. You can’t imagine how effective it is, though, given your current state—but you’re determined.

“Nuh, uh,” she tuts, pulling the mug away from you. You watch her step back and dump the hot liquid into the sink. God, you’re too tired for this. 

“I can just make another.” you shrug, reaching for the other mug resting on the counter. When Emily snatches that one from you too, your head lulls back, and you groan in annoyance. 

“Nope,” she shakes her head with an amused smile tugging at her lips. You swear, this has to be her deah wish, “Spencer will kill me if I let you do that.”

“He wouldn’t.” You argue, but it’s really a desperate plea. 

Emily raises her eyebrows at you, “Yes. He would.” she says, emphasizing each word. You roll your eyes but give in—you know she’s right. 

“Fine,” you mumble, throwing a final glare in her direction before turning to hobble over to your desk.

The rest of the day is long. Your co-workers watch the way you wince when Hotch calls someone into his office, voice booming across the room. They watch as you slump at your desk, your head propped up by your hand, trying—unsuccessfully—to keep your eyes open enough to focus on the documents in front of you. After a while, Penelope approaches, her smile wide, and a glass of water in hand. Her cheerfulness only makes your head throb harder. You gently brush her off, taking the water with a quiet sigh. You wish you didn’t feel this way—but your sour mood only worsens by the hour. 

Then, finally, your savior arrives. 

Almost the entire office visibly relaxes when Spencer emerges from the meeting room. He looks panicked, like he’s more worried about being without you than you without him—the truth is the latter. His eyes sift through the office before finding you at your desk, slumped and half asleep. His eyes soften and his shoulders drop. You’re still breathtaking—though when he tells you that, you only protest. Long strides bring him to you, and just like on a normal day, he’s by your side. 

A gentle hand in between your shoulder blades brings his presence to your attention. You tilt your head up while his other hand brushes your hair out of your face. Then, he presses his lips to your temple, like he always does—it makes you smile. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, and Spencer’s bent at an especially awkward angle, but it doesn’t bother him. 

“Spencer,” you sigh, the weight of every negative emotion from earlier lifting off your shoulders. Pressing your face into his chest, you breathe in the comfort of his warmth.

“Hi, honey.” he returns, rubbing small circles on the small of your back. You say something into his chest that doesn’t quite reach his ears. 

“Hm?” he hums, asking you to repeat yourself. Nearby, Derek’s mouth hangs agape when you do without protest. 

“I missed you.”

Spencer presses a kiss into your hair, “I missed you too.”

You’re both silent for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. But eventually, Spencer shifts, wincing as his back aches, and gently pulls away. In turn, he kneels in front of you, hands resting on your thighs. 

“Have you had anything to drink today?” He asks simply—out of habit. Your smile again, he’s always trying to take care of you. 

“A little.”

There’s no hesitation before he’s on his feet, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

“No, no, wait.” you protest, catching his hand, “Just stay for a minute.”

Spencer can’t bring himself to say no. 

So, he pulls up a chair, and the two of you settle in, working side by side at your desk until the end of the day. Hotch, watching from his office, would normally call out the inappropriate behavior—but today, he decides to let it slide. Just this once.

<3

masterlist . spencer reid masterlist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[ddejavvu]

Hiii! Could you write a Spencer Reid x fem reader who are dating & she’s super drunk, he needs to take care of her and she’s all “no I have a boyfriend who I love so much” and goes on a ramble about Spencer, not releasing she’s talking to him & he’s all heart eyes and giggly at her whilst trying to take care of her? Lots of fluff? Thank you!

The minute Spencer tries taking your hand to help you down from the booth you're squeezed into, you push his hand away, "No."

"No," You repeat, shaking your head with all the coordination of a baby deer, "Nooo sir. I am not going to be partaking in anything with you, because I have a boyfriend," You announce, your voice spanning over the entire table, even reaching Rossi who's at the head, "And I love him, and you're- just- fuck off."

Spencer's mouth falls open incredulously at your expletive, though a laugh escapes it rather than one of his own. "Oh, really? You've got a boyfriend?"

"Mhm." You nod proudly, settling back into your seat and burrowing away from his waiting hands into Emily's side, "He's tall, and he has a gun, so don't-" You choke on what Spencer presumes is a hiccup, but could very well be a belch, "Don't mess with me."

"You tell'im," Emily laughs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and rubbing the chilly skin beneath the cutoff of your sleeves, "Do you want me to call Spencer for you, sweetheart? Have him come pick you up?"

"Yeah," You nod easily, your eyes set greedily on your friend's drink now that yours have been downed, "Can you tell him to bring me a blanket, too? I'm cold."

Unbeknownst to you, Penelope herds Spencer away to the edge of the patio your team is seated on, and there's a lingering smile on his face as he listens to what she whispers in his ear.

"I have a blanket in my car," She tells him, "It might have some cat hair on it, but you can totally take it! Go get it, and you can come back like we called you."

"Okay," Spencer's eager to take Penelope's keys from her when she shoves them into Spencer's hands, "Thanks, Garcia. Just make sure she doesn't drink any more, okay?"

A quick glance back at your table reveals Emily holding her glass to your lips, helping you tilt it backwards to dump the concoction down your throat.

"Uh- any more than that." Spencer clarifies. Penelope nods, rushing off to make sure you don't find Rossi's scotch.

Spencer returns barely two minutes later, discreetly dumping Penelope's keys back into her purse. Hotch and Morgan share a knowing smirk when Spencer pats you on the shoulder, and JJ pinches your side from across Emily to get you to notice the man standing beside you.

"Hi angel," Spencer croons, and your face lights up, shining brighter than the fairy lights strung above you, "Emily called me, she said you wanted me to come get you?"

"Spencer!" You cheer, and Emily shares her strength with you to hoist you into his arms where you cling to him like a koala bear, "Spence, you're here! There was this guy, and he tried holding my hand, and-"

"Oh, no," Spencer scrunches his nose, unable to stop himself from laughing when you take it as an invitation to smear yours against his own, "Not a guy! Are you okay, angel?"

"Mhm," You hum, tucking your face into his shoulder, "You're here now, Spence. And you brought a blanket, just like I asked."

"Of course I did," He beams, wrapping his arm tightly around your back as you settle over him like dead weight, "Uh- guys, can we get a bill?"

"Just go," Rossi waves him off, patting his pocket where you all know his rather thick wallet lies, "Take her home now, so that she can't run up my card with any more drinks, and I'll pay for the ones she already had."

"Thanks Rossi," Spencer grins awkwardly at him, flashing the man a strained thumbs-up before he has to use that hand to support the backs of your thighs once more, "Okay, honey, ready to go?"

You don't answer, and Derek leans sideways to peek at you.

"She's out," He snickers, "Pretty boy, make sure she's still breathing when you get home, alright?"

"Got it," Spencer chuckles breathily, "Okay, uh- bye guys."

There's a chorus of send-offs, and Hotch tilts his glass at Reid with an amused twinkle in his dark eyes, "Make sure you're both on time Monday. Hangovers don't excuse you from duty."

[hotchner-edu]

Not Family | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You are the youngest agent on the team and you greatly admire Aaron. When you make a critical error on the field, you realize that maybe your bond was all in your head. — part 2 here

Pairing: Father-figure!Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader (Platonic)

Warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, fluff if you close your eyes, daddy issues

The prickling sensation running down your neck and spine made your fingers shake and your eyes sting. Humiliation and shame painting every fiber of your being, your head hanging low as your face burned.

“You could have cost us the entire case!” Hotch yelled, voice echoing around the entire police precinct as he chewed you out in front of the entire station.

You could feel the team staring at the exchange, giving you looks of pity behind your back. Hotch was notorious for being stern and no nonsense when it came to work, but he never yelled at you.

You were the youngest agent on the BAU team, Spencer’s junior by a year, but just as capable as your colleagues. Or at least that’s what you had worked yourself up to believe.

It felt like your entire self-confidence was being decimated by the man in front of you. The error you made had been quite serious, but you didn’t think it warranted this degree of fury from your boss.

You had naively and selfishly begun to look up to him as an almost father figure, having confided in him about your trauma regarding your birth father. It was something you both connected on early in your career on the team.

In a way, Hotch had always been a bit soft on you because of that. But by the way he was going red in the face and yelling down at you, it seemed maybe it was just all in your head.

Being the youngest, you were a bit babied. You had always been a bit sensitive when it came to the team, having let them into your heart a long time ago. Unfortunately, this meant you hadn’t prepared yourself adequately.

“I apologize, sir. It’s completely my fault. It won’t happen again.” You spoke meekly, feeling like your words and movements were being controlled by someone else.

You were certain you were tearing up a bit, feeling trapped by the verbal beating Hotch was giving you.

“What the hell were you thinking? How much longer do we all have to hold your hand for? We need to be able to trust that you’re capable enough to work out on the field.” He seethed, eyes glaring through you like you were just another incompetent subordinate.

“Hey, Hotch. Lay off, okay? She’s already apologized. We all make mistakes. We still have a shot at taking this guy down.” Derek swoops in, stepping forward to try and placate the man.

Hotch doesn’t even shift his gaze away from you. “We don’t work with inept agents on the field.”

If it were possible to crumble away into dust, you were certain you’d be a heap of it on the ground below you. His words felt like a knife through your chest, burning through your veins and leaving a chill on your body as you felt glued to the floor.

Why was he being like this?

That’s all you could think as Hotch finally decided he’s had enough of you for one day. You hear his footsteps growing more distant as he marches off further into the station.

You’re staring at the carpeted floor with an almost empty gaze, the pain you were feeling likely written all over your face as the tears start falling.

The feeling of Derek’s hand on your shoulder rouses you a bit from your wallowing as you glance up at him. Whatever he sees on your face has his expression softening further.

“Hey, Hotch was out of line speaking to you like that. We all make mistakes. Hell, we’ve all made similar calls in the past. No one expects you to be perfect.” He speaks softly. You brave a glance past his shoulder and see the rest of your team gazing at you with sympathy.

“Not perfect, just good enough.” You whisper back, trying to convey the tornado of emotions and insecurities being unleashed inside of you.

Derek seems a bit stumped by your words, clearly trying to think of a way to comfort you. The overbearing feeling of eyes on you has your nerve endings burning, and you need to flee before the team sees further proof of your weakness.

“Excuse me.” You whisper softly and hurry past everyone, stepping out of the suffocating environment and into the quiet bathroom.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom beat down on you as you sniffle and suppress a sob, fumbling with your phone as you call the first person you can think of. The person you’d run to for anything when Hotch wasn’t available.

“Hello, my sunshine darling! I thought you’d never call.” Penelope’s boisterous voice rings out.

“Penelope.” You say softly, sniffling and gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your face was red and your eyes were already swollen as tears continually stream down your cheeks.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Her voice immediately grows softer as she becomes the embodiment of concern.

You sob softly and your face scrunches up from the turmoil you were feeling. “I fucked up. Hotch yelled at me.”

Saying those words out loud made the situation sound extremely juvenile, and you can’t help the grimace that paints your face.

Despite having called Penelope to try and ease your pain, you were starting to feel even worse now. You couldn’t even handle being reprimanded by your boss, and now you were running for help. You felt like a complete idiot, blinded by the self-conjured notion that Hotch viewed you as anything but a naive agent.

It was a work team, not a family. How many times would you need to learn that lesson before you’d stop leaning so heavily on them?

“I’m sorry, honey. You know how he can get, especially now with everything going on with Haley. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it.” Penelope reassures you, reminding you of the man’s snappish demeanor since his divorce proceedings.

You keep staring at your reflection, not sure how to continue the conversation as you start feeling utterly alone. Penelope was a busy person, did she really have the time to listen to your woes and self-pitying?

“I’m sorry, Penelope. You’re right. I need to go.” You whisper and hang up before she can say anything else.

That night, you mutely continue working on the case before heading back to your hotel room, ignoring the concerned looks being passed between the team as you robotically work.

While laying in bed that night, you reassure yourself that you’d survive this long relying on yourself. It would be a burden for Hotch if you continued viewing him as a father figure. You could live without having one.

The next day, you all manage to locate the unsub again after your previous mistake that allowed him to flee the day prior. The team is rushing to the cars, bulletproof vests and ear comms on.

It seems that they all have an unspoken agreement to let you go ride with Hotch, silently pushing you both together so you could patch things up.

However, all it does is create an awkward tension in the car ride over as both you and Hotch remain quite stubborn.

You knew Hotch wanted to focus on the case before anything else, and you were too wounded to initiate conversation with him.

“Stay behind me.” Hotch commands softly when you both arrive at the location, a large factory that the unsub previously worked at.

Nodding a bit, you silently follow after him, gun out and safety off.

The entire warehouse is dimly lit and filled with winding hallways, putting you all at a disadvantage since the only person familiar with the layout of the building was the unsub.

It takes you both almost ten minutes before you finally stumble upon the man. Emily had managed to find him first and had her gun raised, trying to talk him down as he had his own gun pointed at her.

When you and Hotch slowly file into the room, guns pointed at him as well, he lets out a loud laugh.

He waves his gun between the three of you as Hotch begins to question him, telling him to not do anything he’ll regret.

You stay silent and glance at Hotch, his words reminding you of everything that occurred the day before.

The unsub sees you and seems to figure out rather quickly the dynamic between the three of you, singling you out as the weakest link.

“One more. I can have one more.” The unsub spits out with a crazed smile.

“Put the gun down.” Hotch commands, voice rising as his patience grows thinner.

The unsub smiles widely and shakes his head. “I’ll take one more. Then everyone will see… They’ll understand! So, let’s see how far loyalty goes.”

It’s almost as if time moves in slow motion from then. The confusion you feel from his words quickly melts away when you see his finger pull the trigger, his gun aimed at Hotch, but his gaze focused on you.

You understood it then, what his objective was. He was a man who felt scorned by the world after everyone he trusted abandoned him, from his friends and family to his supervisor. You all understood the profile, yet somehow no one anticipated that he’d try to test his motive again on the team. 

You drop your gun instinctively and immediately turn to push Hotch out of the way with all the strength you can muster.

You’re unaware of Emily’s gun going off, a bullet piercing through the unsub’s temple as one punctures through you right above the collar of the bulletproof vest and into the base of your neck.

Your eyes are closed before you even hit the floor.

Hotch’s eyes immediately fly toward your crumpled figure as he lifts himself off the floor with his arm. His heart stops, looking at the bullet wound gaping through you— mocking him.

He’s scrambling toward you as the wind is knocked from his lungs, his voice loud and panicked as he screams for Emily to call for medical assistance.

He hovers over you, frantically trying to feel for a pulse with one hand and using the other to put pressure on the bleeding wound.

“Come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes. Please, open your eyes.” He whispers, feeling like he was being doused in ice cold water over and over again. 

Yes, he was certain— it was because of his own drumming heartbeat that he couldn’t feel yours. His fingers are pressed into your pulse points, eyes flying wildly over your face as he wills you to open your eyes.

When he finally regains his bearings a bit and calms his racing heart, he feels his world completely stop when he can’t find a heartbeat.

part 2 here