#i love soft hotch :(

[bilesxbilinskixlahey]

AAAAHHHHHH this is so sweet!! lovesick is just how I like my men. and 'honey'???? YES PLS HOTCH a masterpiece

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

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Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

[reidluv3]

I need his hug please

[bau-drabbles]

aaron 100% does face masks with you and gets upset if you start your self care sesh without him

this idea is so sweet omg, i love spa days with aaron bae :") <33

"love i said i'd only be 15 more minutes" his slight huff is heard as he enters your bedroom. you chuckle a little, looking at the small pout that's on his lips when he comes next to you. it was finally friday night and after a long tedious work case, he wanted nothing more than to be all wrapped up with you watching your favourite series. only now he felt slightly betrayed at your lack of patience and starting your shared ritual without him

"you took too long" your answer comes as a gentle tease, setting down the red face mask you've finished applying on your face perfectly. you note his eyes slightly narrowing at you, holding back the eyeroll as he answers

"only because i bought the snacks that you wanted" hotch quipped back but there's a soft smile that pulls on his lips as he sets down the bags next to you, removing his jacket. there's a tenderness as he kisses your temple carefully, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for comfort

"well i'd better catch up, hadn't i?" his voice is soft, amusement laced between the words as he changes into more comfortable clothing. jack was staying at his aunts for the weekend so you both had all the time in the world to focus on each other, relishing in each others company

hotch chose the panda headband to pull his hair back as you grab the mask, the one you're currently wearing since he likes to do the same steps as you even if he doesn't quite understand the purpose behind them. but he likes the feeling and your company above all. he would've been content watching paint dry so long as he had you by his side

hotch is an intelligent fbi agent and a strong man but here, this is where he can finally be aaron. just aaron, a man who's spending time with his love. he had all these little questions about the face masks, his face resembling the same face jack makes when he's utterly curious about something and it makes your heart gush at his innocence.

"feels funny" he comments, looking in the mirror at himself while you nod with amusement, looking back at the pot.

"it contains mint extract that's why it feels tingly" you answer him and he nods softly, enjoying the comfortable silence that settles between you two. the tv is playing but neither of you care to pay attention, his arms wrapped up around your waist as he takes a warm sigh of relief for the first time that day. the tension from his shoulders practically melt away and a tender smile pulls on his lips just at the sight of you

"i love you" he murmurs softly, kissing your lips carefully in order not to smudge your face mask while your lips pull into a sweet smile

"i love you too" you hummed, ruffling your hand softly against his hair. his dimples show as he presses another kiss to your lips, his hands laced with yours while he snuggles close.

"but don't you think about starting early next time"

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

ACTUAL FOOTAGE OF THE TWO OF US BOTHERING HOTCH WHEN HE’S AWAY AND WE’RE FACETIMING HIM FOR NO GOOD REASON

BAHAHAHA ROME YES YES.

He loves us so so much but he literally can't deal with our shit sometimes lmfao. But us doing this makes him laugh and smile because he MISSES US and our funny little (big) personalities 🤭. Facetiming him because we miss him and he thinks we're calling because of an emergency but really it's just us annoying our poor old man because we love him and miss his cute self 🤭🥹. I feel like we'd be like this but when it's time for him to leave the video call we are sad like "🥺🥺 okay a-a-ron 😔😔 we'll see you in a few days :( :( bye 🥺🥺🫶🫶😚😚" and we UNINTENTIONALLY make him a little sad too 🥺. BUT IT'S ALL OKAY because he comes home to us and we all end up in a huge hug pile🤭🤭. Just hugs for so so long<3333. (Among other things after hugs lmfao) but he loves when we randomly call him (even if it's not always at the most convenient time) and say/do stupid shit. Or seeing our random videos and photos in our gc. Or the two of us having a conversation he doesn't really need to be included in but we're still using the gc because WE CAN. Blowing up his phone with stupid things he'd find annoying from anyone else but adores and loves when it's coming from us 🤭.

Rome ily feel free to send me things like this whenever you want 🤭🫶.

[scorpiomindfuck]

I've only ever seen gifs of the part where Hotch trains for the triathlon and

EXCUSE ME SIR

No one told me he looked this good

Like he looks good in the gifs but HA

I had to pause and replay this first moment, geez

[greg-montgomery]

SWOONING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hii, I hope you’re having great day/night. I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your Aaron writing, especially Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader. I read your requesting rules and I hope that this qualifies (I’m really sorry if it doesn’t), but I’ve been thinking about this concept for a while so I thought I’d give it a try. I absolutely adored how reader’s child always adored Hotchner but this time I was thinking what about reader’s daughter (around 4 or 5) who actually feels intimidated by Hotch (because you know this ‘scary bossman persona’) or maybe reader’s daughter that is not the biggest fan of Hotch and is possibly very sassy with him and is protective of her mum but reader and Hotch have this slightly flirty or like the very beginning of their relationship with a possibly fluffy/happy ending if that’s possible.

You really do feel bad knocking on Hotch's office door at 7:30 in the morning, for both your sleepy daughter and your formidable boss. He's a kind man, you know that with all of your heart, but to your tiny four-year old, he's tall, mean, and scary.

"Come in," Hotch calls, his voice muffled through the door. At the sound, your daughter curls tighter into your embrace, whining pitifully through the blanket that she's wrapped around her head.

"I know, Olivia," You hum, trying to soothe her nerves, "Just for a minute. You can sit on the couch, that's all."

She squirms in your hold while you open the door, smiling hesitantly when Hotch looks up from his paperwork to find you cradling your groggy daughter.

"She's got a cold, and the sitter cancelled," You lament, "And- uh, I need to use the bathroom."

You're constantly surprised at how strongly Aaron cares for children, because someone with his scowl doesn't seem the type. But his eyes flash with worry, and he leans back from his desk in his chair, "Do you think she'll let me hold her?"

Olivia writhes in your hold, a firm no.

"It's okay," You hum, kissing her head though it helps little, "It's okay, baby, I'm gonna put you on the couch, okay? Get cozy with your blanket," You hum, laying her on the cushions before she has the chance to curl her fingers into your blouse and never let go, "And just try to sleep, I'll be back in just a few minutes, okay?"

She moans something that sounds an awful lot like 'not okay!' but you can't afford to listen, not when your bladder is making its contents uncomfortably known.

"Okay, I'll- I'll be right back," You promise Hotch, straightening your clothes that were wrinkled by your clingy daughter, "I'm sorry about this, I'll make sure she's at home tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Hotch urges, "Go, I'll make sure she's okay."

"Thanks," You grin, exhaustion seeping over your features after the long, nearly sleepless night you'd had. You duck out of Hotch's office with no further delay, rushing over to the elevator bay and the bathrooms on the other side of it.

"Olivia," Hotch hums after a moment of silence where the little girl tries burrowing between his couch cushions to escape his presence, "Did your mommy give you medicine already?"

She's scared, but she's still polite.

"Yes," She calls, from inside of her blanket cocoon, but there's no further response.

"Alright," Aaron hums quietly, fingers fiddling awkwardly with his pen, "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No."

'Okay. Just... let me know if you need anything, okay?" He calls, any foolish hope he'd had of connecting with the little girl seeping out of his chest when she doesn't answer.

--

Thirteen minutes. It takes you thirteen minutes to get through the line outside of the restroom, who knew this place would be so packed early in the morning? It takes you longer still to actually use the bathroom, and you're teetering on twenty minutes when you jog back up the stairs of Hotch's office to collect your sullen kid.

You don't bother knocking, too rushed to get inside and apologize for sticking Hotch with your sick, terrified toddler for almost half an hour, and to apologize to Olivia for abandoning her with the big scary man who tells you what to do all day.

But Hotch isn't displeased with your rather impolite and abrupt entrance, staying silent as he peers over the blanket hood that Olivia has fashioned for herself. She's held against his chest, her clammy face tucked against his tie. His arms hold her tight and close, and he bounces her ever-so-slightly up and down as he soothes her whiny cries.

"Your mommy's here," He hums, craning his neck down to peer at her, and you're still partially frozen in shock at seeing Olivia cradled up in the arms of the man she runs from at dinner parties, "Would you like to see her?"

Olivia's responsive whine is less-than-clear, neither a yes nor a no. But you advance anyways, eyes surely showcasing your surprise at Hotch's sudden success with your daughter. Upon closer inspection, her tiny hand is gripping his tie tightly, the way that she holds the collar of your shirt when she doesn't want you to let her go. She's all bundled up and sniffling against his chest, surely feeling the symptoms of her cold that the medicine didn't cover.

"My poor baby," You lament, leaning down to kiss her forehead. It puts your face tantalizingly close to Hotch's own, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling some butterflies through your stomach at the sight of him bouncing your baby girl in his arms, "Will you come with me? We can go sit at mommy's desk, and you can go to sleep."

This time, you understand her response.

"No!" She whines, desperately burrowing further into Hotch's warm embrace, "I'm- tired!" She sobs, voice raw from crying, "I want to stay!"

Before you can figure out how to bargain her out of Aaron's arms and into your own he shushes her, leaning down to kiss her feverish temple like she's his own. The sight flips your stomach even further, and you're very glad Aaron can't read your mind at the moment.

"It's okay. You can stay here if you really want to. Are you sure?" He squeezes her to prompt a response, but the only one she gives is nodding her head and pressing her face into his tie.

"Hotch, I'm sorry-" You start, but he smiles kindly, warmly up at you.

"It's alright. I can keep her in here for a bit, if you want to get started for the day."

"But you've got work to do. And you might get sick," Your shoulders slump, because even though you're thrilled that Olivia has finally seemed to get over her Hotchnerphobia, you don't want to push your luck after being fifteen minutes late to retrieve your daughter that isn't supposed to be here in the first place.

"Easy paperwork," Hotch waves it off, smiling as Olivia readjusts her grip on his tie, "Just signatures, really. I've got time. Plus, if I'm gonna get sick, it'll probably be from Jack. He brings home germs from school all the time."

"That's their special talent," You muse, stroking a hand over Olivia's wispy hair, "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure, Y/N," Aaron nods, continuing to bounce her lightly in his arms with a fond grin while her eyes remain loosely shut, "I finally got her to like me - I'm not sure I'd be able to put her down if she did want to go with you."

[jellyfishsthings]

Spencer Reid Masterlist:

Guide: Smut ●, Angst ☆, Fluff <3

Kissing in the office <3 by @reidalert

Sleepy Needy Spence ● by @nereidprinc3ss

Work call during the act ● by @nevvdrinksteaa

Pregnancy Announcement (sort of) , vol.2 <3

by @pathologicalreid

"I'm not sleeping with Reid" ● by @incognit0slut

Headcannons <3 by @rafesgfs

Well-kept secret ☆ < 3 by @astrophileous

Work place environment by @nereidprinc3ss

Glasses <3, vol. 2 <3 , vol.3 ● by @luveline, @atlabeth and @raekensluver

Falling asleep on his shoulder, vol.2 <3

by @inkdrinkerworld and @bklynsboys

Please don't have somebody waiting for you <3

by @cerisereids

Being a menace, vol.2 <3 (tho it is suggestive kinda) by @in-another-april and @incognit0slut

Comforting him <3 by @little-miss-dilf-lover

Sleep Deprivation <3 by @faunalune

I love this too much ● by @reiderwriter

Sneaking around ● by @nereidprinc3ss

First Time ● by @luveline

Between the books ● by @reidmotif

Whiny and Spoiled ● by @nereidprinc3ss

Hyper Independent <3 by @inkdrinkerworld

New haircut <3 by @inkdrinkerworld

Waking up with kisses <3 by @secretlovezz

No vacancy <3 @kiss-inthekitchen

Reuniting after prison (Hotch!reader) ☆<3

by @pathologicalreid

Being a munch ● by @lis-likes-fics

Me while watching CM ● by @an1t4k

High Heels <3 by @guiltyasreid

Decoy ● by @violetrainbow412-blog

Tech analyst reader <3 by @moonstruckme

Mixed Messages (series) by @easy-there-leftovers

Addicted to you ● @spencerreidenjoyer

Drunk confessions <3 by @nereidprinc3ss

Proposals <3 by @reidmania

Plastic Hearts (Gideon!reader) ☆ by @atlabeth

I might be in love (Prentiss!reader)

by @januaryembrs

This hurts but in a good way ☆

by @aliteralsemicolon

Heavenly sweet ● by @reidsfilm

His hands, vol.2 ● by @raekensluver and @t1red-twillight

Coming home late <3 by @fairysongs

Soft Intimacy <3 by @t1red-twilight

Missed Lunches (Gideon!reader)☆

by @mindfullycriminal

Grounded (Hotch!reader) <3 by @rreids

His kisses <3 ● by @inkdrinkerworld

50 shades <3 by @rumplereids

Dad!Spence:

Paternity leave <3 by @radiant-reid

Mini Doctor <3 by @reidsdaisies

Hard to say no <3 by @radiant-reid

Lamby goes to work <3 by @cerisereids

Everything in the world <3 by @lis-likes-fics

Daddy's girl <3 by @midniteluv

Toddlerus Interruptus <3 by @reid-fiction

Midnight Scaries <3 by @reid-fiction

Early labor <3 by @rumplereids

Other Masterlists:

Masterlist 1 by @pathologicalreid

Masterlist 2 by @radiant-reid

Masterlist 3 by @slowburningechoes

Note: sorry some of the tags may not work my Tumblr is acting up, also a Spencer Reid fic should be posted sometime soon

[infictionalwonderland]

The BAU team meeting Hotch’s younger gf who looks like she walked off the front cover of a magazine & she’s so bubbly and has a really comforting energy! How would they react????

The satisfying little clicks of heels against the marble floor wasn’t enough to gain any of their attention usually, but accompanied by the delicately enchanting chimes of true laughter and sweet smell of baked goods—eyes were immediately lifting to investigate to the scene.

“Thank you so much!” An incredibly sweet, honeyed voice gushed genuinely, “here, all of these are meant for my boyfriend but I’m sure he won’t even notice.”

The team traded immensely interested looks as they surveyed the scene, Anderson (who was uncharacteristically blushing a bright flustered cherry red) was being handed a chocolate chip muffin by—wow—a startlingly gorgeous young women who was dressed in inviting soft colours and had a large sweet smile on her face that served to emphasise her lovely appearance.

“My day just got a hundred times better.” Derek grinned, swivelling his chair sideways to speak to the rest of his team while barely taking his eyes off you.

“You’re telling me.” Emily’s mouth hung open a little as she leaned forwards on her elbows to look at you more closely.

“Behave.” JJ scolded before her brief look of reprimand melted under Emily’s pointed stare, “she’s looks so sweet I just wanna eat her.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Spencer reminded them.

“What—?”

“Pretty boy—you and—“

“Oh—oh, no!” Spencer flustered, sputtering out the gulp of his coffee he had in his mouth (JJ handed him a napkin with a mothers readiness). “Not—I would be absolutely honoured—and—and, for lack of a sensical phrase, over the moon, to have a romantic relationship with a woman such as her but—no, unfortunately. She—she said a few moments ago that has a boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Emily blinked, a slow almost sheepish smirk on his lips, “I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, just watching her lips move.”

“Preach sister.” Derek leaned forward for a fist-bump which Emily easily gave, both of them nodding in solidarity.

“Hello!” They all startled heavily as your gentle, happy voice chimed now much closer to them and mouths dropped subtly at just how beautiful you looked up close.

“Well hello sweetheart.”

“H-hi.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“Hello!”

You blinked at them, an adorable giggle leaving you at the onslaught of greetings that came all at once. “Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where Aaron Hotchner’s office is would you?”

“Hotch?” Emily furrowed her brows at you curiously and then seemed to forgot about, well, any of anything she was thinking as your bubbly smile and sparkling eyes turned her way and you gave a cheerful ‘yep!’ “Um—just, up those stairs, the first door at the top.”

“Thank you very much.” You told her, voice as sweet as the packet of fizzy haribos hidden in her desk. “It was lovely meeting you all, we’ll probably be better acquainted later on.”

With a sparkly mischievous twinkle in your bright eyes and another adorable giggle, you took off in a small spin that sent the enchanting mix of your perfume and the baked goods wafting over to all of them and they all watched, entranced, as you climbed the steps to their boss’ office.

After several seconds of dazed silence, Spencer gasped.

“Boyfriend—“

“Yeah I wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend either.” Derek murmured. “At all—really, no sweat off my back.”

“Hotch.”

JJ’s mouth dropped open as she realised where Spencer was going with his train of thought, rolling back in her chair as they pointed at him in realisation.

“Oh my God!”

“Hotch—hotch, is her boyfriend..?” Spencer sounded extremely confused, mouth falling open and closing repeatedly.

“Huh?”

“Reid, you are having a giggle.”

“No, he’s right.” JJ confirmed, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “She said she was here to see her boyfriend and she’s gone to see Hotch. . 2 plus 2 equals. .”

“. . An incredibly brokenhearted Derek Morgan.” Derek’s own mouth dropped open, craning his neck to see what was going on in the office of his boss before realising that Hotch had shut the blinds. Derek gasped, that sneak.

“And a flummoxed Emily Prentiss.”

“But she’s so—“

“Yeah.”

“And he’s like—“

“Literally!”

“Well, the last few months Hotch has been incredibly more relaxed, in fact his percentage of smiles given has gone up from a measly 30% to almost 84%, his laugh quota has reached high yet levels than I’ve ever known it to be. I had also noted that every Thursday he never goes home as late as he usually retires for the day and with this new revelation of a relationship—I assume this correlates to their date nights.”

“It does.”

Everyone turned in their chairs quickly to face their boss who now stood outside his office a faintly amused smile curving up his lips, at his side was you and you were wearing an amused and loving smile, eyes practically sparkling after Spencer’s speech on your boyfriend’s behaviour as they flickered up to said boyfriend beside you who looked down at you with soft, fond eyes.

“So you figured out my secret.” You grinned at them all, taking in Spencer’s red cheeks and Emily’s flabbergasted, dazed stare. “I’m Y/N, Aaron’s girlfriend!”

“Doesn’t that just crush a man’s hopes and dreams.” Derek pouted quietly to himself, straightening up in alarm when his boss’ intense eyes zeroed in on him.

“Honey, this is JJ—“ The blonde gave a warm, welcoming smile and a wave, “Spencer,” said genius gave a tight lipped awkward smile, hands flailing awkwardly and cheeks a burning fiery red, feeling this pulse thump when they smiled back directly at him, “Emily and Derek.” Both of the aforementioned gave waves with half flirty-ish smirks and half genuine smiles.

The door to Rossi’s office opened and when he stepped out and saw you beside Aaron he smiled happily, walking towards you both.

“Ah, Y/N!” He took you into an embrace, kissing both of your cheeks. “You get more beautiful every time I see you, is this big brute treating you right?”

“Always, Dave.”

He patted you on the shoulders, smiling, before turning to Aaron who was rolling his eyes at him fondly.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Rossi!” Emily’s astounded voice exclaimed, “you—know Y/N—you knew about this—“

It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he continued walking to descend down the stairs, tutting at her disappointedly.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He countered, “who do you think encouraged him to go for it?”

You laughed at that and your boyfriend smiled down at you fondly, looping an arm around your waist—seemingly forgetting he was in his place of work and needed to keep up the facade of stone cold, emotionless boss.

“What—Rossi—get back here—“ Derek leaped up from his seat and trailed after the older man.

“What, you gonna come watch me take a leak?”

“If it means we get some answers!”

“Shoo parassita.”

All you could do was laugh again, smiling up at your boyfriend as his arm tightened around your waist and he pulled you closer into his side. You were very happy with your decision to come and deliver baked goods to him.

[reidluv3]

terffied , aaron hotchner

aaron hotchner x fem!reader <Reader gets scared >.

( word-count ) 1.5k

Hotch has been talking about getting jack all week , Jack is in Atlanta, Georgia with his mother, Hotch gets custody of Jack he leaves to get him this evening..

Waring none really just blurb in current events reader gets scared.

A/n .. I would love feedback an any likes reblogs are really appreciated it thank you

This is my official fic for Aaron Hotchner , This hits home pretty close right now they say write with your heart write about current events in your life I understand if this doesn’t get the attention I’m hoping for with love likes epic , but I’m stepping out of my comfort zone I love Hotch with all my heart an wanted someone to feel this . I don’t know anyways here we go .. so nervous right now

Thanks for allowing me to step out of my comfort zone .

💌My first official Hotch fic 💌

A/n I’m scared ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

“A Tropical Storm Warning as issued for the following states , Atlanta Georgia Florida Tennessee” , the list kept going , Hotch told the team he was gonna head on to get Jack , You were at home Hotch stops by to see you on his way out to get Jack , He calls you Hey I’m on my way over , Everything ok you say ya he says he’s voice a Little shaken , A knock at the door it’s Hotch , You open the door , You let him in . I know you say you’re heading out to get Jack , You run up to Hotch , He opens he’s arms to give you a hug , you too were not dating yet but he needed to see you before he left , he felt at ease with you . Jack will be happy to see you you tell Hotch as he turns to walk out the door , Hurry back you say safety we need you both home safe you say , I know Hotch says .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿⁀➷

Hotch takes the Jet to get , Jack . He should be up in the air by now you thinking.

You send Hotch a message.

💬.

It’s 2:35pm

“Let me know when you safely land .

You send the message.

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You hear Except Heavy high Dangerous winds , Heavy Rain In the next few hours The news , List of the states again , You mute the tv , Garcia calls You answer Hey you say softly, Hey love she says Everything ok you ask her .? As far as I know , I was Just checking on you , Were at the BAU if you wanna come down , Come to work on my day off you say softly ya she says it beats waiting to hear from Hotch all by your self she applies, Good point you say On my way you say ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿⁀➷

You check your phone for any messages no messages You sigh, you grab your stuff to head out to work , Garica had a good point you said cause not knowing if Hotch is ok is driving you nuts .

You head to the BAU , you stop to get Everyone’s favorite coffee on the way and you get some Croissants in donuts for everyone. Let’s face when you worry you stress eat .you have all kinds of emotions right now .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You get up to the FBI building, You head in you got everything in your hands , You get to the lobby in get to the elevator press the six floor to the BAU room , everyone is around the table , playing scrabble , Hey Love Em says hey I brought coffee it’s got each of your names on it , bright Croissants in donuts oh donuts Spencer says he grabs he’s coffee an a donut thanks bestie he says you giggle no problem Spence . You’re a life saver Garica said .

What we playing scrabble JJ says you wanna join , I’ll set this one out you say . Any word on Hotch Em says not yet you say Derek said he should be getting close since he took the jet . That’s what I thought you said , I told him to message me when he made it safely I’m nervous , What if the power lines got knocked down were he landed an he couldn’t let us know he made it ..

It’s 4pm

💬 message to Hotch .

Hey Just checking in , Did you make it in okay?

Derek hey baby girl I’m sure your man is fine , He smiles .

You surge Derek .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

It’s 5pm

You guys are watching the news the jet shoulda made it by now Derek and you say .. A Tornado Warning has been issued for the following, you say damn it they can’t catch a break ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

📞:Hotch …

Your 📞 : Ringsits Hotch

📞: Hey you say softly, it’s good to hear your voice he said , Are you ok you ask him , Ya were fine .. I miss you Hotch you say miss you to we’ll be home soon , it’s crazy over here the phone cuts in and out you lose the connection . “Damn it you say “. Hey at least we know he’s ok Spencer says .

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

You in the team decided to camp out at the office , until Hotch made it home safe . “Derek checks in on you , How you holding up , it’s almost 8pm you guys hadn’t heard anything from Hotch yet since at 5pm , “You should get some sleep Derek points out no You Say raising your head sleeps overrated I’ll sleep when he’s home .

You really care about him don’t you “Em asks you , yes don’t you yes we all do , but you me ,what you say . I think it’s deeper connection with you towards him , you’re into him “Em says , maybe you say but he’s not gonna see me that way , we just become very close you say , I’m not judging Em Says I was just curious I guess .

Garica they would be cute together , I agree Em in Spencer says I think they might be already together without realizing it Derek says . No we’re not you say , JJ come on guys stop teasing her .

10pm

You messaged Hotch

💬: Hotch

Hey , I hope you made it to Jack .

Just thinking about you, please stay safe . The team is at the office.

You in the team had passed out ..

Hotch comes in with Jack , he lays Jack on the couch ,

He heads over to your desk , Rubs your back, Hey Love I made it back home , Hotch you say softly where’s Jack over there on the couch asleep, you smile , you get up to give Hotch a big Hug … I’m so glad you made it home safely, He goes I told you I would ..

ೃ⁀➷🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿 ೃ⁀➷

I hope you enjoy this ..

@catssluvr

Love you guys

K 💌

[lillysdreaminnn]

Soft Aaron my beloved 🫶🏻

↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞

pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K

      Aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. He sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. He hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. He knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 

      “Honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” His voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 

      You turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 

      “No, babe, why d’you ask?” 

      “You’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on Ritalin yet lately.” His explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. His smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 

      Aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 

      “I haven’t told them about the engagement yet. I want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” You sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “Difficult.” 

      Aaron knows what difficult really means. It means patronizing. It means unsupportive. Unwilling. Unhelpful. It doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “We could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” He suggests, always the problem solver. 

      “It would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” Your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 

      Hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “And my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” You nod quietly. “Alright. Don’t call. Text her inviting them over with the details. Less talking.” 

      You groan, “She will complain about that too…”

      “Once they’re here.” He kisses your forehead, “So it’s only one,” and your nose, “Night,” your right cheek, “Of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “Complaining.” Aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.

      You get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiancé, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. His hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.

      He made it easier, always. Helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. It was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to Jack and see how it should be.

      More often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not Aaron.

      You talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to Jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: Jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something Aaron would let happen, he didn’t want Jack to go through what he had as a child.

      Then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 

      You try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on Aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.

      Your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 

      So first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, Aaron’s idea, of course. 

      “He always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” You mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and Aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.

      You can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “Even Rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. Just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” You snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.

      Gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.

      Hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.

      Most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey I love you right in his ear as if you were there.

      It pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… You.  

      Hotch excused himself from the call to talk to Rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get Rossi’s sauce recipe. 

      “Hers is great, why does she need mine?” Rossi sound almost exasperated, as if Hotch himself had said something about your cooking. He is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, Dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “Anything else?”

      “I need a favor as well. I’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” Hotch begins, he knows Rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the Bureau agreed he needed time off. “I know myself enough, I need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” He’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, Aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 

      His left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. It was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? In the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 

      You were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 

      That day he got home late, Jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next Friday off. 

      His office had become a shared office with your help, a U shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave Jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.

      The sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and Jack sat, focused, it gave Hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.

      “I’m not sure about that one, Jack-Jack…” You stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “If I Google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” Aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: Caught in the act. 

      “No Google, buddy, sorry.” Jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 

      “Told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—“ You tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.

      His smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on Aaron’s watch getting to Jack’s eyes, “I’m sleepy.” 

      “You can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 

      Hotch picks Jack up and the young Hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 

      “Enjoy while you can, Jack-Jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 

      “Yeah? I’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” You and Jack both laugh at him. It’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 

      It was warm. And kind. Even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. It was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 

      It takes a few minutes for Hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “I’m just finishing this up, babyy—” Your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “Go eat your dinner while I do it, I heated it up when I got your text!”

      He stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: Sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 

      Aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. He traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.

      “I love you. I love our little family.” He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can even tell him the two Hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.

      You don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. Aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.

      The second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, Aaron replies with a simple “If anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” A squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.

      They seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. You’re forgetful. You’re not maternal. You worry about work too much.

      You’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—Aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. He’s trying to be polite. “We take care of each other well, and together we care for Jack. It works. We work.”

      It’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.

      He wants to show them drawings Jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 

      But for now he settles on being polite. There’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. He has time to do all that. Right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 

      At least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.

      He snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.

[bau-drabbles]

asking aaron if he would still love you if you were a worm, i can imagine that man would be flabbergasted by the question😭

aww bless him lmfaoo 😭😭

he would be trying to complete a task when you asked the question and he wouldn't really register what you said until he's really thought your question through.

"aww honey of course i'd still... wait what?" he pauses and looks like you with the most dumbfounded flabbergasted expression you've ever seen him in. he wonders if he's heart you right but you have a dead serious look in your face.

"say one day i woke up and was suddenly a worm, would you still love me?" you ask again, looking at him

poor guy doesn't know if you're being serious or whether he's walked into a trap, he's just staring like 👁👄👁

"but honey, why would you suddenly change into a worm?" he asks cautiously, trying not to give the wrong answer but also very confused because he doesn't understand what you're trying to say

"we don't need to know the basics of that. would you still love me?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. this is the most important question to ask him after all, the utmost test of true love.

and when he doesn't answer, you lay back down, a wash of sadness enveloping you for no apparent reason. but as you pick up your phone you feel a weight right next to you. he's such a sweetheart, he doesn't understand the trend but he bundles you close in his arms anyway and gives you a reassuring hug.

"you know i'd still love you" he kisses your temple, giving you a little chuckle.

"even if i was a tiny wrinkly insect?" you chuckle and he smiles, giving your hips a tender squeeze

"you could be the most poisonous insect known to mankind, you'd always be my baby to me"

[street-smarts00]

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

[brattyspence]

u up? | s.reid

summary: early season!spencer is reluctant to request nudes from gn!reader while hes gone on a case. warnings & key info: nudes (what an ugly word), sexual themes implied, nothing rlly explicitly stated. a very reluctant and maybe insecure spencer, a hint of teasing  a/n: this is rlly just a drabble but i love the idea of early season!spencer who is kind of nervous to ask for things but also rlly down bad for reader! maybe i’ll make more with this pairing bc its so fun. word count: 1.5k my masterlist!

Spencer flopped back into the queen-sized bed with a sigh. The hotel room was small, the generic beige walls blending into the generic beige room. The only light source he had at present from was the warm, yellow light of the bedside lamp and the screen of his phone.

The team had successfully closed another case. The unsub was apprehended after a week-and-a-half long chase, but he didn’t feel any better.

The relief that followed long cases like this one was different. Of course the week had been long and tiring. He hadn’t exactly slept well between the late nights at the local precinct and the looming anxiety about finally catching the guy. When Hotch made the decision to fly out the following morning to allow the team to get some sleep, he wasn’t so thrilled. 

He had returned to his hotel room, showered off the day (and it’s germs) before attempting to get into bed, but something was amiss. 

Catching the unsub didn’t mean just another solved case, but it also meant coming home to you. Maybe it was selfish, sure. Still, he had looked forward to it all day, and the sudden change in plans threw him off. Here he was, on top of the scratchy maroon bedspread of the hotel, very awake and very much frustrated by the prospect of spending another night apart from you. 

Sexual frustration and Spencer were two things you never would have put together. He was the most patient man in the world to you. Sometimes you still consider it his biggest flaw. When you first began dating him, it took weeks for him to work up the nerve to kiss you first. Sex was another beast. Somehow he wasn’t comfortable initiating anything for fear that he was pressuring you, and it seemed that no amount of reassurance would encourage him to make the first move. 

You were half asleep in bed when you heard the buzz of a new notification. You lifted your head from its spot in the pillow, and patted your hand around to find your phone somewhere in the mess of sheets in your bed. When you found it, you squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright screen in the darkness of your room. He never liked to interrupt you when you were sleeping. It was another one of his obscure demonstrations of love. If you ever texted him past 9 PM, he would delve into a rant about how the blue light of your screen would keep you up all night, or how sleep deprivation could cause a multitude of issues, and “I just don’t want to be the reason you didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

Patient, kind, respectful, and painfully so. 

Which was why you were thoroughly confused when you received what could only be interpreted as a very Spencer Reid version of a ‘u up?’ text at 12:51 AM.

Spencer: Hi. I miss you. Are you awake? 

You: i am now :)  i miss you more. 

Spencer struggled to find the right words to type. He always relied on you dragging it out of him. He drafted a few responses, deleting them immediately. His fingers hovered the keyboard for a moment, contemplating if he should just let it go.

You watched the ellipses come and go as he typed. It disappeared for a few seconds, and then reappeared. Eventually, you decided to call him. 

He picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice was soft, maybe more so than usual. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I was hoping to hear your voice,” you replied.

“But it’s so late. You should be sleeping, and now-”

“Spencer,” you replied, cutting him off. “I don’t care about that. You’ve never been one to message so late, so I know something must be bothering you. Talk to me.”

You heard the soft rustle of fabric against the microphone. 

“I was just really looking forward to coming home tonight.”

You sighed. “I know. I was looking forward to it, too.”

“I just…” he trailed off. “I was thinking about you all day. Thinking about seeing you, thinking about… just thinking about you.”

“Hm.” You sandwiched the phone between your ear and shoulder before sitting up. The jersey sheets pooled around your waist as you leaned across your nightstand, flicking on the bedside lamp. Your room filled with the soft glow. “Thinking about me?”

“Yeah.” His voice was almost a whisper. “That’s all.”

“I don’t think that’s all, honey.” 

You could visualize his reaction through the phone, the same reaction he always had when you pinned down his real intentions. He probably made an attempt to roll his eyes and brush off your comments, but he’d blush seconds later and avoid eye contact, knowing you were right. 

“Why do you… say that?” Somehow his voice was even softer.

“It’s one in the morning, Spence. You never call this late,” you explain. “And you’ve been away for a whole 10 days.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed audibly. 

“Yeah,” you repeat. “So you clearly want something from me.”

Silence.

“Do I need to drag it out of you?”

He huffed.  “It feels really juvenile. And I just respect you so much, and I don’t want you to ever think that I’m using you for anything, or that I don’t value you-”

“Spencer. We talked about this.” 

“Right.” He sighed. He held the phone to his ear with one hand, the other pressing into his eyelids as he formulated a response. 

“So,” you clear your throat, and sit back into your pillows, your phone lying across your chest. “Ask me.”

“I don’t…” he exhales. He’s struggling to come to terms with the fact that you have him figured out so well. He’s quiet for a few seconds before he gives in reluctantly. “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. Not just talking.”

“Spencer Reid,” you reply, amused. Teasing him was just too easy sometimes, especially when he was so easy to rile up, even if he knew you were just joking with him. “Are you asking me for nudes?”

“I… It just sounds so wrong. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, come on. Just ask me.”

He groaned. “I don't want you to think that my love for you has anything to do with your body. You know that, right? Because it doesn't. Although I do love… looking at you. That sounded weird. I just mean that I don't want to put you in a position where you feel commodified based on something like your physical appearance when you have so much more to give, and it's not respectful of you. You're brilliant and kind and so, so good to me, and it’s just so vulgar, I think-”

He fell quiet as his phone buzzed in his hands. He could just see the preview of the text you had sent him. After changing the call to speakerphone, he opened it, scrolling through the carousel of photos, taking in the images.

“You think..?”

“Jesus Christ…” he breathed, opening a slideshow of photos you had taken just for him. Sent to him, for his personal use. He would have felt bad about it if he wasn’t so horribly entranced by the sight of them. Whatever was left of his rambling fizzled out.

“You're not gonna finish your sentence?” You asked.

“I…” swipe. “God, I don't remember what I was saying.”

You chuckled. “Does that fix your problem?”

He was clearly short circuiting. “Mhm. It does.”

“See what happens when you ask, Spencer?”

“I feel guilty,” he replied, his voice breathy and quiet. He was clearly having some kind of internal struggle about the ethicality of the situation. It didn’t bother him enough to look away, though.

“Why?” You ask. 

“Because… these are really…” He stopped. Although you couldn’t see it, his cheeks were burning red. “Are you sure you’re okay with me having these?”

“Spencer,” you say. “You’re being ridiculous. You’ve seen me naked plenty of times. I watched you fold and organize my sock drawer without my asking last week. You preheat my coffee mug for me every morning. I’m not just okay with you having these. I want you to have them.”

Oh. He swallows thickly, forcing himself to close the app and come back to his senses.

“But…” He trails off. He still sounds a little distant, pausing a bit too long between words, clearly still looking the photos over. “How did you… did you have these ready to send?”

“I did. I took them the other night. I was just waiting for you to ask.”

You wait a few seconds to see if he says something else. He doesn't. The line falls silent.

“Are you okay over there?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, exiting the app and putting his phone down on the pillow next to him. “Yeah. Sorry. I just… wow.”

You were used to his continual praise, but somehow his lack of words was the best compliment he could have offered you.

“Next time just ask, okay?”

He swallows. “Mhm. I will.”

“You should go have fun. I'm gonna go back to sleep. I'll see you soon, pretty boy.”

“Yeah… you should get some sleep. I’ll… see you tomorrow. Thank you.”

You smile to yourself. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends with Benefits

Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who joined us. I am so happy to share everyone’s hard work. If you have a oneshot or masterlist you’d like me to add, please send me a message - new additions are always welcome.

SFW S.R./Reader

Cuddle Buddies by @foxy-eva: (Fem) Spencer misinterprets the meaning of friends with benefits (having a friend to cuddle is, in fact, highly beneficial).

Play Dates by me: (GN) Reader learns Spencer hasn’t had many dates and offers to share several Play Dates.

Astraphobia by me: (Fem) Reader and Spencer share their embarrassing fears.

The Only Exception by me: (GN) Reader is beginning to believe in love again.

NSFW S.R./Fem!Reader (18+)

It’s Too Cliché by me: Reader and Spencer are the worst at being friends with benefits.

Damaged Goods by @foxy-eva: The belief that they were both undeserving of love led Spencer and Reader into each other's arms.

Yours by @aliteralsemicolon: Spencer never thought he’d be lucky enough to find Reader.

Heavenly by @dudeitiskarev: Reader confesses that she's a virgin, and she asks Spencer to be her first.

Wildest Dreams by @ghsface: It was a one night thing.

Crawling Back to You by @incognit0slut: Reader never planned on having a fling with her brother's friend.

A Kindness You Can't Afford by @mercy-burning: It started as 'stress relief between co-workers,' but now Reader can't help herself.

Relax, I've Got You by @reidmotif: Reader isn't great at handling stress. Luckily, Spencer knows how to make her feel better.

I'm Your Fluffer by @reiderwriter: Spencer is Reader's boyfriend without the benefits.

Second Chances & Something More by @reidsrambles: Reader is stunned when her former FWB shows up at her job nearly a decade after ghosting him.

Even more fics and pairs below!

I Won't Let You Forget by @reiderwriter: Reader wakes up with no memory of begging her long-time work crush to sleep with her.

Down Bad by @samuel-de-champagne-problems: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the sex.

Safe Place by @sinfulspencer: After a hard case, Spencer takes comfort in Reader's body. 

Casual by @waywardxrhea: Reader thought that her sexcapades with Spencer had meant more to him.

Goddess, Soft by @none-of-your-bullshit: Spencer gets jealous.

Lost Time by me: Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave on vacation. As "friends."

NSFW Other xReaders (18+)

Passionate Reunion by @badathumanemotions: (Emily/Fem) Reader's in town on business and takes the opportunity to reconnect.

Stepping into Desire by @badathumanemotions: (Emily/Fem) Emily decides to wear heels and a tight skirt to catch the attention of a certain co-worker.

Medicine at Midnight by @pkg4mumtown: (Hotch/GN) A night out with the team leads to either the best or worst mistake Reader could have made.

Sneaky Touch by @tjwritesfanfics: (Hotch/Fem) Hotch is only a man and maybe Reader should wait until they get home to tempt him.

After Hours by @badathumanemotions: (Emily/Fem/Spencer) The trio has an arrangement.

Down by the River by @tjwritesfanfics: (Joe Joe - RV) Reader knew they couldn't stay with him forever, but at least for one night they could pretend.

Character Pairings

Time for Talk by @vaguelyclevermatters: (Rated T, Demily) Emily was hungover after a night in Vegas but the team seems fine. She must've gotten up to something (or someone) the others didn't.

Now or Never [Ao3] by @masterwords: (unrated, Hotchgan) An exploration of Hotch's agreement with Derek during his divorce.

Untitled by @siyvaruli: (Hotchgan) Derek discusses his situation with his sisters.

Just a Booty Call by @the-queen-and-the-king: (NSFW, Hotchniss) What was Emily supposed to do when she and her boss suddenly break every rule during an investigation?

Harder to Hide [Ao3] by @vampireids: (NSFW, Spencelle) After dying in Georgia, Spencer visits Elle to tell her he finally understands.

Gold in the Summertime [Ao3] by @justjasper: (NSFW, Derek/Elle/Spencer) Instead of the Fisher King, the BAU gets their two weeks vacation, and Reid goes to Jamaica with Elle and Morgan.

Until I See You Again [Ao3] by @leahseclipse: (Moreid) Spencer and Morgan had an arrangement, but it all changes when Spencer's feelings start to grow.

What's Wrong with Being Confident? by @baubeautyandthegeek: (Blake/Strauss) JJ wonders. Spencer answers.

Only Bought this Dress So You Can Take it Off by @baubeautyandthegeek: (Elle/Ilsa) The two share a night together.

Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed your fic or you have a new one to add, feel free to send me a message. I would love to add it!

[cuddleprofiler]

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."

[gghostwriter]

Out of Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.

He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.

The number you dialed is either unattended—

“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—

The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.

A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.

When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.

Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.

He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.

The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.

He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.

“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”

Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.

“It’s 7:50, love.”

You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”

Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.

“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”

The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”

“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”

You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.

He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”

Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”

His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.

“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”

“No. Never,” you sniffled.

“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”

The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.

Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.

For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.

“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!