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cuddleprofiler · 2 months ago

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FAINTING & FEVER - When you confess your deep buried feelings to your boss in your fever.

Summary: Hiding a fever? Check. Passing out? Check. Confessing your feelings to your boss? Wait woah?

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, BAU x platonic!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: fever, fainting, rest is good I guess.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This was supposed to be platonic but I didn't feel like it is romantic :) This is my first time writing any non-platonic work. All the pics I have inserted are more clear when clicked if you want to see (Tumblr did something). Positive Criticism is welcomed.

"So, what are you ladies up to tonight?" Morgan asked while driving, his focus on the road. You'd just finished a case, and as usual, Morgan was eager to make plans before another case thrust you back into the world's horrors.

"Well," JJ began with a sigh, eyebrows raised, "I'm going to spend the whole day resting with my boys." She finished with her radiant smile.

"What about you, Prentiss?" Morgan glanced at Emily in the passenger seat.

"No plans yet, but who knows? I might have something by the time we land."

"L/N?" Derek called out when he realized you hadn't answered, lost in your own world.

You sat beside Spencer, staring out the window, oblivious to your surroundings. The heat you felt was consuming every coherent thought.

"L/N?"

"Huh? What did you say?" you asked, turning your head so quickly that JJ and Spencer wondered how you didn't get whiplash. Your voice remained calm and soft.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

"Why wouldn't I be, Spencer?" you replied, mustering a small smile to maintain your façade.

"You just seem...down," he commented, studying you intently. You gave him another small smile, shook your head, and winced. Your head felt as if it had been struck by an invisible hammer. Spencer either didn't notice your wince or chose not to comment.

"You up for some fun tonight?" Morgan asked again, though you were barely aware.

"What fun?" you frowned. The way he said "fun" made you think it might not be the kind you'd enjoy.

"Seriously, sweet girl? You're spending way too much time with Reid. I'm talking about bars, drinks, and if you get lucky, then maybe—" Morgan started with a Cheshire grin, while your eyes widened.

"No," you said in a high-pitched tone, embarrassed at the thought of hooking up with a random guy when you already loved someone.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Come on. We don't get many days off, L/N. You should enjoy them when you can."

"Morgan, I can't," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And why is that, sweet girl?"

"Hey! Garcia will take offense if you call someone else 'sweet girl,'" you said with a smile, appreciating his use of a nickname for you.

"Nah. My baby girl will never be offended by this, and you're not just someone else," he replied confidently.

"But answer the question, sweet girl," he prompted, aware you were avoiding it. He assumed your hesitation was due to your reluctance to go out, knowing how you and Reid felt about drinking and socializing.

"I've got some work to do, Morgan. Also, I'm tired," you said, leaning your head back.

Morgan's expression changed instantly.

"Go straight home when we land, Y/N, not to Hotch's office. Whatever files you have to work on can wait. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he's making you do overtime."

"Exactly. Hotch will understand, and there's no need to tire yourself out," Spencer added softly.

Their concern warmed your heart. "Of course, gentlemen," you replied, amusing the others.

The conversation drifted back to their plans while you gazed out the window, watching amoeba-shaped clouds float slowly across the sky. The view was therapeutic, but you didn't tell them how awful you were feeling.

When you woke up that morning, it felt as if hell had descended upon Earth just for you. Your muscles ached, protesting and begging you to return to bed, but you couldn't. Lives were at stake, a case needed solving. Now, the muscle pain had given way to a headache and constant zoning out.

You longed to get home as soon as possible, yearning for your fluffy blankets to engulf you completely, save for your head. You hoped your phone might end up in a ditch for the day, allowing you to remain in your cozy cocoon until you felt well enough to face the world—and potential case calls—again.

Soon, you arrived at the airstrip, where Emily and JJ surrounded you.

"So, where's your mind wandering today?" Emily asked with a mischievous grin. Before you could answer, JJ chimed in.

"In dreams of Hotch, of course. Right, Y/N?" You quickly shushed her, glancing around to ensure no one had overheard.

"JJ, Emily, we're at the airstrip," you whispered urgently. "Someone might hear you. It's supposed to be a secret. Sometimes I think you and Garcia are determined to let Hotch find out." You began trudging toward the plane, feeling drained.

They both laughed and high-fived.

"We do want you two together," Emily said.

"You should tell him yourself," JJ added. "Besides, if he overhears by accident, it'll only speed up your love life."

"By the way, Y/N, will you only go out with us if Hotch is there too?" Emily teased.

"Guys!" you groaned as they laughed.

Your crush on Hotch had started early in your tenure, initially based on his looks. But it deepened into something more profound, to the point where his well-being affected you deeply. You felt terrified when he faced dangerous situations. That's when you knew you were in trouble.

There was no way he'd fall for someone who could barely speak to him. You had your reasons for avoiding him. The days leading up to this decision were hellish. Never had you stumbled over your words as much as you did then. And what did he do?

He always gave you a patient look and nodded softly, encouraging you to speak your mind. It was manageable until you started losing yourself in his eyes or staring at his face constantly. After that, you ensured you were never alone with him except when working on case files. You began doing this so he could go home early and rest, reasoning that a few extra files wouldn't impact your time.

You were startled from your reverie by the memory of Garcia suggesting that Hotch might like you too. You still don't believe her, but a girl could hope.

"If it gets too much, I want you to pull out."

"Sir?" you asked, confused, looking up from your gun at your boss, who was surveying the team preparing to ambush the unsub's house.

"Everyone has off cases, L/N, but with time, most of us have learned to deal with it. Still, we pull ourselves out when needed. You're still new. So, pull out if necessary. Do you understand me?" he said, now looking at you, his gaze sweeping over your shorter form. You looked up at him intently, lost in his eyes until he raised an eyebrow. You could have sworn you saw his eyes soften slightly.

"Yes, sir."

"Call me Hotch, Y/N." With that, he walked towards the rest of the team as you hurried to catch up.

Back at the FBI building, you dashed to Garcia's lair. She was your first friend, and you both had a tendency to ramble about various topics. Sometimes Reid joined in. As soon as you saw her, you hugged her. Hugging Garcia was like therapy—you could feel your worries, guilt, and other negative emotions leaving your body. You felt yourself relax, your body lighter. You called it "Garcia magic”! It was an added bonus that Garcia was fond of physical affection.

When you told her about Hotch's words and your feeling that he was worried and all other incidents where he acted the same—though you thought that was impossible—she flashed her beaming smile, all her white teeth showing. Her eyes, however, held the amusement of knowing something you didn't.

"I didn't know sweet cheeks, he cares for you this much." Garcia mused, clearly pleased by what you'd shared.

This much? And what do you mean?" you asked, your curiosity evident.

"Hmm hmm. He looks at you the same way Will looks at JJ. He's so soft with you and he isn't like this with anybody. Maybe except Jack of course."

“Garcia there’s no way in hell he likes me. Maybe he was trying to be sweet.” you asked her trying not to get your hopes up.

This is a paradox. You are sure. Damn sure! Garcia began laughing while you gave her an incredulous look. She didn’t stop until you threw a teddy at her. “My sweet sweet girl, Hotch is never sweet with anyone. Ask Emily about it if you are unsure but nope nada in my so many years of being at BAU, he’s never sweet with anyone.”

"Maybe you are overthinking this Garcia. Hotch and I don't even know each other.”, you mumbled looking at your hands in your lap.

“That is an argument I will have with you on another day but what I'm saying is that Hotch likes you.", she says with a small almost sad smile.

"If you want you can observe him. You're a profiler baby. Yow will know.", she added gleefully.

Henceforth, you observed Hotch as profiling team members was off-limit. He had a tendency to smile at you softly and he didn’t offer others the same amount of options that he did to you , but you attributed this to being new. You were certain he'd show his more authoritative side once you were no longer considered the newest member. Definitely!

Lost in these thoughts, you suddenly felt your vision blur and your surroundings distort.

"Whoa! You okay?" Emily asked as she grabbed your forearm, while JJ held the other. They exchanged concerned looks when you didn't answer immediately. You shook your head slightly and replied,

"Yeah, yeah. Just slipped."

They didn't seem convinced but didn't press further.

"Be careful," JJ said, patting your shoulder.

"Yeah, of course," you mumbled, trying to regain your composure.

Hotch and Rossi chatted as they walked, their conversation drifting from Jack's football to other topics. Before they knew it, they'd arrived at the airstrip. As Hotch boarded the plane, he froze in surprise. You were seated next to his usual spot—an unexpected sight, given your habit of avoiding him outside of group settings or work situations. Your presence there felt nothing short of miraculous.

Not wanting to give Rossi a chance to tease him, Hotch quickly sat beside you. He was certain you hadn't noticed his arrival, as you were deeply engrossed in the case report—something you rarely worked on during flights.

His attention shifted back to Rossi when the older agent began discussing plans for a pasta dinner. From the corner of his eye, Hotch caught you glancing up, offering both him and Rossi a small smile before burying yourself in the file again. It was odd, considering the report wasn't due for days.

He didn't want to finish it quickly, knowing an empty home awaited him. No one would be there to greet him—just silent walls. Jack was on vacation with Jessica's family for the next few days, leaving Hotch alone in the city. He stole another quick glance at you, resisting the urge to look more often.

Hotch was sure he would never fall in love again after Hayley. He loved her from such a young age and so much that loving someone else felt betraying the love he had bestowed upon Hayley all those years. Even after getting a divorce, he didn't stop loving her completely. Sometimes, he liked to believe they separated not because they fell out of love, but because their love was so intense that their arguments became too painful. However, he knew this wasn't the reality. He sighed and pulled out his file.

His thoughts soon drifted to you. Lately, contemplating love inevitably led him to think of you. Sometimes you don't know what hit you until it does. Falling in love with you was the same. He was falling in and never realised until the day he got a letter. From you.

Hotch had slowly fallen in love with you. That was the truth of his life, he stayed away from for a long time. How could he stay away when your every action seemed to win his heart anew? Each time he learned something new about you, he fell a little deeper.

You were a sweet addition to the team. It didn't mean you were all the time sunshine. Everyone learnt that the hard way. He mentally chuckled at the fight you and Morgan had over dark chocolate to the extent you were ready to beat him black and blue. However, your sweet gestures towards everyone on the team always warmed his heart.

He reminded himself to remain professional. After all, he was on a plane with a group of profilers who could decipher his feelings in minutes if given the chance.

"L/N, can you tell me about the—"

"L/N?" Hotch called out again, surprised you didn't hear him the first time. Still, you didn't reply. Rossi also looked up.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He said, touching your shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened?" You looked like a deer caught in headlights, making both Hotch and Rossi confused.

"Nothing happened. I was just asking you about the case," he replied, looking at you. You were looking...different. It was as if every laugh and joy had been drained from your life.

"I'll be right back," you said, standing up and moving before Hotch had a chance to stop you.

The moment you stood up, you knew you shouldn't have done that. You were far better sitting down. Now the pounding in your head intensified, along with the feeling of being shaken up to the point where you could see everything oscillating. You tried to keep yourself still, hoping your surroundings would become normal.

The next thing you knew, everything went black.

Hotch saw you swaying and moved instinctively. He caught you, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder, trying to keep you up while you were dead weight. However, it wasn't as easy as it seemed in the movies.

"Y/N? Y/N. Hey, wake up!"

"Y/N!" He squeezed your body against him.

However, his yelling got him nowhere. You didn't respond, lying still in his arms as if you were taking a nap. Hotch would have believed it if he hadn't seen you go down in front of his eyes.

"Y/N," he called out again, softly this time, yet the response was the same. He swept your hair back from your face.

Unable to keep you up, he gently lowered both of you onto the aisle. He moved his hands to your shoulders, gently shaking you, but you showed no sign of waking up.

He didn't notice anyone else until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Rossi sitting beside him, looking alarmed by the happenings. Morgan was above your head. The rest of the team was also hovering.

"What happened, man?" Morgan asked while taking the sweater Reid offered and putting it under your head.

Hotch didn't answer. He himself didn't know what was wrong with you. One minute, you were standing and the next plummeting down like the apple which led to the discovery of gravity. His hand went to your cheeks, where he felt the heat radiating. His frown appeared and deepened as he touched your forehead.

"She's burning up!" Hotch said worriedly, still keeping his tone full of calmness while his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. Having a fever is one thing but passing out from it is entirely another. He couldn't help but feel the small burning sensation in his chest at the thought of being ill, even if it was a fever.

You could hear people talking, but why would there be people at your home? You scrunched your face and blinked your eyes multiple times before fully opening them. Everything was blurry at first, but soon it became clear, along with the horrible pounding in your head. You tried to sit up, but a firm pair of arms pushed you back.

"Hey Bella, don't try to get up. Stay still."

"Wha-what happened?"

"You fainted," Hotch said. The rest of them had dispersed, knowing Hotch would take great care of you and that a crowd wouldn't help much.

"I don't feel good," you groaned, your hand massaging your head.

"Yeah, I gathered that much. Tell me what's exactly wrong, L/N?" Hotch had your hand in his, rubbing it softly to ease the pain in any way he could.

"I don't feel good," you mumbled again with half-closed eyes. You were mostly disoriented from what Hotch could figure out.

"You have a fever."

"I do?"

It was taking you time to gather what was happening. He blamed the fainting and fever. It took you time, but you slowly opened your eyes fully when you noticed Hotch still sitting at the edge of the sofa. He still held your hand, and your legs were on his lap. Being in touch with him felt like second nature; you didn't even notice until you opened your eyes. You quickly tried to pull back your legs and hand, but Hotch stopped you with his hold.

"Don't move so much, Y/N. Relax," his voice soft and calming, as always.

You sat in silence for the rest of the journey, which wasn't very long. You were clutching onto his forearm as he helped you sit up to go home. When you came outside the plane,

"Hotch, I can go home by myself," you began, your voice small, hoping to regain some of the dignity you lost after fainting in front of your entire team.

"Y/N, you can't stand straight, and you want to drive home by yourself?" Hotch asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There are other ways to be suicidal than this, sweet girl," Morgan quipped, walking beside you, not that you noticed. You looked up at him and then at Hotch, concern shining in both of their eyes.

"I'm not joking," you huffed.

"Neither are we," Morgan said.

"Y/N, it's final. I'm taking you home," Hotch ordered. That's what it felt like to you.

Hotch had an arm around your waist, supporting you as your body threatened to collapse. He hurried towards your apartment, aware of your rising fever. He couldn't give you medicine without food, but he was grateful for your unfiltered speech—it revealed the extent of your discomfort.

"You know, Hotch?" you began as he fumbled with the door. You leaned against the wall for support.

"Dahlias are my favourite flowers. They symbolize change, dignity, and elegance."

"They're native to Mexico, right?" he replied as you entered the apartment.

"Yeah! You know about them?" you asked, turning your face abruptly.

"Easy, honey. No sudden moves," he cautioned. "And yes, I've picked up a few facts over the years."

"I've always loved them. So colourful, bright, and beautiful," you laughed softly.

Hotch had never heard you speak so freely. He found himself enchanted by your voice, certain you could rival Reid in flower trivia.

After settling you on the sofa, Hotch fetched water, fruit, and medicine. You tossed your shoes aside and reluctantly took the pills, groaning as you slumped back.

"You should change into something more comfortable," Hotch suggested, removing his own shoes.

You looked at him, startled. Realizing his phrasing, he quickly clarified, "I mean, you should put on some comfy clothes."

At his insistence, you changed. When you returned, Hotch had shed his coat and tie, his shirt partially unbuttoned.

"Aren't you going home?" you asked, confused.

"I'll stay tonight, in case you need anything."

"There's no need, Hotch. You must be exhausted from the case. Go home and rest. I'll be fine."

"Y/N, it's better if someone's with you tonight. You fainted on the plane. I wouldn't be able to relax not knowing how you're doing," he admitted, his voice soft.

You smiled at his thoughtfulness and curled up on the sofa with a blanket and pillow. You both decided to watch Star Wars.

Partway through the movie, you turned to Hotch, staring intently.

"You know, Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. Like, really, really love you," you said with a lopsided smile.

Hotch froze, completely still. He hadn't been this motionless since he first held Jack, afraid of hurting his newborn son. He never imagined you reciprocated his feelings, but he knew if he didn't get the conversation going right now, he not going to know about your feelings when you are not loopy due to medicine.

“Yea?”

"Mm-hmm. You're so wonderful and adorable and just... so cute. Yeah, you're intimidating at work, but the rest of the time? Totally cute."

"Oh, am I?"

Though your tongue was loosened by the medicine, you were more lucid than you let on. Having suppressed these feelings for so long, you couldn't stop now that you'd started. You wanted to tell him everything—him about all those feelings that you shouldn't have about him but you do, how couldn't help but fall for him slowly and every day seeing him made your day.

He was so handsome! His pretty dark brown chocolate-coloured eyes are swoon-worthy. Whenever you look into them, you feel hypnotized, unable to look away from them but not being present in the time; you often find yourself lost in them, forgetting his words as you gaze at him. Right now, he was looking directly at you, and you were drowning in his gaze.

How does he not realize the effect he has when he looks at someone like this?

Hotch's smile grew with each word you spoke.

"You're so handsome, ridiculously handsome. Have you seen yourself under that table lamp? You look like some movie hero poring over case files."

He blushed and glanced away at your flood of compliments. You cupped his face, turning it back to you, your eyes wide and intent. His smile made your frown melt into the biggest grin he'd ever seen on you. You looked beautiful.

"I just really like you, but I know you don't like me," you said, your voice small.

He frowned at your words.

"I love you too, honey, but I'll give you the full answer when you're well enough to remember it. Word for word," he replied softly.

You squealed with delight.

"You aren't just saying this to spare my feelings, right?" you mumbled a few moments later.

He cradled your face in his hands. "I would never say such a thing just to spare someone's feelings, Y/N. I love you. More than you can imagine."

Your questioning continued throughout the movie, but you refused to turn it off.

"You must have had many admirers in college. How many girlfriends did you have?" you asked, your head resting on his shoulder while his hand on your waist pulled you closer. Both of you kept your eyes on the TV.

"I only had one."

"No, you're lying. You're far too handsome to have had only one girlfriend your entire life."

'You can become the second.'

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?"

"You're imagining things, L/N. It's a common symptom of high fever. Of course, I didn't call you sweetheart, honey."

"Oh, but I—you just called me—"

"What?"

"Never mind. I must be imagining it."

"Yes, you're definitely imagining things."

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benevolentbones · 5 months ago

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beach day | spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

warnings: swearing, massage? flustered spencer

word count: 1.2k

summary: you and penelope decide to take the team to the beach :)

a/n: thank you sm to everyone who follows me and supports my silly little fanfics!! getting to everyone’s requests soon!! comment if you’d like to be added to my taglist <3

“you want to what?” hotch asked, his dark brows furrowing.

“we should have a beach day! it would be so much fun- you can bring jack.” penelope mused excitedly, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both tried to get more people on board.

it was initially your idea, to invite a few members of the team to go to the beach as the summer heat was eating you alive, it was penelope’s idea to invite everyone. and y’know the more the merrier.

“so will you come?” you asked, a sparkle glinting in your eyes.

“i don’t swim, so i wouldn’t be able to mind jack in the water.” he mumbled, reshuffling the case files on his desk, thinking of his five year old son.

“that’s okay- y/n is a trained life guard, she can look after him in the water.” penelope seemed to have an answer for every one of hotch’s excuses.

he then realised that the two of you weren’t taking no for an answer. he let out a small sigh before meeting your eyes.

“you promise you’ll watch him?” he asked, like you haven’t been babysitting jack for two years at this stage.

“pinky.” you smiled, extending your pinky finger for hotch, who reluctantly locked his finger with yours. he knew how serious you took pinky promises.

“alright then.”

garcia let out an excited yelp, dragging you out of hotch’s office and on to convince the last few members of the team.

so far you had got jj, emily and hotch.

“three down two to go.” you grinned at penelope, her blonde hair bouncing as she dragged you towards spencer’s desk.

derek was standing against reid’s desk, his hands gripping the edge of the table as they were both deep in conversation.

you had thought to wait until they were finished talking before you interrupted them, but penelope had other ideas. she came to a halt, her arm locked with yours.

“how do you fellas say about a beach day this weekend?” she asked, a cheshire like grin on her maroon stained lips.

derek’s attention shifted from the younger male to the two women who stood before them.

“a beach day? a chance to see you ladies splashing about? count me in.” morgan grinned, before turning his attention back to spencer.

“what do you say, pretty boy?”

spencer’s face turned sour, it was needless to say he didn’t really enjoy the beach. he hated hot weather, the texture of suncream and then the dreaded sand.

“um…” he began “i think i’m okay, thank you for the invite though.”

“oh c’mon reid, everyone else is going!” penelope beamed, determined to have everyone go.

“i don’t know- i don’t really like the beach guys…” he trailed off.

“you get to see y/n in a swimsuit.” derek added.

you furrowed your brows slapping morgan’s arm in a playful manner.

“i mean you will!” he laughed, shielding himself from your attack with a case file.

“fine, i’ll go- but not for that reason.” a blush exploded onto spencer’s pale features.

“yes! i’m going to start planning!” penelope couldn’t contain her excitement as she whisked your flustered self away.

“oh it’s totally for that reason.” derek bumped his elbow into spencer’s ribs lightly.

“s-shut up man.”

saturday rolled around and the team were on their way to the beach, it was a bit of a road trip to the nearest beach but you weren’t complaining. the sun was out, the heat causing wisps of your hair to stick to your neck. you couldn’t wait to get into the water.

once everyone arrived, penelope scanned the beach for the perfect spot and then began ushering everyone over, making morgan and hotch carry the umbrellas and coolers from the van you took.

you followed in suit, holding onto jack’s small hand to guide him over while his dad did all the heavy lifting. once you had reached the perfect spot you began to lay your towel down as derek positioned the beach umbrella.

everyone began laying out their respective towels and beach chairs, spencer plopping his chair under the umbrella beside you. you gave him a sweet smile before you dug through your bag for the suncream.

“alright mister, suncream time and then uncle derek will make sandcastles with you okay?” you announced, getting jack to sit in front of you.

“hey i didn’t sign up for that-“ morgan began earning a glare from both you and hotch who was mounting a wind barrier to his left.

“-yeah i mean, yay sandcastles!”

once you applied the suncream to jack, he ran off to derek, dragging the man down the beach, bucket and shovel in his tiny grasp. you turned to spencer who was already halfway through a book he had brought for some ‘light reading.’

he was wearing a pair of dark purple board shorts, paired with a white short sleeve shirt that was loosely buttoned up, and damn did he look good.

“your turn spence.” you smiled, taking the book from his grasp.

“i- yeah i already put some on before hand.” he muttered, attempting to take the book back from you.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “well i’ll top you up later- would you do me?”

“do you?” spencer’s voice cracked slightly, a small blush beginning to spread to his cheeks. his mind threatening to wander.

“mhm would you put suncream on my back, i can’t reach.”

“oh right- yeah come here.” he adjusted his seated position.

you stood up, dusting any sand that clung to your skin. you quickly slipped off your white sundress that you used as your beach coverup, revealing a black two piece.

spencer gulped nervously, as you passed him the bottle of suncream. his eyes traced your form, the two piece accentuating your already, in his opinion, attractive figure.

he didn’t really comprehend why he was so nervous, he had seen peoples bodies before, other women at the beach and such. but he had never seen this much of you.

he began applying the lotion, ignoring the heat rising through his body. this felt like a fever dream to him.

honestly you could’ve asked one of the girls to help apply the suncream, as they were already helping out each other, but truthfully you craved spencer’s touch.

his lightly calloused hands massaged your form, trembling down to the small of your back which made your face heat up.

spencer’s hands brushed up your waist, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, his touch soft as he worked in the suncream.

you never wanted this to end, his hands moving up to your shoulders nearing the nape of your neck, and then..

“a- all done.” he stuttered out, handing you back the bottle. you took it back, your fingers brushing against his as you passed his book back to him.

“thanks spence.” you flushed, quickly putting it back in the beach bag to avoid his intense gaze.

“up for a swim garcia?” you turned to the woman to your left, her blonde hair in two braids and her body adorned with the cutest pink frilly two piece.

she shot you a grin before grabbing onto your arm and dragging you off to the water.

“yeah i bet you needed to cool off after all of that, damn girl.” she whispered causing you to become even more flustered.

“oh you’re down bad.” emily laughed at spencer as soon as you were out of earshot.

“as if i didn’t already know that.” spencer sighed, slumping back into his chair.

he was in for a long day…

taglist: @0108s22m

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #elle greenaway #jason gideon #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction

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sweatervest-obsessed · 3 months ago

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Y/n: see how Garcia brought the shots back to the table?

Prentiss: very thoughtful.

JJ: very demure.

Morgan: what the fuck—

*hotch arrives*

Garcia: see how Hotch was late?

Prentiss: not very mindful.

Reid: not demure.

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pathologicalreid · 1 year ago

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nicknames | S.R.

in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.

word count: 591

a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)

You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.

Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.

JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”

You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.

Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”

“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”

You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”

JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.

Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”

As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”

He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.

He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.

Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”

The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.

You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”

Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #david rossi #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #written by margot #spencer reid x fem!reader

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lillaberry · 19 days ago

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Tell me im not the only one who thought of dr spencer reid

#criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #dom spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one shot #penelope garcia

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reidsworld · 4 months ago

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Unveiled Secrets

Summary: The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Jack and Haley do not exist in this, kissing, cuddling, allusions to sex, light teasing, use of Y/N, pet names (my love, baby), that’s it I think, lmk if I missed any! Oh and pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k

Mars speaks… hi my loves, I was motivated to write so I am using this to figure out my writing style a bit and how I want to format my works! I’ve been going through a bit of a Hotch phase lately so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

The BAU office was slowly quieting down as the day turned to dusk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the desks. Aaron Hotchner, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, stood in his office, the soft light of his desk lamp highlighting the stress lines that had deepened over the years. He checked his watch—almost time to go home. A rare, soft smile touched his lips, a sight reserved for only one person.

He closed the case file on his desk, slipping it neatly into his briefcase before reaching for his jacket. His phone buzzed just as he picked it up, and he glanced at the screen to see a text from you, Can’t wait to see you. Should I pick up dinner?

That smile of his deepened as he quickly typed a reply, I’ll pick it up on my way home. See you soon, my love.

He hadn’t planned on keeping his relationship with you a secret, nor did he have any grand strategy for revealing it. He assumed that given time, his team would figure it out on their own. After all, they were profilers—eventually, they would notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the unexplained absences, the slightly more relaxed demeanour after particularly stressful cases. He hadn’t intended to hide it forever, just until they pieced it together.

As he opened the door to his office, however, he nearly collided with Spencer Reid, who was walking by, engrossed in a file. Reid looked up, startled, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sorry, Hotch! I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Reid," Hotch replied, a calmness in his voice that belied the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t often caught off-guard, especially not in the safety of his own office.

Reid, however, had a habit of noticing things others missed. His eyes flickered to the phone still in Hotch’s hand, the screen just dimming from inactivity. Before Hotch could slip it into his pocket, Reid’s sharp eyes caught your name on the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion as he processed the information.

“Y/N, as in the academy’s Y/N?” Reid asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Reid’s sharp mind to pick up on the anomaly. Reid’s brain worked at lightning speed, connecting dots that others might have missed. He knew Hotch was fiercely private, but this reaction was new.

“Goodnight Reid” Aaron replied, quickly, shutting down any further questioning that may have come from the young genius.

Reid blinked, taken aback, but his curiosity was now piqued. However, years of working with Hotch had taught him when to push and when to back off. “Have a good evening, Hotch.”

As Reid walked away, Hotch let out a slow breath. This wasn’t how he wanted the team to find out, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had always assumed it would be Reid who would notice first; the young profiler missed nothing. Still, he had hoped for a bit more time. But the cat was out of the bag now, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team found out.

The next morning, the BAU office was abuzz with more than the usual activity. Reid’s brief encounter with Hotch had set off a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the team. They were profilers, after all, and even the smallest clues could ignite their imaginations.

“I��m telling you, something’s definitely going on with Hotch,” Reid said as the team gathered in the bullpen before their morning briefing. He couldn't shake the image of your name on Hotch's phone from his mind.

JJ, trying to keep things under control, said, “Come on, guys, it could just be a friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing grin on his face. “Reid’s onto something. Hotch has been acting a bit differently lately. He’s not staying late like he used to.”

“And he’s been smiling more often,” Garcia added, her excitement barely contained. “The man’s practically glowing sometimes.”

Rossi, with a teasing tone, suggested, “Maybe he’s just getting better sleep. But I have to admit, there’s definitely something different.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you want to know? If Hotch is seeing someone, that’s huge!”

Rossi shrugged, still smirking. “Of course, I’m curious. But let’s give him some space. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. And if we’re lucky, we might even get to meet her.”

Prentiss grinned, "Do you think it’s serious? Like, she’s ‘the one’?”

“I think,” Rossi said thoughtfully, “if Aaron is keeping this under wraps, it’s because it’s important to him. He wouldn’t be so secretive if it wasn’t serious.”

Just then, Hotch entered the bullpen, and the conversation quickly shifted to a quieter, more focused buzz. The team members turned to their desks, but the air was charged with unspoken questions and speculative glances. Hotch, sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a brief nod before heading to his office.

As the day dragged on with paperwork and case briefings, the undercurrent of curiosity remained. The team exchanged looks, clearly eager to discuss Hotch’s secret, but they were careful to avoid bringing it up directly. The excitement about Hotch’s personal life was palpable, and everyone was waiting for the right moment to address the topic.

Later that evening, Aaron finally headed home after a long day. As he walked through the front door, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and a glass of wine in your hand. You looked up from the book you were reading, a smile spreading across your face when you saw him.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” you asked, setting the book aside as he walked over to you.

“Tiring,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And eventful. Reid saw a text from you last night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no. What did he say?”

“He asked if it was from you,” Aaron said, sitting down beside you. “I shut him down, but I think I gave myself away. The team’s been acting strange all day.”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “So, they’re onto us?”

He nodded, slipping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be now.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner,” you said, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “They are profilers, after all.”

He smiled down at you, his expression softening. “I never planned on keeping it a secret forever. I just figured they’d figure it out on their own time.”

“So, what��s the plan?” you asked with a playful grin.

He sighed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder. “I suppose it’s time to tell them. They’re already curious, and I’d rather they hear it from me than through rumours.”

“You know they’ll be happy for you,” you said, squeezing his hand. “For us.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But there’s a part of me that’s nervous. I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work, but with you… it’s different.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. “We’ll do it together, then. When you’re ready.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, but a playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Right now, I want to do anything but think about the team,” his voice dropped to a low murmur.

You felt the heat of his words and smiled, leaning in closer. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered, as he nuzzled against you, his lips brushing yours with a grin.

A few days later, Rossi had decided to host a dinner party for the team. The team was eager to catch up and enjoy the evening. Aaron knew it was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the team as his girlfriend.

As the doorbell rang, Rossi answered the door to find Hotch standing beside you. As you both entered the living room, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Hotch introduced you with a genuine smile.

“I’d like you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend,” Hotch said, his voice steady but warm.

The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into excitement. Garcia’s face lit up with recognition and delight. “Oh my God! It’s Y/N! I knew it was someone! This is incredible!”

Morgan’s grin widened as he approached. “So, this is the elusive woman behind Hotch’s new smile! You’ve been keeping us in the dark for too long, Hotch.”

JJ smiled warmly as she extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N, we’re really happy for both of you.”

Reid, ever the profiler, couldn’t resist asking, “How long have you two been together?”

Hotch laughed softly, putting an arm around you and smiling fondly. “Almost five months now. Y/N works as the unit chief for the BSU in the academy. I met her when she invited me to guest lecture.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I knew it! You two have that perfect power couple vibe. We have to plan another get-together so we can hang out more!”

Rossi, enjoying the moment, gave Hotch a friendly pat on the back. “Well, I guess this means you won’t be around for poker nights as often.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’ll still make time for poker nights, don’t worry.”

As the evening continued, the team enjoyed getting to know you better. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, light-hearted teasing, and genuine happiness for Hotch and you.

“So, when do we get to do this again?” Garcia asked eagerly.

Hotch smiled, feeling content. “Soon. We’ve been talking about having you all over for dinner. Now seems like the perfect time.”

As the team chatted and enjoyed the evening, Aaron felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Introducing you to his team had been a significant step, but their warmth and support made it all worthwhile. The thought of merging his work family with his personal life filled him with quiet joy.

As the party wound down and the team began to leave, Morgan gave Hotch a sly grin. “You know, Hotch, we’re happy for you, but don’t think we won’t give you a hard time about keeping this a secret for so long.”

Hotch chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, the team said their goodbyes and headed home, their spirits high. Hotch followed them, feeling grateful for the support of his team and looking forward to the future with you.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, would anyone be interested if I wrote for other fandoms such as F1 and Marvel? Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

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rainydayathogwarts · 5 months ago

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The team discovers you're dating - Aaron Hotchner

d/n: daughter's name.. Summary: The team discovers you're dating because of Jack's freudian slip. (singlemom!bau!reader) 0.7k wc

Small trudging footsteps paired with loud squeals caught the attention of the agents in the bullpen, an apologetic SSA following after his son. Derek and Penelope raced to the young boy, Derek scooping him up the second he was close enough, beating his work wife by seconds. "I'm sorry guys, national holiday and our sitter cancelled." The team dismissed him, understanding of his protectiveness over his son. After seeing so many cases, there was no way he'd let a random person look after his son. "I'll take him down to the daycare in a second, but Jack here just wanted to say hello to someone first."

Derek exaggeratedly frowned, looking down at the blonde boy "Is uncle Derek not the person you were looking for Jacky boy?" Jack shook his head, loud giggles filling the bullpen, just as the glass door opened one more. "Sorry guys," You started, trying to flip strands of hair out of your face while balancing your coffee and keeping your bag on your shoulder. "I had to drop d/n at daycare, sitter cancelled." You gasped loudly when you spotted the small figure in Derek's arms, placing all your things on the closest desk as you opened your arms wide. Jack wiggled his legs in Derek's arms so he could be put down on the floor, a wide smile gracing his features. You crouched down on the floor, grinning at the boy, who yelled loudly "Mommy!" as he ran into your arms.

An eerie silence filled the bullpen as all conversation died down. You wrapped your arms around the boy, his words sinking into your teammates' heads. You lifted Jack up into the air with a clueless smile, standing tall enough so you could see all of your coworkers' facial expressions, when it hit you. Your eyes widened and you froze, past the point of collecting yourself or trying to brush off what Jack said as an accident.

"What did he just say?" You hear Penelope interrogate, looking back and forth between the profilers in the room, hoping to get an answer. As though sensing the change in atmosphere in the room, Jack lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking up at your face. You moved your stance to balance him on your hip, using the other hand to pick up your to-go cup and take a long sip of your coffee. "You wanna try my coffee Jack?" You teased, breaking the silence between you and him, laughing as the boy pulled a face of disgust, remembering the time he smelt his dad's black coffee one morning when you were over with d/n.

"Yuck! ... Mommy, am I gonna see d/n?" He asks, swinging his legs happily. You're painfully aware of the eyes stuck on you and the boy, glancing up to look at Aaron, observing his reaction. He's smiling softly at you and his son, back turned to the other agents in the bullpen. He walks over to you just as you reply to Jack "She's in daycare right now! Do you want to go join her?" Jack nods excitedly, arms lifting up when his dad walks over, allowing him to take him from you. "Well since the cat's out of the bag." Aaron shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, walking out with Jack in his arms who giggles loudly "What cat daddy?"

With Jack finally facing away from you, you let all your emotions show up on your face: shock, confusion, and most importantly embarrassment to being exposed to your relentless team of close friends who will never stop the questions:

'How long?' 'Jack calls you mommy?' 'Don't you owe me money Morgan?'

You laugh at Spencer's comment, watching as Derek fishes his wallet out of his pocket, holding up a 20 dollar bill for Spencer to take. Rossi pushes himself off the desk behind him, where he faces Emily and the rest of the team. He sighs, shaking his head "For the record, I knew his whole time. And at least now you don't have to hide your ring, y/n." He states as he walks away. "You're married!?" Emily and JJ yell at the same time as Penny squeals loudly, running to hug you tightly. "Engaged!" You try saying over the noise. "Engaged not married!"

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writersblockedx · 6 months ago

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A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house.

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise."

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained.

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up.

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds one shot #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #x reader #fanfic #imagine #oneshot

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

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masterlist ♡

my requests are open! i'm comfortable writing for any sexuality, gender, and/or specified reader preference! my basic model is a fem!reader x male!character because that is how i myself identify and who i am attracted to -- so if you want something else just lmk!! <33

click here for my taglist :)

꩜ -- angst ♡ -- fluff ꕥ -- smut

Spencer Reid

Series

★ Bridges to Belonging ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six (18+) Part Seven (18+)

★ Finding Home Again ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two (18+)

-- -- -- Extras -- Jeans ♡ ꕥ Migraines ꩜ ♡ Bar ♡ Stood Up ꩜

★ i love you ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two

★ Short Shorts & Long Hair ꩜ ♡— Part One Part Two

★ Too Sweet ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two Part Three

★ Make You Feel My Love ꩜ — Part One Part Two Part Three

★ Something Better ꩜ — Part One Part Two

★ Breaking Point ꩜ ♡ — Part One Part Two

★ Too Damn Young ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two

★ Red ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two

★ Lost in Translation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

One Shots

Whispers in the Dark ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Set 'Em Up, and Knock 'Em Down ꩜ ꕥ

Needy ♡ ꕥ

Capturing the Queen ♡ ꕥ

Sweet & Sour Motivation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Moving Forward ꩜ ♡

Love in the Club ♡ ꕥ

Lost & Found ꩜ ♡

Strawberry Lemonade ♡

Not Her ꩜ ♡

Ghost of You ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Textual Tension ♡ ꕥ

Hookups & Holdouts ꩜ ♡

Better Late Than Never ♡

Illicit Affairs ꩜ ♡

No More Misunderstandings ♡

Forever & Always ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Depollute Me ♡

Say Don't Go ꩜ ♡

Oops: Wrong Person ♡ ꕥ

Blurbs

Silent Echos ꩜

Second Chances and Serendipity ♡

Ink Impressions ♡

Love in the Details ♡

The Hardest Goodbye ꩜

Ride 'Em Cowgirl ♡

Home in Jeans ♡ ꕥ

Car Wash ♡

They Were Never You ꩜ ♡

Rewritten Plans ꩜ ♡

Dare Ya ♡

Cream Cardigan ♡

Picture You ♡

Tummy ꩜ ♡

Home with Migraines ꩜ ♡

Matchmaker ♡

Always You ꩜ ♡

Home From The Bar ♡

Bedroom Eyes ♡

Federal Beach Investigation ♡

Stood Up & Home ꩜

Good Boy ꕥ

The Profile of Attraction ♡

A Reid Christmas ♡

Asks

A Gentle Embrace ♡

Southern Charm ♡

Cinephile ♡

Where We Were Meant To Be ꩜ ♡

Love Doctor ♡

Not Strong Enough ꩜ ♡

Birthday Surprise ♡ ꕥ

Technicalities ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Lucky ꩜ ♡

I Love You, I'm Sorry ꩜ ♡

Languages of Love ♡

Wounds: Physical & Emotional ꩜

Chip Taylor

Something's Gotta Give ꩜ ♡ ꕥ

Juno(OH) ♡

Hometown Glory ꩜ ♡

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magewritesstories · 14 days ago

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[ SPENCER REID ] WHIPPED

cw. derek uses a little experiment to prove that the reader's whipped for spencer (fluff.) wc. 542

"YOU ARE SO WHIPPED," Derek says as the two of you stand in the tiny kichenette next to the bullpen.

You turn towards him and raise a brow, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh? So you weren't making heart eyes at pretty boy just now?" he counters, "Or when he was going on about Doctor Who this morning, or yesterday when he told you that dumb fact about the Mayans and their sun calander?"

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about," you deny, reverting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Derek looks between you and Spencer before smirking. "Yeah? Let me give you a little explanation then."

He drags you over to Spencer's desk.

"Hey, pretty boy, Y/N and I were just talking about how horrible the coffee from the new coffee machine is," he said as the boy genius turned to them, "So she's going to that coffee shop down the street, you want anything?"

Spencer thought about it for a second, "Uh, no, I'm good actually."

"You sure, it's Y/N's treat?" Derek added in a sing-song.

"Uhm, I guess a glazed donut would be nice?"

You turn to Derek with a confused look on your face, which Spencer the Amazing Profiler somehow managed to miss.

Derek turns to you with a knowing smirk, "Give it a second—"

And just as those words leave his mouth Emily pipes up from next to JJ. "Oh, if you're going, get me a coffee?"

"I'd love a chocolate cookie," Penelope, who had come out of her batcave to hand over some reports to Hotch, adds excitedly, "You're going to that new coffee shop right? I could smell the deliciousness from a mile away."

Slowly but surely everyone in the bullpen piles onto it—all of them clearly not a fan of the new coffee machine either—and your teammate looks at you with a smirk.

"You want a notepad or?"

"Shut up."

The man lets out a bark of a laugh. "You'd have to dissapoint boy genius over there," he offered, before looking pointedly at Spencer who was now excitedly talking about the new café with Penelope, "But you could just not go."

You let out an annoyed huff as you looked at him too.

A full twenty minutes later you stood in front of Spencer's desk with a crumbled bag containing his favourite flavour of glazed donut (because of course I know what it is, Derek, I'm a good colleague), completely and utterly out of breath.

You'd just spent 15 minutes of your break running to and from the new café—in your brand new heels too— and then giving everybody their coffee and/or cookie.

"Thank you," the boy genius replied with a bright smile on his face, looking in the bag, "Oh, and you got my favourite flavour too, you're amazing!"

You just offer him a small, tired smile. "Of course, Spence, no problem."

On your way back to your desk, you walk into Derek, who's already leaning against his.

"Just couldn't stand dissapointing your pretty boy, huh?"

"I swear to all that is holy, Morgan, I will throw this scalding hot coffee on you."

"Yeah, yeah, you're so whipped."

"I hate you."

"W-H-I-P-P-E-D, whipped."

#criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #bau #behavioural analysis unit #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fanfiction

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mystargirl-interlude · 7 months ago

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This being the bau x reader coded omg

#aaron hotchner x reader #spencer reid x reader #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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em-prentiss · 7 months ago

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Ice cold

————

In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

————

The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you.

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth.

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says.

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt.

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice.

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place.

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out.

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up.

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state.

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows.

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in.

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?”

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again.

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

#emily is crying in the club lmfaoo #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #soft aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabble

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benevolentbones · 6 months ago

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kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: none really

word count: 1.4k

summary: spencer finally calls you and asks you out

a/n: the awaited part 2 is finally out, i hope you all enjoy this as much as part 1! if youd like me to write a part 3 let me know!

spencer drummed his fingers against his desk, the rhythmic thudding soothing his nerves.

in his free hand he held his phone, next to it the piece of paper you gave him at dinner from a few nights ago. not that he needed it, he had memorised everything you had scribbled down.

he had punched in all the digits of your phone number, his thumb hovered over the call button.

“what are you waiting for, pretty boy?” morgan questioned, the muscular man rested his hip against spencer’s desk, as he peered over to see what the genius was up to.

“i- i don’t know. i don’t know why i’m so nervous, she said she wants to go out with me but-“

“but you’re scared she will change her mind?” morgan reached over, grabbing the piece of paper from reid’s desk and analysing it.

spencer let out a frustrated groan, dropping his phone against the table and resting his forehead against the cool wood.

“reid, i don’t think she would change her mind man. i was watching you all night, she seemed to really dig you.”

without moving his head, spencer fixed his stare onto derek, side eyeing him.

“you think so?” he mumbled out, barely audible as he face was practically smushed against the desk.

“yeah i know so. so stop being so scared and just call her, invite her out.”

morgan gave the dark haired man a pat on the back before leaving him to do the thing he was dreading.

spencer picked his phone back up, your number still on screen just waiting to be rung. he exhaled, pressing his soft lips into a hard line before his thumb brushed over the call button.

it began to ring and spencer could swear his stomach dropped.

“hello?” your voice cracked through his phone, the familiarity of it relieving some of the pent up anxiety he was feeling.

“hey- y/n? it’s reid- spencer reid.” he mumbled out.

“oh! hey spence” your voice seemed more chipper after you realised who was calling you. “i’ve been waiting for your call.”

spencer was so lucky that you could not see the blush that spread across his face, he lifted a finger up, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

was it warm in here? damn.

“mm i was just calling- i wanted to know if you’d like to see a movie with me?”

spencer had interrogated hotch the other day while working a case, quizzing the older man about the things you enjoyed and what you didn’t like. he wouldn’t have dared go to gideon, so hotch was the next best option.

and through doing so he found out your love for going to the cinema.

“i love the movies!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too enthusiastic but spencer didn’t mind, a smile spread across his face.

you cleared your throat before continuing, “i would love to see a movie with you, spencer.”

“great-how does tomorrow night sound?” spencer chewed at his bottom lip, awaiting your answer.

“mhm that sounds good, how about i meet you outside your office at 7?”

“i-i’ll see you then.”

“see you, bye spencer.” and with that you hung up.

spencer placed the phone down on his desk, swivelling around in his chair. from across the room, derek was stood in conversation with penelope. spencer caught his glance, giving the older male a thumbs up.

“that’s my boy!” morgan yelled, causing a few sets of eyes to glance in his direction from his sudden outburst.

you stood outside the bureau, leaning against the cool brick wall. it was 6:58pm, and the sun was just setting.

usually you weren’t too concerned about what you’d wear out, or on a date even. but tonight you were a little nervous, and it took you almost two hours just to pick something.

you had decided on a black mid length pencil skirt, paired with an off the shoulder sweetheart blouse. you had only realised once you had left the house, that it wasn’t exactly the most weather permitting outfit, as it was late autumn, but you’d be indoors soon anyway so it wasn’t too bad.

you stared at the doors to the building, subconsciously playing with the strap on your purse.

seven o’ clock rolled around, and exactly as planned spencer reid strolled out of the building.

the dark eyed male had his signature pair of glasses resting upon his nose, his hair was combed back behind his ears, a few loose strands hung just over his eyes. he immediately spotted you, his stern facial expression softening as he shuffled over to you.

your breath hitched as you took in his appearance. his outfit didn’t much differ from what he wore at the birthday dinner, but seemed more casual. the shirt he wore wasn’t fully buttoned, his tie was hung looser but he still adorned a black suit jacket.

“hi” you mumbled out, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. luckily for you, the dimming light managed he conceal it, mostly.

“i hope you haven’t been waiting here long, ready to get going?” he quizzed, coming to a stop before you.

you looked up to the man who towered over you, and nodded. he lead you to his car and you both got in, spencer starting the ignition and driving off to the theatre.

the drive wasn’t too long, you were making small talk with him as he drove, asking about his day and such.

“they’re playing a screening of attack of the clones, i wasn’t sure if you liked star wars but i got us tickets.” he mumbled out, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he pulled up to the theatre.

your hands rested on your lap as you stared out of the window, glancing over to spencer.

“that sounds great, i like star wars.” you smiled, making his stomach do metaphorical backflips.

you and spencer got out of the car, walking side by side into the cinema.

“i’m going to- to get the tickets. would you like to pick out a snack?”

you nodded walking towards the concession stand. you spent a few minutes scanning the items, a puzzled expression reaching your features. spencer returned to you, the tickets in his hand.

“made a choice?”

“would you share gummy bears with me?”

“would that make you happy?” he mused, watching as a small smile crept onto your face.

you nodded, chewing your bottom lip.

he let out a small chuckle. “then yes, i will.”

spencer walked over to the cashier, and ordered a medium popcorn, two sodas and of course not forgetting the packet of gummy bears.

the two of you walked into the screening room, spencer glanced down at the tickets as you walked up the steps. he lead you to two seats in the back row.

once you sat down to his left, he passed you your soda which you accepted gratefully.

there was only two other couples sat when the commercials starting rolling.

“have you seen this before?” you whispered to spencer.

“mhm, it’s one of my favourites.” he whispered back, leaning closer to you. you tensed up when you felt his hot breath against your neck.

the opening credits started to play and you both settled into your seats, spencer and you both laying your arms on your respective arm rests, he held onto the bucket of popcorn in his free hand.

throughout the film spencer’s gaze would fall on you, as you stared straight ahead at the screen the flickering colours from the film illuminating your, in his opinion, perfect features.

he grew nervous, almost dropping the popcorn, you turned to him and let out a low giggle. “here let me take it.” you mumbled in a hushed tone, reaching for the popcorn which he passed off onto you, your fingers brushing his for a moment.

that small touch was enough to drive him crazy. inhaling sharply, spencer directed his vision onto the screen. he flexed his left hand, before cautiously placing it on top of yours.

you felt your face heat up, you took the opportunity to quickly interlock your fingers with his, giving them a small squeeze.

he turned to you, his face met with your wide eyes, softly staring back at him, a longing expression washing over your features.

spencer felt his heartbeat quicken, he could barely hold it together any longer. he swiftly pressed his lips against yours, kissing you feverishly. you melted into the kiss, letting go of his hand and trailing yours up to cup his cheek.

he deepened the kiss, his palm traveling to your hip as best as he could in the seated position.

when you both pulled away, you gasped for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his hair was now slightly disheveled, his glasses steamed up and his lips a few shades pinker.

spencer’s cheeks were stained a crimson, his mind as foggy as his glasses. you pressed another small peck to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.

“we’re about to miss the best bit.” you mused, your face warm.

“are you sure about that?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jenifer jareau #spencer reid #elle greenaway #jason gideon #gideon!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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cuddleprofiler · 28 days ago

Text

STITCHES — When you save Aaron and land in the hospital.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader, BAU x platonic!reader

Genre: Fluff, Whump & bickering

Warning: Kidnapping, getting shot, daddy issues (tell me if I missed any)

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Even if it's 3rd Nov officially here but I wrote this for Hotch's bday. It's not based around bday but I couldn't get an idea for that, so....Positive criticism is welcomed.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AARON HOTCHNER

“Y/L/N.”

“Y/L/N. Wake up.”

You heard a displeased sound, but all you could see was darkness.

“Y/N. Wake up!”

You heard the sound again.

“Y/N, as much as I would have wanted to let you sleep, this is not the situation.”

What is he talking about? Oh! Wait a minute. Who is he?

You tried to open your eyes, but it felt as if you had just returned from an exhausting shopping spree, stuffed to the brim and struggling to wake up. But that wasn't the case; there was no time for shopping now.

Your attention drifted to the sensation of someone's fingers wrapped around yours, pressing gently. The pressure wasn't hard, but it was enough to pull you from the depths of your subconscious, urging you to wake up and resist the temptation to whine for “five more minutes.” Suddenly, the memory of what happened rushed back, and your eyes flew open as if you hadn't been trying to wake up at all.

You glanced around frantically. The scene was tilted at an odd angle; everything seemed askew. That’s when you felt something—or rather, someone—shift beneath your head.

As soon as you attempted to move, you were hit with the familiar ache of someone who had just completed their first day at the gym.

“Y/L/N! Y/N! Calm down, calm down,” Hotch urged in his ever-composed voice.

Your eyes locked onto his warm, chocolate-brown ones, filled with care and concern. His irises darted left and right, never leaving yours, even for a moment.

Your gaze then fell on your wrists, turning red from the ropes being tied too tightly around them. But that wasn’t what was important. What was important was the fact that your right wrist was tied to his left, and his right was tied to your left.

“Who ties hands this way?” you exclaimed, looking up at Hotch with the innocent curiosity of a child in kindergarten, eagerly seeking answers from a teacher who loomed over you.

“I think it’s part of the ritual they perform before disposing of their victims. They want to create an emotional connection before they end their lives by manipulating them.”

You nodded in understanding, trying to focus your vision, blinking several times to clear the fog from your eyes. Suddenly, everything faded to black.

When you came to again, your head rested on Hotch’s shoulder, and both of your hands lay haphazardly on your thighs.

“It’s a symptom of the drug—losing consciousness for a few minutes,” he said.

“You let them drug me?” you questioned, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice, sure that he would protect you.

He looked at you in confusion, his expression scrunching up as if you were an alien rather than the agent he had known for months—someone he had never fantasized about(why would you think that?)

“We’re being kept captive,” he said, as if he were reminding you.

“We're kidnapped.”

“You could say that.”

“Being formal about this doesn’t change anything, Aaron. We are kidnapped,” you insisted, your voice rising as you widened your eyes to look into Hotch’s, which had narrowed as he stared intently at you.

Hotch had never seen you like this. You were usually the one to shy away from confrontation, avoiding discussions as if you were facing a gallows. You would opt out of outings with promises of future plans, crafting convincing lies that most believed—except for Rossi and him, who saw through your facade. He didn’t know you had this fire within you.

“You said this would be safe. We’d go to the party to meet your colleagues and return home soon,” you said, accusation lacing your voice, making Hotch set his eyes on you, anger evident in them.

“Yes, but you also knew the dangers lurking around in the city right now, didn’t you, Y/N/N?”

“But you didn’t put a sign saying ‘idiot’ in front of your name, did you? You have years of experience dealing with danger; you walk around with that stoic ‘I am the boss. Don’t mess with me’ vibe, and you’re saying you didn’t know what you were getting into?”

“Like you knew what you were getting into? You came in with roses to propose that day, right before I was leaving, with your enchanting face and beautiful wide eyes. Yet none of those things told me about your lack of common sense and respect.”

“Oh, please! Like you have a lot of common sense. You know what? You should drink your coffee with some sugar. Maybe it will help sweeten your bitter tongue.”

“Yeah, like the amount of sweets you consume did yours?”

“Don’t go after my sweets.”

“Then don’t comment on my coffee.”

“Then what should I comment on? Huh? How you can’t keep your hair in place? Seriously, how do those strands keep falling on your forehead?” Your gaze drifted toward the way his hair fell, then back to his eyes, and finally to his lips.

He noticed where your eyes wandered but kept his expression neutral. By “neutral,” he meant hiding how his heart plummeted at the brief longing in your gaze.

“Y/N, have some dignity when it comes to my hair. You use serum to tame the jungle of your morning madness and keep it presentable throughout the day.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by Hotch’s unexpected remark. For a brief moment, your eyes met his, a spark of connection flickering before you both returned to the weight of the situation.

How does he know I wake up with a jungle for hair?

Your mind wandered back to the other day when you were telling the girls about this, who then suggested you get some hair products while Hotch and Rossi walked by.

He remembers such trivial things about me.

Stop it! He’s a profiler. It’s in his nature to remember things about people. Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N.

The team had profiled the unsubs to be from the upper class; they had the means to enter these sorts of parties without striking to anyone as odd. The way the victims were disposed of spoke about the unsubs being used to ostentation without meaning to, fitting into the norms of upper-class society.

You and Hotch knew you would be abducted. It was part of the plan; you basically set the stage to lure the unsubs in. Initially, you and Hotch were reluctant to go—more you than him because you found him attractive. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes off him the whole night, especially as the people at elite parties dressed to the nines, and you were sure the way the whole team was looking at you would make you drool all night. You pressed your lips together, trying to stop yourself from imagining your handsome boss in a tight shirt, flexing his arms, showing off his muscles.

No, no, no! There’s no way I would be able to focus on catching the unsub.

However, none of them accepted your “no”—not even Hotch. He told you how you would be the perfect choice, seeing the pattern of female victims remained the same—one that you would fit. He turned you slightly toward himself by your shoulders, looking you right in the eye, promising that nothing would go wrong and that he would be there the whole time with you. Promise!

What you didn’t know was that they would hurt you to make you comply. The female victims had fought back; you would have to do the same. But none had been hit in the head—either they weren’t, or you were the unfortunate one. If so, the coroner made a grave mistake, and you would deal with him when you got out of here because your head was pounding like crazy. You were sure you had at least a mild concussion

You and Hotch had strategized in his hotel room the previous night, reviewing case files and delving into the plan to demonstrate a temper akin to that of the unsub and to display behavior contrary to the victims.

“What if we don’t show fear?” you suggested.

He raised an eyebrow, and seeing his expression made you gulp. You hadn’t thought much before speaking; it was a bad habit, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself.

“Elaborate,” he prompted.

When he nodded, you continued, speaking slowly to avoid waking the sleeping bear that resided within Hotch—the one that got angry and lectured people.

“So what if we show other emotions? Throw them off? They’re organized and live for perfection. Fear is part of the torture they perform, but they won’t be able to if we don’t let things go their way.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

He seemed impressed, his tone hinting at approval. You looked down to hide your blush, and as you pondered your next idea, you began pacing the floor while Hotch sat in his chair. After a while, he realized it had been too long since you started pacing and opened his mouth to stop you.

“Argue!”

Hotch widened his eyes in disbelief. “You want us to argue while we’re kidnapped?”

“Yeah!”

He was trying to match your enthusiasm, but he struggled to comprehend your willingness to argue with him—let alone with anyone. “Are you sure?”

You turned to him, feeling a seed of insecurity beginning to take root. “I think the idea could work well, sir. However, there’s a chance it won’t be effective with me. You can choose someone else from the team if you’d like.”

He immediately recognized that he had done a poor job of reassuring you. “I want you to be there. With me.”

“Are you really su—?”

“I am, Y/N. We will go to the ball and execute the plan.”

You nodded your head, without any further arguments. He used anyone's first name on the team only when he was quite serious.

Before you could speak again, one of the unsubs struck both of you, causing you to flinch in pain.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” one of them yelled, his brows knitted in frustration.

If anyone asked them, they would surely return the two chuckleheads they had kidnapped. You two were effectively ruining their game.

“All of the previous ones shivered in fear before us, begged us to spare their lives, but you two are… bickering?” He toyed with the knife in his hands—the same knife you suspected had been used to stab the female victims multiple times. Stuffing down the feeling of emptiness inside, you forced a sweet smile.

“See, first of all, we were arguing, not bickering,” you huffed, feigning annoyance at their mislabeling rather than genuine fear.

Things I do for this job!

“Exactly. And what are you saying about fear? Try living with this woman—she's a walking nightmare!”

He means dream, actually.

You gasped. “YEAH! You didn’t see the nightmare when you happily accepted my proposal. Oh! Or at the altar?”

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, wearing the ring, would I?” he retorted, giving you a fake smile—more mocking than sincere.

The team had taken care of the rings for the whole undercover mission and made you guys wear them in front of them.You closed your eyes slightly, suddenly remembering the embarrassment of that moment, the heat rising in your cheeks.

The way your cheeks were turning red, Hotch was glad this was a mission and he was not actually married to you; otherwise, he would never be allowed to set foot in the house after the stunt he just pulled. He was definitely sure of that. You were clenching your fists. He wondered whether they were for beating him up or controlling your anger.Your eyes betrayed your frustration, the one you were trying to hide.

She’s a wonderful actor.

“I’m telling you, Aaron. Shut up!”

The way your name rolled off your tongue sounded so soft and fluffy that he could hardly believe it. He knew his heart would ache when you went back to Hotch. He pursed his lips.

“You always complain about me not giving you enough time,” you said, your voice harsh. He nodded in acknowledgment.

You and Hotch could see the team surrounding the room, clad in FBI vests with guns trained on the unsubs. When you glanced at Hotch, he signaled for you to proceed with the plan.

He knew it was risky, but it was a solid strategy to shock them. You were against it. Your face had turned horrified the night before when he explained his plan. It felt as if he had promised you paradise and then snatched it away. You were hesitant at first; he understood, but eventually, you warmed up to the idea.

“Tell me, why should I make time for you when you're always busy at the FBI? In your office, having an affair with your case files,” you said, your tone dripping with feigned anger.

“Like you aren’t in the office, working so hard that you don’t even remember your husband works in the same place.”

Your heart stopped for a moment. You mentally squealed at his use of the term ‘husband.’

How much I wish it were real!

“Wait, what?” one of the unsubs asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

“What?”

“What did you guys just say?” His tone was low, likely from the shock of realizing he had kidnapped two FBI agents.

“You’re FBI?”

“From everything we’ve said, that’s what you gathered?”

As the realization hit him and he raised his gun to shoot you and Hotch, Morgan and Emily barreled into the room, swiftly disarming them. Thus, ending your and Hotch’s plight.

“You know, for being a parent, you are quite adventurous.” You said to Hotch as you walked down the stairs, who in turn moved his head toward you. You were so close that one move and your noses would touch.

“What can I say? Being with you brings out my inner talent,” he answered back, continuing the funny banter you had begun.

You chuckled quietly. “Oh really? Then I probably should tell Garcia about this. She would be really happy for you to try new things.”

“No. I’m pretty happy that those types of adventures are out of my comfort zone,” he added.

“Getting kidnapped comes in your arena, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he let out a laugh.

Lost in the bickering, neither of you noticed anything else. You were so invested in winning and being lost in each other’s eyes that you paid no heed to your surroundings.

The team and the detectives were searching the place for any other evidence or things that needed their attention. Hotch, being the boss, should have been there. He knew that. You knew that, but neither of you made any attempt to move, staying in your place and bickering like an old married couple.

Unbeknownst to you, the hours spent in captivity had forced you out of your comfort zone with him. You were trying to retreat back to your ‘before-you’ self, but it was proving to be a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Hotch was grappling with similar feelings.

He didn't interact like this with anyone on the team, except Dave, but he had known him before he became Unit Head. When he transitioned from prosecutor to agent and had a wonderful life—not the broken one like now—Dave had been a part of that life. It was easier to share things with the man who had seen him evolve into the man he was today. He would always understand where he was coming from.

On the other hand, the others were too young to be burdened with his matters. They didn't know much about him, and it would be foolish to share too much with them. However, you were the exception.

Suddenly, your gaze landed on a figure at the top of the stairs, his finger poised on the trigger. You instinctively pushed Hotch aside, but you couldn’t move yourself.

Though you had some inkling of what was happening, you felt no pain. Instead, you saw shadows moving around you, felt a shove, and then you were falling, like a ragdoll.

For a fleeting moment, an unfamiliar fluttering stirred in your stomach—not the kind that came for him, but something more alarming.

What the hell? Why does it hurt?

You closed your eyes, wishing the pain would vanish as if it were a fleeting thought. When you opened them again, you found yourself in someone’s arms, both of you on the ground, the ceiling above seeming impossibly high. Your head rested on his forearm.

Honestly, it was getting hard to put together what was going on. You closed your eyes again. But soon, someone was patting your cheeks, asking you to wake up!

Rude! What happened to manners?

As you opened your eyes to scold the intruder, you were met with the most beautiful brown eyes you had ever seen. Had you been more lucid, you might have noticed the worry and glistening tears in those eyes. You raised your hand to touch Aaron's face, but it felt impossibly far away.

I need to eat more. I have no energy.

Aaron caught your hand in his.

“It's okay, Y/N. It's okay,” he said softly, a tone you had never heard from him before.

I want to hear his soft voice every day.

A sharp pressure at your wounds made you gasp. You gripped the person’s wrist, trying to stop him, but he didn’t flinch, continuing to apply pressure. Pain shot through you, relentless and overwhelming.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

He was feeling the pain of getting you shot. One minute, you both were talking, and the next he was on the floor while Reid shot down the assailant.

Hotch grabbed you instinctively, lowering your hand to keep you safe before you could fall hard. His focus was solely on you, blocking out the chaos around you. Just moments ago, he was teasing you, trying to draw you out, and now he was fighting to keep you with him. He never saw the attack coming, but you had, and you had acted heroically to save him.

This moment shouldn't have happened. He took off his jacket hurriedly.

Your darting eyes and panicking face pulled him out of his train of thoughts—more of a train of depressing thoughts. He clutched your hand, trying to provide some comfort, some sort of… anything to keep you from feeling only numbness. To keep you here.

Your breathing grew shallow, and he could feel your heartbeat racing beneath his fingertips.

“Y/N, listen to me. Look at me,” he urged in a firm yet gentle tone, and you complied.

“Take a deep breath. Copy mine.”

He guided your hand to his chest, demonstrating as best he could.

“I know it’s hard. Please, just try,” he said, watching your eyes flutter open and close.

His sole purpose was to comfort you, to ensure you lived. You had to— for the team, for your family, for him.

He pursed his lips and scanned for the paramedics, who should have been there by now. He fought the urge to shout for them as your blood soaked his clothes at a pace that terrified him.

Your groans sent a chill through him, a reminder of the stakes.

How could I have made such a mistake? What did I do?

Dave appeared as if summoned, taking the jacket from Hotch and applying pressure to your wounds. You winced at the pain, squeezing Dave's wrist to distract yourself.

“It’s okay, it's okay, it's okay, Y/N. Don't worry. I need to do this. I’m sorry, but it's required.”

“It hurts,” you said, tears in your eyes.

“I know, I know, Bambina. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve called the paramedics. They’re stuck in traffic,” JJ rushed in, her voice laced with frustration.

“Tell them to hurry!” Hotch snapped.

“I have, but they said it’s going to take time,” JJ replied, anger and helplessness evident in her tone.

“It’s okay, JJ,” you said, trying to comfort her despite your own pain.

Hotch’s mind immediately wandered to Kate. Just how similar the situation was. So much blood had been on the road in New York, and he was trying to stop the bleeding while Kate spoke whatever came to her mind. How he tried and failed! Failed Kate. Failed in protecting you. Today again, he had been placed in a similar situation. However, he wouldn't let you lose your life today.

“Make it stop, Aaron. Please, please, please.”

“I’m trying, Y/N.”

He was sure your cries would forever haunt him. The pleas to save you would plague his mind like how Hayley's death did.

“Hotch.” He looked at you.

“What happened?” you asked him, dazed.

“You were shot.”

He could see the delirium in your eyes, the blood still flowing, your head tilting to the side.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Open your eyes. Keep them open.”

“You're being mean.”

“I would rather be mean than let you lose your life, Y/N,” he said in a desperate tone, wanting you to stay conscious until the medics arrived.

“WHERE ARE THE MEDICS?”

He yelled, succumbing to his instinct to urge them to hurry.

“Don't yell, Aaron, please.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I won't.” Neither of you noticed the slip.

As sirens wailed in the distance, he gathered you into his arms, pressing his jacket to your wounds, and rushed outside, placing you on the gurney. He relayed the necessary information while clutching your hand, reassuring you both that everything would be alright. It had to be.

He looked down at his hands. Covered in blood—your blood—they were crimson, reminiscent of a child's crayon used for innocent drawings. Yet today, the red staining Hotch's hands and sleeves, which he had dismissed, marked your act of sacrifice to save him. Save him. He chuckled bitterly at the thought.

Why on earth would she save me?

He thought about the numerous times he let someone down in various ways. Hayley always topped the list. He had ruined the one good thing in his life back then—the thrill of their early relationship.Guilt wrapped around him like a suffocating embrace every time he was away on a case.Not being there with her, even for a day, felt like a punishment.

However, as time flew, he gained more responsibilities, going from being a newbie on the team to being the Unit Chief when Gideon took the teaching job at the Academy. From worrying about not being home for a day, he became worried about how to solve cases and how to tell his wife he wouldn't be there again.

It was a mess. His life was a mess. He was a mess. And you put your life on the line to save the man who didn’t have anything in his life to live for except for his son.

He could feel the coldness of the hospital’s black seats, on which he was adamantly made to sit. While he tried to give a stare, he was no competition for Dave, who just raised an eyebrow in response.

“How on earth do you plan to help her if you constantly try to land in the hospital, Aaron?”

With an audible sigh, he dropped into the seat beside Garcia, who muttered words that sounded like “She’s going to be okay” and “Don’t worry, Penelope. She’ll come back and confess her love.” Hotch had no idea what she meant.

His eyes drifted toward the operating room. He didn’t know how long he had been staring, lost in thought until he felt a hand resting on his knees. Morgan had placed his hand there, a silent reminder to stop bouncing his legs.

“She’ll be alright,” Spencer said, his voice filled with such conviction that it ignited a flicker of hope in Hotch’s heart, warming the void that had settled since he had held you in his arms, your blood and life slowly leaving your body.

He was struck by how quickly you had integrated into the team, despite having joined not long ago.

He couldn't help but reminisce about the first time you entered the bullpen. He always laughed at that memory. You looked like a child who had entered their favorite toy shop, looking around in the hope of buying the whole shop, even if it was impossible. He could see the way your eyes lit up at every scene they captured.

He concluded that it was probably due to being in the BAU, chalking it up to your dream. If you had such wide, radiant eyes at the prospect of meeting unsubs, then he needed to order an evaluation, stat.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize when he stopped and was basically in your path until you bumped into him and jumped two feet back as if you had just been electrocuted. Maybe you did, because he felt a spark through his body when you made contact. He shook his head slightly, hoping not to be noticed, and focused on your apologizing self.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I didn't see you there, Sir. I was—”

“No worries, Agent. It happens,” he reassured, sensing your anxiety and hoping to quell the panic rising in you.

He didn't know why, but the way you reacted stuck with him. As time went on, he couldn't help but notice how you reacted to things. It was rather wrong of him to profile you, but after being on this job for so long, he did it naturally. He sensed that your fidgeting stemmed from some past trauma, a lingering shadow you carried.

Once, Garcia and Reid came into the office, looking downright nervous.

“Sir, we want to ask you something, and we don't know if you’re gonna get upset, but we need to ask. We don’t mean it in a negative way—”

“Yeah, it’s just we’ve noticed things and thought we should clarify. We know you couldn’t do it, but—”

“What is it?” Hotch asked, hoping to get them out of the awkward situation they had placed themselves in.

“Have you said something to Y/N?”

“In what context?” He didn't know where this was going. He talked to you about many things—from cases to asking about your mental health to your godson’s picture, which you kept on your desk, and whose soccer game you attended where you met Aaron—and he knew they could be talking about anything.

“Sir, we’ve seen the way she fumbles and the constant fidgeting with her bracelet. So, we thought you had scared my new favorite pookie,” she said, now herself looking scared to stand in front of her boss.

“No, I didn’t, Garcia and Reid,” he said, addressing the genius as well, who looked at him with fear, the expression screaming, If you scare my friend, I won’t leave you. “I am not aware of the reason she does it, but I’m pretty sure I’m not behind it.”

At that moment, the reason for your anxiety walked onto the floor, flanked by a cadre of guards. He was a significant figure, an employer who provided for many—but to you, he was the man responsible for your fear.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N?” the doctor called out.

“Yes.” The answer came in unison, and the team exchanged glances as Hotch stepped forward.

“The operation was successful. We’ll keep her under observation for a few days, but she’s going to make a full recovery.”

They sighed in relief at the news and thanked the doctor, who walked away smiling. Hotch felt his knees ready to collapse with the sheer amount of relief he experienced. He shuddered, thinking of everything that had happened during the last few hours. Hearing the news about you brought a smile to his face. His professionalism faded into something more intimate, a shared feeling of happiness growing inside his chest at the thought of you being okay again.

Suddenly, a commotion drew their attention—doctors, senior staff, arriving to greet a man Hotch didn’t recognize.

“She’s doing okay now. The bullets went through, but we repaired the damage. She’ll be just fine,” one of the doctors assured.

Then the gruff voice reached him. “Are you SSA Aaron Hotchner?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Arthur Y/L/N, Y/N’s father.”

“Hello, sir.” Hotch extended a firm handshake.

“And I assume this is the team, right?”

Everyone either nodded their heads or, in some cases, gave a little wave. However, the common factor was that they all looked confused.

“None of you got injured?” he demanded.

Hotch maintained his stoic demeanor while Emily replied, “No, sir.”

Arthur snorted. “Shows Y/N’s incompetence, doesn’t it?”

The team stiffened, sensing the tension. Hotch narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I know, I know. She isn’t cut out for this agent thing. I’ve known her since she was a child. I know her capabilities.”

Morgan and Reid exchanged incredulous glances, fully aware of your remarkable capabilities in fighting, learning, and prioritizing. Rossi shot them a warning glance, suppressing the urge to confront the man standing before them.

Hotch opened his mouth to respond, but the audacity of Arthur Y/L/N cut him off, allowing the tirade to continue.

“Her decision-making ability was nonexistent from the very beginning. If I hadn’t guided her, she wouldn’t have even finished her studies—she’d probably be stuck with a GED or something. I know, Agent Hotchner, it takes a great deal of skill to thrive in this field.”

No, you don’t, Hotch thought, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Mr. Arthur Y/L/N sighed as if he couldn’t help but stop, having so much to say but not wanting to expose his problem child.

“I hope, Agent Hotchner, you make the right decision now. You’ve seen how she ended up in the hospital. What good could it do for her to stay? If she leaves the FBI, your headache would vanish. I have my son handling my business right now—he could do something for her.”

Listening to him talk about you—a friend, a daughter figure, perhaps even a future lover—filled everyone with rage, yet no one dared to speak. They knew Hotch would take care of it; he didn’t need their help.

“Listen, Mr. Y/L/N. Y/N is the most hardworking and dedicated agent I’ve ever encountered. So don’t you dare speak ill of her,” Hotch said, stepping closer, his anger simmering as he examined the features you had inherited from this man. The thought of you living under his shadow sickened him.

“The decision I’m about to make is to have you removed for speaking against a federal agent and trespassing when she doesn’t want you here.”

“How would you know that?” Arthur challenged.

“I’m pretty sure she never contacted you after moving out. You must have people watching her closely; you got here too quickly for someone who wasn’t even contacted. By the way, I just remembered—you aren’t her emergency contact.”

Hotch was. A fact he was pretty joyful and grateful about, despite how he felt he had broken your trust.

“A father having his daughter trailed just to know about her speaks volumes. Do you know she’s afraid to speak because she doesn’t want to be a bother, doesn’t want to be scolded just because you used to talk to her like that? She cut all contact with you so she wouldn’t have to be near you, so it would be best if you leave before I take drastic measures.” His voice rose, startling Garcia.

Now, everything fell into place for everyone in the room, and their hearts broke.

How could a father be like this?

They had encountered many men like Arthur, but they had hoped that beneath your caring exterior lay a loving family—something none of them had ever known. But they forgot that none of them had any chance of that; otherwise, they wouldn’t be in the BAU.

“Jack is lucky to have you as his father.” Your comment now made more sense in Hotch’s mind.

“She’s just another agent to you. You can dispose of her. No need to make a fuss,” Arthur continued with a crooked smile.

“She’s not an item you can dispose of. She’s a person, an individual. She’s special to many people.”

“Oh yeah? Who is she important to? To you?”

“Yes. And if I ever see you near her without her permission, I won’t hesitate to get a restraining order. I’m letting you off this time because you’re her father.”

“I will end your career, Agent Hotchner,” Arthur threatened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Try your best.” Hotch turned and walked toward your room, leaving Arthur to simmer in his anger.

“What a pretty face to wake upto.” you said, making him move his head from the window he had been looking out of, thinking about your father. You looked at him with a soft smile.

As you offered the compliment, Hotch felt an unexpected warmth flood his cheeks, a rare blush creeping up beneath his usually stoic demeanour. His heart quickened, betraying the calm facade he so often maintained.

It was a warmth that contrasted sharply with the wan smile Arthur had worn. Hotch felt a surge of protectiveness. Hotch was sure he would have done something if your father hadn’t left quietly. However, he was certain of one thing: he wouldn’t have regretted it. He would never regret standing up for any of his teammates—especially not for you. Hotch smiled softly.Yes, you bore a resemblance to your father, but you radiated warmth and humanity that set you apart. And you had a very pretty smile.

When you finally woke up, it felt surreal. Before you sat the man of your dreams, the one who had invaded your thoughts for months.

I know I have a crush on you, but geez! Stay out of my dreams!

You squinted at him, still dazed.

“Was he here?”

“Who?” Hotch feigned ignorance, but you shot him a look that he recognized as one Dave had taught you.

“How do you know?”

As far as he knew, no one except the medical staff had been in your room.

“Your face. I have a talent for reading expressions, especially yours.”

“Seriously?”

“No. The nurse mentioned you argued with him earlier.”

“I’m sorry for—”

“Don’t. You did me a favor, Aaron.”

“Wow! Your name sounds nice,” you mumbled, and Hotch felt his heart swell. He knew the medication had you loopy, but he was genuinely flattered.

“Then also—”

“Shhh. Just listen. I would have fought him too.”

Your gaze held his, and he felt the weight of everything between you—the unspoken connection, the shared warmth. His usually stoic expression softened as he grasped your hand.

“You’re not alone anymore, Y/N. I’m here for you.” He smiled, and you returned it, a spark igniting in the air between you. For the first time in a long while, there was hope.

From the doorway, the rest of the team watched, unable to tear their eyes away from the chemistry crackling between you and Hotch. It was a warmth that cut through the sterile chill of the hospital, a bond forged in adversity.

“What just happened?” Prentiss whispered.

“I believe we just witnessed the start of a love story,” Rossi replied with a knowing smirk.

“Bossman is in love,” Morgan added, grinning.

“Well, it’s better than watching them steal glances at each other and be awkward,” JJ said, smiling at the prospect.

“Actually, it’s going to be more. They’re bound to evolve into more affectionate gestures,” Reid chimed in.

“Nooo. It’ll be cringeworthy, but the blackmail potential would be priceless,” Morgan teased.

“Oh my! We can use this for their wedding speech!” Garcia exclaimed.

“Wedding?” Rossi raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” JJ admitted.

“Yeah, probably they won’t even start dating anytime soon,” Prentiss added.

“You haven’t been in love, Em. I’m telling you, they’re going to get married soon,” Garcia insisted.

But in that moment, as Hotch stood by your bedside, he felt the flicker of hope—perhaps even love—beginning to ignite in the space between you. A new chapter was unfolding, filled with promise, support, and a chance for happiness.

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