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cuddleprofiler · 2 months ago

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

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

Fandom: Criminal Minds

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

Genre: Fluff

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

Word Count: 3.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"L/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And why is that, sweet girl?"

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

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

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

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

Morgan's expression changed instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They both laughed and high-fived.

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

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

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

"Guys!" you groaned as they laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, yeah. Just slipped."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"L/N, can you tell me about the—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next thing you knew, everything went black.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wha-what happened?"

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

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

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

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

"You have a fever."

"I do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not joking," you huffed.

"Neither are we," Morgan said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know, Hotch?"

"Yes?"

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

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

“Yea?”

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

"Oh, am I?"

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

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

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

Hotch's smile grew with each word you spoke.

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

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

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

He frowned at your words.

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

You squealed with delight.

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

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

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

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

"I only had one."

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

'You can become the second.'

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?"

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

"Oh, but I—you just called me—"

"What?"

"Never mind. I must be imagining it."

"Yes, you're definitely imagining things."

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ssahotchnerr · 7 months ago

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a bit late but i have a request for protective aaron 😓😓 reader and hotch having a date night and they run into someone who claims to be from the fbi like that one guy who prentiss garcia and jj came across?? maybe they play along for while? i love ur writing btw 💕💕 and congrats on 5k!!

brad's back

let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for ages, and what if it is the same guy they came across 🤭 cw; jealous!aaron, bau fem!reader, bar setting, light drinking mentions, suggestiveness, brad LOL wc; 1.2k

Saturday night. Date night.

Aaron and yourself had already finished dinner, and had stopped at a nearby bar for a drink or two before heading home. Jack was at Jessica's for the night, having fun of his own at a sleepover with his cousins.

That meant a wonderfully empty apartment was waiting for you, and all of its advantages.

You were giddy with impatience, eager to head out. As you waited for Aaron to return - he had run to the men's room - out of your peripheral you sensed someone lingering, just a few feet away from where you were sat.

You turned your head, subtly brushing your fingers through your hair so your glance didn't seem purposeful. It was a man in a suit, hair swept cleanly, looking greatly out of place in the casualness of the bar.

But your discreet attempt at observing did go noticed; the man took it as a plausible excuse to approach you.

"You should be careful."

Your eyebrows quirked quizzically, evaluating whether or not his statement was a threat or hopeful flirting. "How so?"

"Saturday night. It's getting late. We're in a high crime area."

You widened your eyes in feigned surprise, "Are we?"

No, you were not.

You quickly deemed him harmless, for now. And while you waited, why not play into it; he obviously had some story going, without a doubt a highly entertaining one at that. Not only, with Aaron due back in a few short minutes, you wouldn't mind seeing his protective side in the slightest.

"But lucky for you, I'm around. I just so happen to be a part of the FBI."

"Really." Your chin pointed downwards, not wasting a second to rack through your brain. He didn't look familiar, and you were quite good at remembering faces. You definitely hadn't come across this man before in practice.

When nothing unveiled, "I didn't catch your name."

"Brad."

Holy shit. You've heard the infamous Brad story from the girls, numerous times, and this had to be him. It had to; he was just as they described: vain, a bit gawky. You quickly stifled the laugh that wanted to burst through your chest. It's been months since, and evidently he was still using the same pickup.

"Brad the FBI agent." You nodded slowly, toying with your drink, fingers on the rim. "That's quite the title. What department are you in?"

"That's classified," he answered, leaning against the counter on an elbow. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"I see..."

Your eyes shot to the side as Aaron approached, landing on him just in time to see him stop in his tracks. As expected, a scowl deepened on his face as he saw Brad talking to you, also taking notice of his close, flirtatious proximity. His feet began moving once again, more urgency in his step.

"You must know Aaron then." You gushed, grabbing onto Aaron's arm and drawing him close as soon as he was in reach, and before he could ruthlessly interrogate Brad. Aaron lightly stumbled in surprise at the sudden pull.

Brad blanched, "I, urm-"

"Aaron," you grinned, "this is Brad."

Aaron shot you a look, one that read: 'And why the hell would I care?' but as he gave you said look, he immediately eyed the mischievous, fiery glint in your eyes. You were up to something.

The tension lessened in Aaron (barely), offering a rather stiff, "Hello."

"Brad," you turned, your hand clutching onto Aaron's bicep, your thumb grazing it calmly. "Aaron's in the FBI too."

Aaron's shoulders relaxed, probably coming to the same realization; he's heard the story also, as Penelope all but sprinted into the bullpen to share the hilarious encounter.

"No, I don't believe we have met." He activated his Hotch Stare, "What department are you-"

"Oh, he can't say. Classified." You interrupted, lips developing into a pout. "Strange, isn't it?"

While Aaron's notorious expression was enough to make Brad squirm, he also put an arm around you, keeping you close. Very close, your shoulder was practically digging into his chest.

Brad forced a laugh, his voice painfully strained. "Actually, it's uh... the big one. In DC."

"The big one." Aaron deadpanned, his brows furrowing more into a hardened line above his eyes. "You mean the J. Edgar Hoover Building?"

"Yes sir, that one." He rushed out, his gaze darting to the side. Probably looking for a quick escape.

"And your speciality?"

A dreadfully, humorously weak answer, "Crime."

"Crime." Aaron repeated, with an undertone of idiot.

"Modern day hero, clearly." You inputted. Aaron's lips twitched, holding back a smile.

"Your Superior is?"

"Superior... you see, I really can't stay. My boss wouldn't be too happy with me giving out the details."

"And you are aware that impersonation can be charged as a criminal offense," Aaron laid it on thick, his tone nothing less than strictly authoritative. "Aren't you?"

Brad opened his mouth to respond. Much to his avail, only silence came out.

"If I were you, I would try to find a better use of your time than using a forged title to pick up women. Perhaps being yourself may work? Although, I believe that needs extensive work as well."

Humiliation glassed over Brad's eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned on his heel, retreating.

"One more thing."

Your heart skipped a beat. From Aaron's tone of voice, the protectiveness you had anticipated - deep emphasis was about to come to the surface.

"I'm not the only one in the FBI." He spoke with pride in his chest, cocking his head towards you. Aaron's lips also quipped into a smile, whereas a smug look was on your face. "She's more than capable to take care of herself. And if for some reason she couldn't, that's where I come in."

Brad merely stood there, helplessly. From the irritation present on his face, he was completely over it.

"Have a good night."

"That was something, wasn't it?" You stated humorously once Brad was out of earshot.

Aaron snorted a laugh into his drink. "I'll say."

"I wonder how often it's worked." You thought aloud, feeling for those who had unknowingly fallen for it.

"Not enough if he's still using it as a ruse."

"It's kinda sad." While it was well deserved, long overdue and hopefully ceased any future endeavors of his, you still couldn't help but feel bad. Partially bad.

"It is, but he doesn't deserve your pity sweetheart." Aaron's hand fell atop yours, giving your knuckles a gentle pat. "Ready to head out?"

You nodded yes, "I've been ready."

After tossing some bills on the counter, Aaron properly grabbed your hand this time. The two of you headed for the exit, Aaron's hold on your hand tightening - to not lose you amidst the crowd, or for anyone else to make a pass at you.

"Is this the part where I say I can show you what a real FBI agent can do?" Aaron teased, a delightful little smirk on his face as he opened the door.

You laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. And benefits me."

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pathologicalreid · 9 months ago

Note

Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)

no sign of danger | S.R.

when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!

The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.

So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”

Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”

You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.

Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”

“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.

There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.

Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”

Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.

As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”

You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.

Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.

“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.

You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.

Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.

Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.

Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.

As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.

“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.

Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.

The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”

You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”

While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.

“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”

Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.

“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.

Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“

“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”

Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”

Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”

“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.

You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”

“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.

Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.

The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.

You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.

“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“

“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.

Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”

Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.

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#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #margot's asks #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds angst

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benevolentbones · 5 months ago

Note

Hi ✨️✨️

Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.

your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader

warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3

half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.

emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.

“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.

“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.

“reid, you in?”

spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.

“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.

“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.

“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.

“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.

“but-“

“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”

spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.

“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.

“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.

emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.

“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.

everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.

“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.

she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”

“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.

“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.

spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.

“y/n!”

you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.

“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.

“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.

“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.

“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.

“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.

derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.

“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.

“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.

you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.

“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.

“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.

“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.

emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.

“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.

“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.

“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”

“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.

you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.

“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.

“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.

you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.

spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.

he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.

finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.

“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.

he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.

“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.

“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.

“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.

“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.

“a-and do you like being a bartender?”

you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.

“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.

“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.

“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.

“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.

“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.

you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”

“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.

your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.

“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.

“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.

you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.

“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.

you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.

“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.

“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.

your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.

“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.

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#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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kisses4reid · 6 months ago

Text

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

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mydear-corinthian · 3 months ago

Text

not you, please

synopsis - wherein the reader was kidnapped by the unsub that hotch and the team were investigating.

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader / aaron hotchner x wife!reader

warnings - ANGST w/ comfort, reader being kidnapped and tortured, blood, typical criminal minds talk/content, use of aaron and hotch separately

notes - a tad long (w.c <2300), gif & picture isn't mine, divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

main masterlist | criminal minds masterlist

"Where is she?" Hotch's deep and frustrating voice echoed throughout the interrogation room. He was alone, wanting to talk to the now-caught criminal, wanting the offender to know your whereabouts.

It's been two days since you went missing. You were just doing your usual grocery for the week not until you went to the parking lot and you felt a damped cloth covering your mouth and nose. You accidentally inhale the chemicals on it making your muscles and bones tired, and your eyes shut down completely.

When you woke up, you felt a cold metallic wrap-feeling around your wrists. Your hands were hung up while you stood; your body felt weaker than ever. As you looked down on your body, bruises and fresh scars painted all over your stomach and legs. You want to cry. Cry for the pain. Cry because you know that you won't be able to see your husband again.

Hotch came home after a long tiring work. He gently hung his suit coat on the rack as he called your name. Once he did, Hotch didn't hear an answer. He thought that you were asleep since it was already midnight. Hotch went upstairs to your shared room and knocked softly before entering. His eyes widened at the sight: the bed was empty. Hotch quickly ran downstairs, searching every room there is inside the house. Hell, he even checked the backyard.

You weren't there.

Hotch immediately grabbed his phone, dialing your number. Unfortunately, it went directly to voicemail making his heart drop.

Hi, this is (Y/n)! I'm afraid I cannot be on the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll reply as soon as I can.

Your voice helped him a bit but it's the fact that it's just a voicemail. He cannot help but think where were you?

That's when he remembered.

Earlier in his shift, he recalled how the team got a new case. Four women were tortured and murdered with the same hair and eye color as yours.

"No, that's not possible.." Not you, please.." he thought to himself.

Hotch grabbed his car keys and drove to the BAU office right away. When he entered the office, he ran immediately and went inside the elevator. Hotch called everyone: Reid, Garcia, Morgan, J.J, Prentiss, and Rossi.

"I need you all to be here. It's an emergency." Hotch stated and dropped the call after.

After five minutes, everyone was in the conference room, standing up and looking at Hotch.

"What happened?" Morgan was the first to ask.

"(Y/n) was abducted. I suspect this morning." Hotch replied, trying to keep his composure. He may appear normal or he's showing no feelings at all but deep down, his mind is punching him with all the possibilities on where are you and what happened. Are you okay? Do you have any injuries? Or worse, are you still alive?

He knows that people who go missing die within the first 24 hours since they went missing. For the first time, Hotch disregard the statistics. He won't accept any of it.

"I am sure it has to do with the case we had this morning. (Y/n) has the same characteristics as the victims. (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c)." Hotch added.

"Oh my god.." Garcia commented, covering her mouth in shock.

"We'll help you, Hotch," J.J. said, her eyes showing a trickle of sadness.

Everyone in the BAU loved you. They were shocked knowing that both of you were dating despite your different personalities. Whenever there was a tough case, you would give them homemade cookies— especially Emily since you know how much she loves them— and you usually wait for Aaron to finish his paperworks in his office and you chat with Spencer. Listening to all the statistics and facts that he gives. You were the one who helped J.J. during her pregnancy, you gifted her how many boxes of diapers and other baby items during her bridal shower. You learned how to make Italian dishes with Rossi and Aaron loved every single dish of them. Derek and Penelope kept on asking for dating tips and even going out and parties with them. For them, you're a part of the BAU now. You're their family.

"I'll trace her phone. To see where her last location was." Garcia immediately started, leaving the room, and went to her computer lair.

"I'll talk to the neighbors to see if they saw her." Emily and Derek said.

"I'll go and try to mark a location up," Spencer said, standing up and going to the other room.

Rossi walked towards the scared and worried Hotch, patting him on the back, "We'll find her, Aaron."

"Look who's awake! Took you long enough," the unsub laughed, there was a small knife in his hand.

"Let me go!" you panted, your arms wiggling against the cold and handcuffs. Tears were starting to form in your eyes.

The unsub was getting closer to you until you felt his hot breath on your neck, whispering things that you wish you could not hear. With all of your strength, you kicked his stomach making him tumble backward.

"You're a fighter, aren't you?" he laughed.

His knife trailed down to your thighs, caressing it before stabbing you. You let out a scream as you felt it pinch to your skin.

"Please— stop!" you begged.

"You know, the last person who was there in your place died," he said. "If you don't want to end up like her then behave!"

You didn't protest, you want to live. Your mouth let out a series of whimpers and sobs. The unsub laughed, showing no remorse or guilt for what he had just done he enjoyed it.

Another man came inside whatever room you were in. He wasn't in shape, unlike the man who tortured you. There you know what is happening.

Two unsubs.

One is highly intelligent; the one who plans all the murders. The other one is physically strong but has no brains. The stronger man works for the other guy.

You learned it from your husband. You let him debrief heavy cases and also Aaron gives you some tips and tricks whenever you're in a dangerous situation— which he hopes won't happen but it's better to be cautious and be prepared.

"Good job finding her, Eric. I'll go somewhere to buy more tools for this lady over here." the smarter unsub said.

Eric nodded in response, facing back to you as he smiled diabolically with a small cutter in his hands.

When his duo left, all you felt was pain when the cutter went back again to your skin, cutting you slowly. Your vision started to get woozy. You lost your balance before your whole vision started going back.

It's finally been 24 hours since you went missing.

Aaron was mentally and emotionally dissolved. He and the whole team were in the conference room, looking at Garcia on the small screen of the laptop, hoping to get an address or a name.

Please, Garcia.. Please

"I got an address!" Penelope shouted, making everyone including Aaron stand up.

"Where?" Aaron asked immediately, his foot tapping anxiously.

"So, I searched stores who had customers previously bought knives, ropes, cutters, and all those horrifying items," she responded. Aaron's heart sank when she mentioned those items. Torture items. "—There were a lot of people who bought it—welcome to America— but this is what I suspiciously found. I reviewed this store's CCTV footage and I kept on seeing the same man coming inside the store twice a week for almost a month who brought the same items: rope, butcher's knives, small cutters, staplers, shovels, and some.. handcuffs... What's weird is that he doesn't look like the person who is physically fit to do gardening, carpentry, digging stuff and all."

"Can you identify the man, baby girl?"

"I already did. The name is Fred Silverstone. He's 5'7 tall, white, he owns a grey Adventure pickup. He's still inside the store! The address is Building 2 Kennedy Store just by Palm Street."

As soon as the team received the address, all of them went to their SUVs and drove. Derek and Rossi were with Aaron. He wanted to drive but Rossi was faster than him. Rossi began to drive at a fast speed, trying to catch the possible unsub and you in time.

Once they arrived, Aaron didn't hesitate to run inside the store with a gun in his hand and a bulletproof vest on his chest to protect him.

"John Silverstone, freeze!" Aaron yelled, pointing his gun at him when he finally saw John about to leave the store with a cart full of torture items.

"Raise your hands where I can see them!"

John raised his hands in defeat. Derek grabbed his handcuffs behind his belt and stated the Miranda Rights with anger.

Hotch didn't waste his time to interrogate John. He tried screaming at him. Yell at him. Yet John didn't say a word to where are your whereabouts. Unfortunately, the man didn't speak for almost 16 hours. He was quiet. He was smart.

"Oh, you're not talking? Then let's talk about your wife. She's the stressor, right? You kidnap women with the same features as your wife because she left you. And when she tried to leave you, you killed her? Isn't that right?"

"Shut up!" John yelled. "You know, Agent.. your wife.. she's pretty." the sound of your name being mentioned lit up flames to his whole body. Jesus, he wants to punch that man right now.

"You know what I did to my wife? I strangled her before slowly but satisfactorily cutting her from head to toe in that fucking basement of her home. Who knows! Your wife will be like that in a few minutes." he laughed manically.

Hotch's anger rose even higher. A lump in his throat was starting to form. When the unsub finally gave a clue to your location, Garcia searched the house of John's ex-wife and sent the location immediately.

"You're gonna rot in prison, Silverstone." Hotch lowly said before leaving the room.

The team went to their respective SUVs, driving immediately. Hotch's mind was killing him—all the thoughts of you being wounded, in pain, or even seeing your lifeless body.

As soon as the team arrived, Hotch ordered everyone. Prentiss was on his left while Morgan was on his right. Morgan kicked the door harshly as the three ran towards the basement.

Once you heard footsteps and Aaron's voice, your body relaxed a little.

He's here now.

But before you could shout his name out, your body was grabbed by the remaining unsub. He locked your head with his forearm while he placed a small knife near your neck. You can feel how cold the knife was.

"FBI! Nicholas, put the knife down." Aaron said.

Aaron looked at you with fear and anxiety, all he needed was for you to come back to him safely.

"No! This is for John! I-I will make John proud by killing her without his help!" Nicholas shouted.

Prentiss was too impatient so she triggered the gun, the bullet hitting the unsub's forehead directly. His body fell, blood pooling down his head.

Your legs gave up once you were now away from his grasp. Your face was pale. You were dehydrated so much. Your injuries look severe. There was a lot of dried blood on your body while some fresh scars were seen on your thighs and stomach.

Aaron ran towards you instantly. He gently grabbed your upper body, scanning for more injuries. Tears were starting to form again in your eyes as you felt his safe touch once again.

"It's okay, honey.. I'm here. You'll be alright. Just stay awake for me, okay?" Aaron caressed your hair while looking at you with his adorable eyes. He may seem still professional but his eyes were starting to water and his voice quivered.

Unfortunately, you were too weak to speak. You only answered him with a nod.

"I need an ambulance now," Morgan called.

You looked at your husband once again. Oh, he looks good. You hate seeing him anxious or sad. How you wish you had the energy to stroke his cheek. But despite that, you felt your energy decrease. Your body starts to feel cold and your head feels light. When you looked at Aaron again, your eyesight was getting blurry. Everything felt light.

"No no, (Y/n) stay awake, please. The ambulance is coming— What is taking them so long!"

You tried. Oh, you tried to stay awake but unfortunately, darkness filled you.

Aaron was outside the operating room for almost 5 hours now. The team left a few hours ago, leaving him alone. He glances at his wristwatch every minute, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for the doctor to tell him his condition. He finally cried. Tears were now falling how his face, imagining the worse responses once the doctor comes out of the operating room.

The door suddenly opened. A doctor exited the operating room, their scrubs were stained with some blood.

"For (Y/n) Hotchner?"

Aaron stood up immediately as he heard your name.

"She'll be fine," the doctor announced, a sigh of relief washing out on his body. "But she lost a lot of blood and was severely dehydrated. She's lucky to be alive. She will wake up in a few hours, Mr. Hotchner. You may visit her once the nurses will transfer her to a private room within the hour."

"Thank you, Doctor— Oh God— Thank you."

When you woke up, you were met by this bright light. You adjusted your eyes for a bit before opening them fully. You shifted your eyes to your legs and saw your husband sleeping rather uncomfortably. You called out his name softly, hoping that he'd wake up despite how quiet your voice was.

Aaron woke up and then looked at you. For the first time in 2 days, a smile was printed on his face.

"You're awake, " he said gently, standing up and kissing your forehead, stroking your hair with his fingers. "I thought I had lost you."

"I'm okay now, Aaron. I'm safe and you're with me," you reassured him, interlocking your fingers with his.

"I'm so sorry it took us time to find you."

"It's okay, Aaron. It's not your fault."

"I love you, (Y/n) Hotchner."

"I love you too, Aaron Hotchner." you smiled at him, kissing him back when his lips touched yours.

"Now give me some water; I'm thirsty," you said.

#x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch angst #aaron hotch x reader #thomas gibson

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC.

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future.

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field.

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe).

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.”

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all.

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat.

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab.

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?”

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly.

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder.

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes.

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things.

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused.

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen.

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general.

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies.

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face.

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day.

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way.

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips. When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping his bag a little tighter to him.

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.”

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?”

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away.

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk.

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.”

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent.

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable.

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional.

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence.

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading.

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time.

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.” He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him.

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply.

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away.

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could.

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond.

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?”

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space.

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen.

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you.

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office.

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt.

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat.

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same.

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer.

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.”

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line?

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you.

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move.

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before.

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face.

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again.

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist, and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now.

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat.

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed.

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?”

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind.

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day.

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?” You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him.

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands. Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands.

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night.

-X-

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #Criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal minds fic #Spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #Spencer reid x oc #Spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #Criminal minds smut #maturereiding

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venusbyline · 2 months ago

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Taste ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 03, oct.

— pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fiancée!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: lactation

— summary: Hotch never felt horny seeing a woman breastfeeding. Until he watched his fiancée doing it.

— word count: 2.9k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 3rd day, female!reader, fiance!Hotch, lactation kink, breastfeeding, breast worship, fingering, light overstimulation, mention of Haley's death, Jack has a little sister, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a

— crossposting: AO3

Hotch swore to himself that he wouldn't get involved with anyone else after Haley's death. He promised for Jack's sake and his ex-wife's memory, he would try his best to stay away from any woman who could mean more to him than just a few nights of sex or random drinks at a bar. He swore he wouldn't love anyone again, much less allow himself to remarry.

That's until you came into his life.

The damn day he saw you at the hospital after one of his teammates was grazed by a bullet. You were working your shift as a nurse and seemed almost shocked by the number of BAU agents in just one room. But your eyes didn't take long to focus on him. Eye contact only lasted a few seconds until Reid interrupted the magical moment by asking you about the coffee machine not working properly.

Hotch looked straight into your eyes long enough to realize he was fucked up and all his promises were going to go down the drain.

It didn't take long until the simple memory to invade Hotch's mind frequently and he was convinced to find out more about you, profiling you. Prentiss and Reid said he was starting to obsess, JJ thought it was cute, and Garcia and Morgan made fun of him like he was womanizer. Deep down, everyone was also excited but wary by the idea of Hotch being interested in another woman after Haley's murder. This could be good for him and also traumatize him even more.

When Hotch started visiting a pub that you and your co-workers went to often after work, he tried to maintain an indifferent attitude every time he saw you, trying to convince himself that you two would just flirt and maybe fuck. Nothing more than that, something random and insignificant.

However, during a day when he was reflecting on his life, sitting at one of the empty tables and drinking whiskey, Hotch was surprised to see you sit down with him, without even being invited. A sweet smile on your face as you began to strike up a conversation, even though he was clearly perplexed by the fact that you had already noticed his interest in you — no matter how obvious it was to anyone who saw him always watching you.

Two years later, Hotch still had difficulty admitting how much he loved you, feeling like it could be a weakness to him and a danger to Jack, you and his new child. The baby named after the protagonist of The Silence of the Lambs.

"Jack told me that Clarice was crying a lot today..." He said as soon as he came your room after putting Jack to bed, admiring you sitting on the double bed with some pillows behind your back, cradling the little thing in your hands while you breastfed her at the same time.

"Oh, it was just colic." You gave him a soft smile. "But she's better for now. Jack's such a good big brother to Clarice, he helps me a lot to take care of her."

Hotch smiled slightly, knowing how much his oldest son was enjoying having a little sister. Jack was such a sweet boy that sometimes he found himself wondering if he really deserved to be his father.

Jack was an incredible son with an incredible mother. And now Hotch also had an amazing little daughter and an amazing fiancée. With each passing day, insecurities and fears hit his mind hard to the point that he even became lost in thoughts during his own work at the BAU. "What's wrong, Hotch?"

Your question caught him off guard and he clenched his jaw. You could still read him as well as the first time you spoke to him in the pub. "Nothing's wrong."

You rolled your eyes, cradling Clarice a little more slowly now that she seemed to be starting to sleep. "Oh, please. I know you very well at that. It's pretty clear from your frown that you're worried about something." You teased him and it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Just tell me. Keeping everything to yourself will make you explode someday."

Hotch huffed, always hating the idea of opening himself up to anyone, even if you were his fiancée. On the one hand, he wanted to keep you in the dark about the vulnerability he was trying to hide, protecting himself from any judgment or see a look of pity on your face. But on the other hand, he just wanted to not pretend to be strong and invincible for at least a few minutes.

"I'm just thinking about some things, that's all..." He swallowed, the trembling voice exposing him more than his words.

You frowned, caressing Clarice's thinning hair before looking at Hotch. "Well... I'd like you to tell me at least one of them."

Hotch snorted again, but the attempt at indifference failed miserably when he looked at Clarice, still feeding on your breast. "She's looking more like you every day." He smiled, articulating his right index finger so he could caress her chubby cheek with his middle knuckles.

You smiled at Hotch, before raising an eyebrow when you noticed his gaze straying to your breast for a considerably long time. "That's very disrespectful, you know? I can't even breastfeed my own baby without you being a pervert?"

His eyes widened, immediately stopping and looking at you embarrassed to explain, sighing with a little frustration when he noticed that you were just playing with him. "Damn, angel..." He rubbed his face to hide his frightened expression, but also to distract himself from that unusual thoughts. "For a second I thought you were angry."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Why would I be angry seeing my fiance horny?"

Your teasing made his face turn red and his cock started to feel tight in his work pants. "I'm not...I'm not horny. This is ridiculous. You're just breastfeeding."

His effort to look uninterested by the sight made you laugh again, as you looked at him with your eyebrow still raised. After a few seconds, you checked if the baby was already sleeping enough so you could burp her and go put her in the crib. Then you fixed your nursing bra and turned to Hotch with a playful smirk. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Your words weren't a random joke, much less a common warning. You were flirting with him, teasing him, warning him that the matter wasn't over and you would come back to learn more about that curiosity that was burning his brain. He watched you leave with Clarice in your arms and go to her room.

Hotch sat down on the bed, the tie starting to tighten around his neck just as his cock was already hurting from being trapped in those damn underwear. He untied the bow with a little more agony than usual, taking a deep breath as he threw the fabric anywhere on the floor. He wasn't worried about organization for now, focused on trying to understand why he was suddenly so turned on.

Okay... He had seen your breast, something he clearly loved to admire at any time possible. But he never got horny seeing you breastfeeding his daughter. Just as he never got horny when Haley was breastfeeding Jack too. In truth, Hotch had never thought of breastfeeding as something rousing and erotic to watch.

Until those few minutes before.

"There... She's sleeping like a little angel." Hotch almost jumped at the sound of your sweet voice returning to the room, locking the door behind you.

Hotch cleared his throat, pretending not to know exactly why you locked the door. It was a rule not to lock the door at night for the children's safety in case something horrible happened. You only did this when both of you wanted a moment alone. "Well, it took you less than ten minutes."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "She went back to sleep quickly."

He nodded silently, placing his hand in his own lap so you wouldn't see his boner growing more and more, even though he knew you had already noticed it since you returned to the room.

"Lactation kink is more common than it seems." You said and Hotch almost choked due your blunt way.

"What? Where did you get that from? I don't... I don't have a lactation kink. That doesn't even make sense." He exclaimed, his frowning face turning red for a second time as he tried to press down on his boner to hide yet another twinge he felt.

You held back your chuckle, but not for long. The moment you sat on the bed next to him and watched how the grumpy man was struggling to hide his desire, you let out a brief giggle, but it was enough to hurt his ego. "That's not funny."

Despite everything, you nodded, not wanting to upset him further. The realization that perhaps this was the first time he could be feeling that specific kind of desire hit you hard, and you felt a mixture of pride with yourself, but also a huge excitement that you hadn't felt since the pregnancy.

"I know, baby..." You reassured him, smiling slightly at him now. "But you don't need to hide from me either. We agree not to keep secrets from each other."

Your sentence had more than one meaning and Hotch knew it. He shouldn't lie to you, either about his own fears or about what he was wanting at that moment.

Hotch took a deep breath, deciding to start slowly. "Maybe... Maybe I'm horny."

"Seeing me breastfeeding?" You asked to be sure, but without any hint of judgment.

He nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked away, before holding his breath when he felt your hand caressing his thigh through his dress pants. "Hey... Look at me, Aaron."

Almost a minute passed before he worked up enough courage to look into your eyes. He felt pathetic inside. How could he deal with criminals every day, but not be able to receive a touch on his thigh from you without feeling like a stupid teenage virgin?

"Do you wanna... Taste it?" Your suggestion made his dark eyes widen as if you were saying the most unexpected thing he'd ever heard. "I'm serious, Aaron."

"Taste your milk?" He frowned. However, you knew he wasn't offended, but rather embarrassed with himself for even considering that. Everything was driving him crazy... the memory of you breastfeeding, his vivid imagination, your hand remaining caressing his thigh. Aaron felt like he was going to explode. "Hmm... Maybe."

You smiled when he gave in a little, knowing that his lust was speaking louder than any self-loathing he was feeling. Without waiting for him to think better and maybe change his mind, you adjusted your body on the bed, leaning your back against the headboard, while your legs were stretched out and comfortable. You smirked, pointing to the other pillow, indicating to him to get comfortable too.

Your command made his cock throb. As he obeyed, lying down in place, he felt a sigh of pleasure escape when he realized how much closer your bust was to his face in that position.

"It's a good view..." He muttered, fighting his pride.

You bit your bottom lip. "Oh, really?" You took your hands to your bra, removing it completely and watching Hotch's breathing hitch. "And now?"

"Angel... You're such a tease." He watched your breast for a few minutes, feeling his mouth water with the uncontrollable need to taste you like that. He moved his large hand to one of your mounds, biting his lip as he gently squeezed the soft flesh, barely holding back the groan that escaped by a strangled way when some milk splashed on his shirt "Fuck..."

You couldn't help but whine too. The feeling of his slender fingers groping your breast had been great, but it was the hunger in his eyes when your breast milk splashed out that made you start to feel desperate. "A-Aaron... I want you. I want your mouth."

"Oh, do you want my mouth, angel?" He scoffed, going back to caressing your breast, but now with one hand on each one. "And where do you want my mouth? Here?" Hotch questioned teasingly and leaned in, brushing his lips against the skin of your neck, feeling you shudder when he licked it and grazed his teeth afterwards.

He waited for your answer, but you just shook your head. It was good, of course. However, it was far from what you really wanted.

"Oh, no?" He feigned surprise, looking into your eyes now desperate for more. Hotch then smirked and stood up enough for you to be face to face. He moistened his lips, noticing the way your gaze fell there immediately. "Here, maybe?" Hotch teased, capturing your mouth in a slow but intense kiss. He tasted your lips as if they were heaven, delighting with the pleasure of dipping his tongue into your mouth and feeling your tongue too.

Then you moved your face away, panting for air. "No. More..." You whispered, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He laughed lightly. "More? You're so greedy, baby..." Hotch scoffed, thinking about stopping the teasing, but an idea popped into his head, lowering his face until he was close to your breasts again. One of his hands kept caressing one of them, his long fingers playing with your nipple wet with milk.

However, his right hand let go of your left breast, making you whimper with confusion. "Why did you stop? You're so fucking... Oh!" You moaned, your eyes widening when his fingers got into your panties. "H-Hotch..."

Your moans made Hotch smirked, as he rubbed your clit slowly, enjoying how wet your pussy already was. "Is this where you want my mouth, baby?" He said, rubbing a little slower to get some verbal reaction from you.

"Not yet... Not yet." You managed to whisper as he slowed down, afraid he would completely stop rubbing your needy bud.

Hotch scoffed. "Wow, my future wife's a spoiled and needy little whore...." He went back to interspersing the movements of the hand that pleasured your pussy with the hand that caressed your heavy breast. "How about here then?" He blew lightly on your left nipple that was without his attention. "What do you think, angel?"

You almost whimpered at that teasing. It was obvious what you wanted and it was obvious Hotch was desperate for it too. Meanwhile, Hotch liked to hear you ask him. Beg him.

"Y-yes, please..." You pouted sadly as he chuckle, finally bringing his mouth, licking the sensitive nipple and making you moan his name, his soft tongue tasting the light drops of milk that flowed through contact. "S-suck... Please, Aaron, I need you to suck my milk."

Hotch lifted his face to look at you, doing as you asked. His mouth closed carefully around your nipple, making a gentle sucking motion, his eyes widening as much as you did when a favorable amount of milk came on his tongue, making him swallow with surprise before keeping sucking.

You felt the movements of his hands faltering, his mind going into a frenzy as he heard you moaning desperately each time he sucked you like a hungry baby. Your entire body had been needy since giving birth, but your breasts... They had become a powerful and fragile little thing at the same time. They were always sensitive due to continuous breastfeeding. Hotch had never given you pleasure there since Clarice was born, too busy taking care of you two and Jack, in addition to always having his mind stuck on work. Besides, neither of you have had much time since then.

However, you knew it wasn't just because your breasts were sensitive or the fact that both of you had been deprived of sex for a while. It was the incredible feeling of having Hotch suckle on your milk, seeing him desperate for every drop.

When he closed his eyes to focus on sucking and enjoy the slightly sweet taste of breast milk even more, you began to tremble your orgasm getting closer. His fingers kept rubbing your clit while the other fingers played with your free nipple, but it was the sight of him with his eyes closed and sucking your milk that made you cum, moaning his name breathlessly and wetting his fingers with your release.

Hotch smirked as he noticed the real reason for your orgasm. He opened his eyes, nibbling on the tip of your breast and stopping fingering you so as not to prolong your overstimulation too much after you whimpered in slight discomfort when it all started to get too much. "That was more amazing than I imagined it would be." He murmured, tongue still busy licking you.

“Too amazing, actually…” You teased, moving his lips away from your nipple. "You better save some drops for Clarice."

He chuckled at your joke, feeling you run your hand over his chin, wiping away the drops of milk that had run down, gently licking your own fingers.

"Thanks for not judging me, angel."

The sweet words made you smile, and you stroked his hair tenderly. "I would never do that." Your gaze dropped to his boner, even bigger than before. "And I'll help you with that if you promise to tell me about what was plaguing your mind earlier."

Hotch rolled his eyes sarcastically, looking at you with a frown and a small smile on his face. "Okay... That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make then. But just this once."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

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mariasont · 6 months ago

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hi hiiiiii!!! could you do a hotch x bau reader where there’s an age difference between them like she’s in her 20’s and she has a crush on him and thinks it’s stupid and the team tease her about it but apparently he has a crush on her too? thank youuuu i love your work so much

Stupid Crush - A.H

a/n: your wish is my command, thank you so much for requesting i hope you love it <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: idiots crushing on each other, age gap (20s and 40s), garcia spilling the beans about reader's crush (not cool penelope!)

wc: 1.4k

Your tennis shoes were scuffing into the padded floor, hands resting on your hips while your bottom lip bore the brunt of your anxious chewing. You were here to train, led by your favorite boss.

But your concentration was slipping, stolen by the sight of that same boss, Aaron Hotchner, who managed to make even the simplest training gear look exceptionally good.

You were trying to be discreet, but with your track record, you were sure that wasn't the case. As the youngest member of the team, you'd grown accustomed to the good-natured teasing--a sort of rite of passage, really. But the teasing took on a new intensity whenever it involved your poorly concealed crush on Hotch.

The whole team knew, and they would never let you forget that they knew, constantly reminding you of the way you laughed a little too hard at his dad jokes, how you were the first to agree with his plans, and how you were always finding an excuse to stay late and help him with paperwork.

And to your absolute horror, their teasing was as subtle as a sledgehammer. Morgan winking at you when Hotch compliments your work, Prentiss sending you mortifying texts anytime he was near, and Garcia had taken to called you Mrs. Hotchner when in private.

You blinked--once, twice--as you attempted to refocus your attention to where Hotch's mouth was moving, explaining something about a wrist release move, meant to disarm a larger attacker from behind--a lesson you definitely should be absorbing. Instead, it took the unexpected call of your name from his direction to snap you out of your daze.

He was motioning you to the front. Your brows leapt upwards, and you looked around, hoping for an out of some sort. Bu the knowing looks and suppressed chuckles of your teammates made it clear--they wouldn't dream of intervening, not when they were about to be so thoroughly amused.

You let out a small, defeated sigh as you allowed your legs to carry you forward, all the while ignoring the team's exchange of looks as if they could just sense how flustered you were sure to get.

"How do you want me?"

You resisted the urge to slap a hand over your mouth as soon as you said it, the room filled with muffled snickers. Hotch didn't bat an eye, all but manhandling you, turning you to face the wall with him at your back.

"Now, when the unsub grabs you from behind, like this," he says, his arm a firm band across your chest in a way that made you have to remember how to breathe. "Your first instinct is to panic. But you need to stay calm and think about your next move."

"That might be kind of hard for her." The comment, possibly from JJ, washed over you, igniting a wave of heat that spread like wildfire across your skin.

"The key here is to use the unsub's grip against them. You're going to twist your wrist towards their thumb. The thumb is the weakest part of their grip. So you'll rotate like this," he guides your hand, "and pull down sharply."

You followed his instructions, doing your utmost to overlook just how close he was to you and the way it was sending your senses into a tailspin, especially as his voice seemed to echo intimately in your ear.

"Now, as you're doing that, you want to step to the side, out of their immediate reach. This will give you the space to turn and face the threat. Then, with your free hand, you deliver a strike to the unsub's face or neck to incapacitate them."

As he stepped back, air filled your lungs once more. You managed to move independently, but you kept your chin dipped low, hiding your face, terrified by the thought of him noticing the fluster all over your face.

"Let's try that again, but this time, I want you to do it without my guidance," he instructed. His voice was clear, but your attention had drifted to the curve of his cheek, the focus in his eyes. "Remember, swift and precise movements. And don't forget to breathe."

Another round of giggles. You were going to hide all of their favorite mugs later.

You returned to the starting position, fitting snugly against him. This time, his hand on your hip brushed against bare skin, eliciting an instinctive twitch and a giggle from your lips.

"You okay?"

You pressed you lips together, silently thanking the gods as his hand found a new home on your shoulder. A mute nod was all you could muster, not trusting your own words as you repeated his instructions, ignoring the searing heat that seemed to engulf your body.

"Good. That's exactly what you need to do." Your nose and ears were burning. "It's not about strength; it's about leverage." He pressed a hand to your back as he faced the rest of the team. "Alright, take five."

After the demonstration, you and Garcia were huddled by the water cooler, taking a generous sip as if that would somehow cool down your insides.

Garcia leaned in, pushing her glasses up her nose, and murmured, "You know, if you keep acting like that, Hotch is going to figure out that you're not just for his profiling skills."

You sputtered, water dribbling down your chin as you tried to form a denial, but what emerged was nothing short of babble, and you were acutely aware that your expression was likely revealing everything you wished to hide.

A throat cleared behind you, and you felt a chill run through you, your hand automatically setting the cup down. Garcia's eyes turned to saucers, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was--your body's instinctive response to his nearness said it all.

"Could I see you in my office?"

You whipped around, thumb jabbing into your chest as your gaze collided with his. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

Your heart seemed to sink, but still, you obediently followed him, like a puppy. Morgan's elbow connected with your side as you walked by, mouthing a good luck.

Alright, new plan, you weren't just going to hide Morgan's favorite mug, you were going to throw it out the window.

You trailed Hotch into his office, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, your heart pounding as he closed the door with a click--never a good sign.

"I'm really sorry, sir. Garcia's just, you know, she's probably drunk, and I don't have—well, you're definitely hot, obviously, I mean, not obviously, but I didn't mean—,"

Hotch cut you short with the raise of his hand, moving so he was sitting in his chair behind the desk. "What are you talking about?"

"Garcia's comment, about me having a crush on you," you admit, and then your mouth forms the perfect o of realization. "Unless you didn't hear that, and I just outed myself for no reason?"

His brows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "You have a—,"

"Right, so you didn't hear that. Forget I said anything. I'm sure there's something I need to do... somewhere else, so I'll just—,"

You were scrambling out of your chair, silently pleasing for the floor to open up, but you didn't get far, a hand wrapping around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"Hold on a second."

"Please, Hotch. I've humiliated myself enough, don't you think? If you have any respect for me still, let me leave with at least some of my dignity intact."

You were already mentally mapping out your options: transferring, resigning, even fleeing the country. A different name, a new passport--Garcia could probably help with that.

"I hold you in a higher regard than just respect." Each word was diminishing the space between you.

Maybe you could go to Puerto Rico? That's still technically U.S. territory. Or maybe Mexico, though, given Reid's history, it's probably best to steer clear.

"Well, that's good, I guess."

He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up. "I'm not good at this."

"Good at what?"

"Asking pretty women on dates."

"Who are you asking on a date?"

"Christ." He exhaled sharply before leaning forward, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips.

When he pulled away, you blinked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, am the pretty woman you're trying to ask out?"

"Is that a yes?"

You couldn't help the wide smile that spread across your face. "That's sooooo a yes."

You looped your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. This time, it was deeper. You decided that you could kiss him forever, and it would still be your favorite pastime.

Maybe it wasn't such a stupid crush.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 5 months ago

Text

"anything" - emily prentiss x liaison!fem!reader

summary: you take an unnecessary risk out in the field

wc: 1.4k

cw: flangst? typical cm violence, but mostly just mentions, pre-establish relationship!

this is my first emily fic plz lmk if u like it!

A steady beeping slowly drags you awake. Your eyes flutter open and you take in the hospital room around you. The first thing you notice is the source of the beeping, from the patient monitor beside your bed. Then the pain hits you like a muffled train wreck, crashing into you but hitting a wall, so it doesn’t hurt quite so bad. They must have you on some strong medication, because it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as you thought it would. The worst feeling of all, though, comes from your abdomen, and when you shift in the bed, it aches and this weak little whimper uncontrollably escapes you.

“Don’t move,” the velvet voice beside you warns. You didn’t even realize Emily was in here, that’s how knocked out you feel. When you turn your head, you see she’s got the chair pulled up as close to your bed as it can go, her elbows connected to her knees in a C-shaped hunch. “You’ll pop your stitches, and it still wouldn’t be the stupidest thing you’ve done today.”

You hear the sternness in your girlfriend’s voice and feel the color drain from your face. She always said you could never control your face, at least not around the people you love. In family interviews, or talking to the press? You could be stone-cold, unreadable. But once you’re comfortable around someone, your visage has a mind of its own.

“I’m-”

“I know, you’re sorry,” Emily scoffs. Her voice reminds you of bitter, dark chocolate right now. She’s clearly irritated, but remains by your side loyally. That’s how you know she loves you. “That doesn’t change the fact that you made a thoughtless, reckless decision.”

“I was actually going to say that I’m not sorry,” you huff, groaning softly as you move your rear back to sit up a little. Emily leans back in her seat and her jaw hardens. “Maybe I did act on impulse, but you would have done the same thing.”

“You disobeyed Hotch’s direct order to stay put,” Emily’s chocolate eyes darken, and she rises from her seat, towering over you with her arms crossed over her chest. “And it got you shot.”

“I thought you were in trouble,” you grumble, your voice just barely above a whisper.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Hotch and Morgan all went in different directions, and I heard a scream and a gunshot from where you had gone,” you rattle off, your words all stringing together from the drowsiness.

You recalled the vast farmland property where Garcia had nailed down the Unsub, how Hotchner didn’t want to wait on SWAT to show up because the guy’s endgame was so close to playing out. He killed at exactly noon with every single one of his victims, so the team had three minutes to find this missing girl.

“And I couldn’t just stay put, Emily, not when I thought you’d been hurt,” you wring your hands over the top of the scratchy hospital blanket, your knuckles going stark white. “I couldn’t just wait to see what had happened. I couldn’t be helpless like that, not when I thought you might be hurt.”

Emily’s got her eyes closed and she’s breathing in and out sharply, like she’s forcing herself to calm down, to filter through her initial thoughts so as to not say anything irreversible. “But Hotch told you to stay put,” she repeats in a defeated murmur, lifting one arm to run her hand through her hair. Her fringe is all over the place, and you’re just now noticing the dirt on her milky white cheek. She’s not rested since the farm, you realize, not even taken a second to wipe the dirt off her face.

Guilt pours over you like a rainstorm, and you feel angry, frustrated, self-reproaching tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I didn’t do it to scare you,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, Em. I’m sorry that you had to worry about me like that. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant knowing that you were okay.”

“Don’t Em me,” her voice cracks and you see tears start to fall from her eyes. She must be so tired. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, but you can tell from her posture, from her expression, that she’s not had a moment of respite since she saw the bullet take you down.

You recall the look on her face - horrified, when she hovered over you, lying in the dirt. She shot the Unsub directly after he shot you. Hotch and Morgan made it in time to help the victim out of her ties, so she ran over to you the second the Unsub was down.

“What were you thinking?!” she shrieked, lifting your shirt only to find blood oozing from the hole in your stomach.

“I thought…” you murmured breathlessly, your eyes immediately feeling heavy.

“Someone get a medic over here now!” she shouted, holstering her gun and pressing her hands onto your stomach. You woke up in the ambulance a little bit after that, but were too hazy to say anything.

All you remember is Emily crushing your hand between both of yours and muttering something under her breath repeatedly. "Stay with me, baby." You hear it now. "Please don't go."

You reach gingerly for her hand as she stands over you now, unable to stretch your arm out too far for fear of popping a stitch. She helps you out and shuffles forward a step, sitting back down in her chair and pulling it next to the bed. Your fingers grasp hers, and then your palms are flush together. “I’m still really pissed at you,” Emily says. “So is Hotch. Says he has half a mind to take you off active duty altogether.”

You purse your lips. Surely that’s not totally true. “Well, then he’d have to deal with the press on his own, and he’d want to rip his hair out,” you say. Emily squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

“I think he’d do it if it mitigates the risk of you getting shot,” Emily admits seriously.

“It’s just a graze,” you grumble. Emily’s glowering at you again, and you concede. “A graze that required emergency surgery, but still a graze.”

“Baby, I don’t think you know what a graze is,” Emily says. “They had to remove a bullet from your stomach. That’s not a graze.”

You feel your cheeks tingle as they turn pink and you shrug your shoulders, pretending to be none the wiser. “Tomato, tomahto,” you wave your free hand nonchalantly.

“You feel okay right now? D’you need any more pain meds?” Emily asks, the caretaker in her taking over, despite her frustration towards you getting into this situation in the first place.

“I’m alright,” you say quietly. Emily’s eyes, beautiful orbs of brown so dark they’re almost black, float down to where your wound is. “Em, hey,” you insist, and those eyes snap back up to yours. “I’m alright. Promise.”

“You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Emily chastises with a sigh.

“How long are they keeping me here?” you ask in a feeble attempt to change the subject.

“Probably just a couple of days,” she says, lifting your knuckles to her lips and kissing them gently, like you’re made of fine china, like you could shatter at any moment. “Everyone wants to see you. I told them you probably wouldn’t be up for visitors until tomorrow,” she says.

“That’s fine,” you agree, leaning your head back against the pillow. Whatever medications flowing through the IV in your wrist has you feeling very low-energy. “And how long are you gonna be mad at me?” you ask, sticking your bottom lip out a little in an attempt to earn some sympathy points.

Emily shakes her head a little, but you see the faint uptick of her mouth that gives her away. “At the very least, however long it takes you to recover,” she jokes halfheartedly.

“Does my punishment come with a ban on kisses?” you ask, tugging her hand with your own.

Emily leans forward in her seat, her lips mere centimeters from your own. “That would be a punishment for me, too, and I didn’t do anything wrong,” she teases, then pecks your lips briefly.

Your eyes are feeling heavy, and you heave a small sigh. “Love you, Em,” you say softly as the room goes dark. “Do anything for you, Em.”

“I know you would, baby,” Emily sighs as well, but you feel her thumb swiping over the back of your hand. “That’s the problem.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

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snixkers · 5 months ago

Text

Naked in Manhattan

Pairing: Emily Prentiss × Fem!Reader

EXPLICIT CONTENT, SMUT

For: requested by @bloodycoochielicker, submitting for @cmkinkbingo2024 for workplace sex

Content Warnings: Jealous Emily 🥵, fingering + cunnilingus (reader receiving), mentions of FWB and polyamory but they're all metaphorical, soft!Dom Emily my love, reader has afab anatomy, pure filth

Summary: Hotch lets you cover up with his jacket. In her defense, Emily would've if she had a jacket. Guess she'll have to find another way to warm you up.

Author's Note: Woah, another lesbian Emily Prentiss fic with a Chappell Roan song as the title? Crazy. Also disclaimer, pls don't have sex in public bathrooms the germs are 🤢🤮

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

Your night had started out promising, but that clearly was not going to be the case. Girls' night was promptly interrupted by Hotch calling everyone in for a case, so you were forced to abandon your drinks and dancing for work.

As you arrived at the BAU, you began to notice that you were severely underdressed. Most people were clearly pulled from bed. JJ was in a signature mom cardigan, Garcia still had her sleep mask around her neck, and Reid's cardigan was backwards.

Your eyes couldn't help but wander to Emily, noticing her low-cut tanktop and lack of bra that you had seen several times. Quickly, you glanced over at the TV, trying not to get yourselves caught.

Hotch noticed you shivering in your tight strapless dress, undoing the ironed suit jacket that he must sleep in, and handed it over.

"I don't want you to be cold when we head to New York."

You gratefully pulled on the jacket, but that didn't mean you missed the jealousy that flashed through Emily's eyes before she schooled her expression.

"New York?"

He nodded, passing a folder to everyone.

"Manhattan. Three strangulation victims."

Hotch headed out of the room, calling 'wheels up in 30' over his shoulder. Everyone hurried to get their things, while Emily gestured for you to follow her.

The two of you made your way into the empty bathroom on the 5th floor that no one used, and she pulled you into the last stall.

"What the hell?"

She narrowed her eyes at your protests, torn between desire and anger.

"You're just letting Hotch give you his jacket?"

You rolled your eyes, turning to face her.

"It's a jacket. You're acting like I slept with him."

She grabbed your arms, turning you around so you were pressed face first against the wall.

"Is that what you want?"

You shook your head, biting back a smirk as you tried to play dumb.

"We're not exclusive, Em. I could if I wanted to."

She leaned closer, brushing your hair away from your neck to work a series of bruises into your skin.

"I don't want to share."

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head back to give her access.

"Friends with benefits implies that you aren't the only one I have to benefit from."

She turned you back around, her breath fanning across your cheek. "Well, then that's not what I want to be."

Your smile dropped slightly. You were expecting her to be jealous and rough you up, not this.

"What are you trying to say?"

She shrugged, all the jealousy leaving her body as she started to to get doubts. "Whatever more than friends with benefits is."

You reached out to entwine your fingers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "That's called dating."

Emily sighed, running a hand through her hair before getting to her knees in front of you. Before you could say anything, she had your dress pulled above your waist and was running a finger over the crotch of your panties.

You shivered at her touch, toes curling in anticipation of what was to come. She dragged her knuckles up and down a couple times before pushing the panties to the side. Her eyebrows raised as she took in your wetness, grinning proudly.

"All of this for me?"

You nodded dumbly, fog starting to take over your brain as you focused on her touch and the fact that she wanted to be with you. Sure, you had daydreamed about it, but you never thought she would feel the same.

She leaned forward, and before you knew it, her face was buried in your pussy. She expertly swirled her tongue around your clit a couple times before flattening it and licking in broad stripes. You moaned at the sensations, eyes fluttering shut. She glanced up, shaking her head.

"No, watch me. I want you to see exactly how much I need you."

You forced yourself to watch her as she ate you out, your legs quickly turning to jelly with each precise movement. After a couple minutes, she slowly pushed her index finger inside, curling it slightly.

Your back arched off the wall, white hot pleasure growing in your belly as she worked her magic. Her tongue and fingers were everywhere, caressing and comforting you. As she continued her ministrations, you realized that you could get used to this.

The sex was amazing, but something about the way she looked up at you with pure love in her eyes made it better.

She reached up, bringing the top of your dress down and freeing your breasts. Emily used her free hand to trace figure eights around them before hungrily squeezing. You could feel your orgasm building, the coil wound so tightly your ears were ringing.

The bathroom was echoing with your moans and cries, and before you knew it, you were coming on her tongue. She lapped it up eagerly, reveling in being the one to bring you pleasure.

Emily slowly stood up, her arm wrapped around your waist until you could properly stand on your own. She brought her finger to her mouth, sucking off your juices like they were a full course meal.

"Em, did you actually mean it?"

She nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I want you to wake up in my bed and stay."

You bit your lip, not wanting to come off too eager.

"Actually, that sounds really good."

She smiled and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue as you took control.

"Now, take off your pants. We have enough time for me to return the favor."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #reqs open #fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #wlw post

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