#except for Aaron who just nods in agreement

[the-gay-cousin-666]

I imagine the Foxes watching a horror movie and Neil randomly going "that's not what happens when you gut a man." in the middle of a gore scene. Just completely blank-faced.

And then he's confused why the others are looking at him weird instead of watching the movie.

#except for Aaron who just nods in agreement #entirely unrealistic portrayal of insides #takes you out of the moment doesn't it #aftg #neil josten #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #aftg memes #all for the gay #the kings men #the raven king #aaron minyard #andreil #palmetto state foxes #aftg shitpost

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

I Think He Knows | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: JJ invites her best friend, a linguistics professor, to help out on a couple of cases. When she and Spencer work together, something sparks between them.

Warnings: Your usual Criminal Minds murders and gore, inappropriate thoughts and conversations about coworkers, making out, plot holes (read author's note),

Author's note: I know Season 4, Episode 12 is without JJ, but let's pretend JJ is there anyway and Jordan has never been there, okay? Okay. Thank yew.

Words: 4.3K

“I think he knows.” 

JJ’s brows furrowed as she looked at her best friend, back pressed against the shut door of her office. It took her one look at the wide-eyed, worry-filled girl to know just what the hell she was even talking about. 

Everything had started when JJ introduced her to the team. 

JJ and y/n had been childhood best friends and kept in contact, even when both of them moved away from Pennsylvania. While JJ moved to Washington DC to join the FBI, y/n was making her career as a linguistics professor in New York City. So, when they needed a linguistic expert, y/n was the first one JJ called for her expertise. 

“Thank you so much for coming,” JJ said as she embraced her oldest friend. 

A smile resided on her face. “Of course, Jayj. Anything for you.”

“Come, meet the team!” 

JJ grabbed y/n’s hand and dragged her towards the bullpen. Everyone seemed to be gathered around one particular desk, hunched over a case file. 

“Guys, I want you to meet y/n, she’s gonna help us with linguistics,” JJ said, capturing everyone’s attention. “y/n/n, these are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia and Spencer Reid.” She introduced them, pointing at each member of the team as their name was called. 

Y/N simply offered all of them an awkward wave, suddenly self-conscious about the attention she was getting. “Luckily, I’m good with names,” she chuckled, which made the others laugh too. 

The eight of them filed into the briefing room where JJ explained the case to everyone. Luckily – if you could use that word in this field – it was a local case, meaning y/n could stay with JJ for the time being. The two women were actually quite excited about that. 

This one seemed to be a pretty open-and-shut case. An abduction of a politician's daughter with a ransom note that led the team straight to the Unsub. Spencer and y/n worked on the note together, both of them quickly noticing some outstanding quirks of the guy’s personality. 

“First and foremost, I can tell you that the guy you’re looking for is actually a guy,” y/n started explaining to the team when they had regrouped. “He uses a lot of articles, prepositions and big words. So, we are looking in the right direction.” 

Spencer nodded his head in agreement. “He’s also very precise in his choice of words, so he’s most likely an introvert. He tells us exactly where to be and at what time, something an extrovert wouldn’t do.” 

“He’s also using ‘I’ and ‘mine’, which further proves the introverted side of this UnSub. Normally, higher rates of ‘I’ words correspond with feelings of insecurity, threat and defensiveness. Closer inspection of his ‘I’ use in context tends to confirm this,” y/n continued, seamlessly flowing with Spencer in their debrief. 

“Not only that, but the number of words such as ‘except’, ‘but’, and ‘however’ changed. These are all ways to encourage dialogue or thinking and indicate higher cognitive processes. They also signify a willingness to tell the truth,” said Spencer. 

The two of them glanced at each other and offered a smile before turning to the rest of the team, who were looking at them as though they had just witnessed a talking dog. 

“It’s like they’re copy-pasted,” Emily muttered. 

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and when she looked over at her partner-in-solving-linguistics-psyche, his cheeks had a dust of rouge. Before either of them could add anything else, Hotch nodded his head before scraping his chair back. 

“We’re ready to give a profile. Let’s head down to the Metropolitan Police Department,” he ordered and everyone quickly followed. Even y/n. With the research she and Spencer had done, they were their best options to go over the profile with the detectives. 

It felt great to be doing such important work, especially when her analysis helped catch the guy in the end. Even better when JJ had asked her to come back on another case, needing her language expertise again. 

Every time, she and Spencer worked closely together to try and analyze any sort of text that had been brought up during the case. Whether it was newspaper ads, ransom notes or blog posts. Nothing was too hard for the duo. 

The fifth time they asked her, it was a bit more of a difficult case. 

When she had walked into the BAU that morning of the fifth case, her breath had hitched in her throat. She couldn’t deny that she found the young doctor very attractive, but there was something about him that morning with his hair slicked back and the patterned button-down and his perpetually crooked tie. 

“Morning,” Spencer greeted with a beautiful smile that had her knees buckle. 

She grimaced, trying to keep herself composed, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult that day. “Good morning,” she greeted back. Her brain decided she needed him to feel the same way she did. “You look good this morning, Doc.” 

When the resident genius blushed furiously, she knew she had succeeded. He awkwardly coughed whilst his lips quirked up into a shy smile. “Th-thank you, y/n. So–so do you.” 

“Thanks.” Her eyes stayed glued on his, something unspoken passing between the two when the rest of the team entered the bullpen. 

JJ, being y/n’s best friend, immediately caught onto what was happening between the two. But, with the task at hand, she decided not to say anything. Yet.

Though y/n knew that she knew.

JJ always knew. 

For this case, the team flew to Sarasota in Florida and y/n was allowed to come along. Once everyone was briefed about the case, they all piled onto the jet where y/n took her trusty spot next to JJ. While she was reading over the case file again, she couldn’t help but sneak glances at Spencer, who was sitting on the other side of the plane. 

Sometimes, their gazes would meet and they’d turn away quickly, like two teenagers who were crushing on one another. 

“Okay, what’s going on between you two?” JJ asked softly, not wanting the coworker in question to hear her. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, barely taking her eyes off the file, even though they involuntarily flitted back towards the youngest on the team. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayj.” 

“You and Spence. You can’t lie to me, y/n/n. You’re acting the exact same way  you did when you had that crush on Landon during our senior year.” 

A soft gasp left y/n’s mouth. “I forgot about Landon,” she whispered, giggling at the memory of her constant gushing over the boy. It took her a good four months of swooning over him before he finally asked her out. 

JJ’s eyebrows rose in question, impatiently so. 

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie that I find him attractive,” y/n admitted, but it wasn’t enough for her best friend. “Fine,” she grumbled, then sighed, admitting defeat. “I–” but before she got go off on a tirade, Penelope appeared on the laptop screen, wanting to let them know what she had found. 

“This is not over,” JJ warned as the team descended the jet afterwards. 

The Sarasota Police Department had a suspect in custody, but not enough evidence to keep him for more than forty-eight hours, so they were on a clock. The team worked tirelessly, trying to piece together the evidence. While the others went to the crime scenes, the suspect’s house or the ME, Garcia had found a blog post on the guy’s computer, which Spencer and y/n were now decoding together.

“Look,” y/n said, pointing to a paragraph on the printed copy of the blog post. “He switches between the words ‘soda’ and ‘pop’.” 

His shoulder brushed against hers as he leaned over to look at the paper she was pointing at. The feeling of his body being so close to hers caused her to heat up from the inside out. Her bodily reaction told her she wanted more of him. She wanted him to be this close at all times. 

“This is not just one person,” he mumbled, then pointed to another paragraph. “Not one person ever uses dashes and ellipses in the same text, right?” 

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “Ellipses and dashes are not interchangeable, but the misuse of either and both is common. A dash is a highlighter. An ellipsis takes the place of missing words. Not one person ever uses both in texts.” 

“Hey, lovebirds,” Morgan’s voice interrupted them, even startling y/n a little. 

She had been too wrapped up in her own world, she hadn’t even noticed Morgan and Rossi walking in with the Sheriff by their side. 

“You found anything?” asked Rossi, unable to hide the smirk underneath his mustache. 

Spencer nodded his head before taking a step back from y/n. “Garcia’s been digging through William’s computer. She found an encrypted link to a web page.” 

“Where’d it take you?” Derek questioned. 

Y/N put the lid back on her red Sharpie before sticking it in her ponytail, wedging it between the hairband and the crown of her head. “An unsearchable, untraceable blog with tons of journal entries. It’s like some sort of diary.” 

“You find anything incriminating?” Rossi asked. 

“We were able to differentiate between two distinct voices. Two authors,” Spencer started explaining and y/n couldn’t but gawk at him, intrigued by what he was saying even though she already knew. “We found various idiosyncratic words, phrases, punctuation and orthography within the blog entries, consistent with each separate person.”

“Words like “soda” and “pop”,” y/n added. 

Nodding, Spencer added with a smile, “One guy uses dashes while the other uses ellipses.” The giggle at the end of his sentence made y/n’s stomach flutter. 

Spencer being so interested in the English language had to have been the cutest thing she had ever seen. It made her heart skip a beat and her spine tingle all the way to her toes. “That was hot,” she muttered, her eyes widening upon realizing the words didn’t stay in her mind. 

Luckily, Spencer had already returned to the board and Rossi was too busy talking to the Sheriff to have heard it. The only person, much to y/n’s dismay, that did hear it, was Derek Morgan. With that devilish smirk of his plastered on his face he was looking down at her. 

She coughed and turned back to the rest of the team. “One side of the discourse made reference to the “devil’s strip”,” she explained before Derek could start his relentless teasing. 

“What the hell’s that?” asked the Sheriff. 

At that moment, Spencer turned around again, not realizing y/n had moved and nearly bumped into her. Instead of stepping back, though, he remained in his spot with his chest pressed against her back. It sent yet another shiver down her spine, which required y/n to breathe in deep before she lost control and jumped his bones then and there. 

“It’s a small patch of grass that separates the sidewalk from the street. Now, that term is only used in central Ohio. William lived in Atlanta for twenty years, but he grew up in Columbus,” Spencer explained. 

In agreement, y/n hummed. “The other guy uses words like “turnpike” and “filling the gas tank”, both specific regionalisms for Florida,” she continued just as one of the deputies passed by with William in handcuffs. 

Derek looked back at the suspect before turning to the linguistics duo. “Kid, you sure about this?” he asked Spencer, which merely earned him a slight tilt of the head and a deadpanned glare that said ‘seriously?’.

Of course Spencer and y/n were sure about this and Derek knew better than to doubt that. 

While Morgan and Rossi went to question William about what they found, Spencer and y/n continued working on the blog. After a good hour, y/n decided to go and get them both some coffee, needing the pick-me-up to keep herself going. 

“Here,” she muttered, handing the cup to him. “With three spoonfuls of sugar.” She then pouted, “They didn’t have almond milk.” 

Spencer chuckled before reaching in his satchel and handing her a carton of almond milk. Surprised, y/n added a cloud of the milk into her coffee, ignoring how her heart was soaring. 

She smiled a thankful smile and took a sip of the hot beverage as the two of them turned back to the splayed out blog posts on the board in front of them.

“Wait,” he then mumbled with his brows furrowed. “Where’s the–” he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on the item he was looking for. 

Gazing up at him, y/n’s heart quickened when he reached for her head and fished the red Sharpie out of her hair. “Right, sorry,” she whispered, nearly swooning at the soft smile on his face. 

She watched as Spencer started adding lines and annotating a paragraph of the blog post. As she followed what he was doing, her brain started to form theories and analytics. “Faith should never be broken,” she read aloud, then wiggled her nose in thought. “The longer they got away with it, the stronger their relationship,” she pointed out. 

Within the next few hours, Derek came to check on the two of them, wanting to know if they had gotten any further into finding out who William’s partner was. Then, later, the whole team had gathered again to brief one another on their findings. 

“Connie Mayers described an Anger Excitation Rapist, just like William,” Emily told them. 

“So, we’re looking at two dominant personalities?” asked Derek. 

 Y/N nodded her head as the words registered in her brain. “That makes sense,” she said. “They have a similar discourse.” Spencer nodded his head as well, agreeingly. 

“They’re equally well-written,” he added. 

“That’s a big deal?” the Sheriff wanted to know. 

Spencer’s eyes skidded from the Sheriff to y/n and back as he said, “It’s rare in criminal partnerships.” 

“If their personalities are the same, their lives probably mirror one another’s as well,” Emily clarified. 

As the Sheriff spoke, y/n went to sit on the desk in front of Spencer, needing to give her feet a rest. “Harris goes to church, on the board of the PTA, coaches his daughter’s soccer team, rarely drinks.” 

“Sounds like a saint,” JJ commented with a roll of her eyes. 

“With a dark side,” Hotch offered. “It’s what he connected to in the partner.” He then nodded to Emily. “Prentiss and I will go talk to the family, see if they know who it might be.” Hotch and Emily exited the precinct, leaving the rest of the team to their own projects. 

Derek sighed as he moved closer towards the board. “Two alpha males won’t be easy to break,” he pointed out. 

“The partner is definitely following the investigation,” JJ added with a determined nod. 

“Let’s do the talking for them,” Rossi suggested. 

“You want me to put this out in the public?” asked the blonde. 

Rossi held up the bundle of papers that contained the blog posts. “We’ve got something better.” 

“Why would he read it?” the Sheriff wanted to know. “He knows William won’t be writing.” 

“These men are addicted to each other,” Derek argued. “Right now, he needs a fix, and the words they’ve shared are all he has to cling to.” 

Y/N climbed off the desk again as an idea popped into her head. “His partner wrote “Faith should never be broken”. A betrayal could devastate him.” 

“All we have to say is that William’s cooperating, and then hope he takes the bait,” Derek said. 

Nodding their heads in agreement, Spencer and y/n gathered in front of the laptop. “You should do the typing,” he said. “You’re probably our best shot at tricking him.” 

With a smile, y/n took a seat. “Why, thank you, gentleman,” she cooed, earning those flustered rosy cheeks from him. Together, the two of them came up with a pretty convincing blog post that would get the UnSub to reach out. 

“What do we got so far?” Derek asked. 

“We were surprised that you injected yourself into the investigation. You risked a lot in order to help William.” Y/N and Spencer read it aloud at the same time, their voices mixing together smoothly like a perfect harmony in a song. 

Deciding not to comment on how blatantly obvious the two had been, Derek turned back to the task at hand. “And killing Missy tells us how close you really are.” Y/N quickly typed it up into the computer. “It must be devastating to learn that William is here with us.” 

“He’s not gonna like that, it sounds like William is cooperating,” Spencer mumbled as he placed one hand on the desk, the other on the back of y/n’s chair to lean in closer to read the words on screen. 

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt his breath fan against her cheek. “Well,” she coughed to try and keep her composure. “That’s exactly what we want him to believe, so he’ll doubt their alliance.” 

Once the blog post was sent, all the team could do was wait for the partner’s response. While they did that, Morgan, Spencer and y/n continued working to try and find something else, just in case their first plan fell through. 

It took them a while. A lot of back and forth between Morgan and William, a lot of trying to decipher the blog posts. But in the end, the entire team managed to find William’s partner and save Andrea from her neighbor’s claws. Once they had both of them arrested, the BAU could finally breathe again. 

Spencer and y/n were cleaning up the mess they had made with analyzing the blog entries. The both of them kept to themselves in silence, trying to calm their overheated brains. Out of the five cases she assisted on, this one had to have been the hardest. 

As y/n absentmindedly reached for a pile of paper, Spencer did the same, causing their hands to bump. “Oh,” y/n giggled, a chuckle rolling off Spencer's lips as well. “Sorry,” they both apologized before he retracted his hand, allowing her to grab the pile. 

“I, uh, I enjoyed working with you – a-again,” he stammered nervously. 

A smile curved her lips. “As did I with you, Spence.” 

The smile he gave her made her knees buckle. Anything this man did would make her weak. She had all these feelings bubbling up inside her the second she merely looked at him and it was driving her absolutely nuts. 

But there was nothing she could do about it. After this case, she’d be going back to New York City without even knowing when she’d be seeing the Behavioral Analysis Unit again. For all she knew, she was never going to see Dr. Spencer Reid again. 

“Penelope?” y/n knocked on the tech’s door when she was back at Quantico. There was a file she needed to grab to complete her after-action report Hotch made her write. She was part of the team for that case after all. 

“Come in, girly pop!” Penelope exclaimed as she opened the door, her ever-chirpy attitude beaming off the walls as soon as she appeared in front of her. “I’ve got the file right here…” she trailed off whilst walking over to her desk to retrieve said file. When y/n reached for the manila folder, the blonde held it just out of reach. 

“Pen–”

“First, you gotta tell me what’s going on between you and Reid,” she almost sounded threatening. As soon as y/n opened her mouth to lie, Penelope cut her off. “And don’t lie to me!” 

She could feel her heart overflowing, needing to spill her deepest, darkest thoughts she had been locking inside. With a sigh, y/n plopped down on Garcia’s chair. Sensing the upcoming spilling-of-beans, Penelope perked herself on the corner of her desk. 

“He’s got my heart… skipping down sixteenth Avenue,” she started, earning a gasp from the blonde. “H-he’s got that…” she moaned out a sound that had to resemble how she was feeling, “I mean… I just wanna see what’s under all that intelligence, you know?” 

“Y/N! You dirty dog!” Penelope giggled, hitting the girl in front of her with the manila folder. 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh too, but then sighed. “But there’s nothing going to happen there. I’ll be off to New York later tonight and then who knows when I’ll see all of you again. It’s better that nothing happened.” She shrugged and got up from the chair, grabbing the file from Penelope’s hands. 

As Penelope protested, y/n turned around towards the door, only halting with widening eyes when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Her mind raised, trying to think of what he could’ve heard and debating whether or not he had heard it. Before she could embarrass herself even more, she quickly bid her goodbyes and sneaked past him, rushing towards JJ’s office. 

She hid inside, shutting the door behind her before leaning her back against it. Her eyes were still widened as they landed on JJ in a panic. “I think he knows,” she told her best friend. 

“What do you mean?” JJ asked, chuckling, dropping the file she was working on. 

Y/N took a seat in one of the chairs in front of JJ’s desk. “I was talking to Penelope about how–” she sighed. “About how I wanted to see what was under that intelligence…” 

“Y/N!” JJ scolded, though her lips curled up in a bemused smirk. 

“Worst of all is, when I got up to leave, he was standing in the doorway…” 

JJ’s jaw dropped. “Do you think he heard?” 

“I don’t know! I was too embarrassed to stay and ask, I just left!” Her voice came out squeaky from embarrassment alone. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She was hoping her best friend would know what to do. 

“I think you should go talk to him,” JJ suggested the one thing she didn’t want to do. 

Shaking her head, y/n protested. “Nuh-uh, Jayj, I’m leaving for New York tonight. Who knows if I’ll ever see him again!” 

“I do,” JJ told her. “You’re my best friend, I might hope you come and visit me often,” she joked and y/n did laugh, but it was a half-hearted one. The dilemma seemed to be eating her alive. “Go talk to him.” The order was so sweet, yet stern enough that y/n obeyed and exited the office. 

In the breakroom, she found the one she was looking for. He was making himself a cup of tea to keep him awake enough to finish his report. As he blew on the hot beverage, he glanced over the mug towards y/n, shooting a bolt of lightning through her heart with the intensity of his gaze. 

“Hi,” she greeted awkwardly. 

Spencer offered her a smile. “Hi.” 

“You, uh…” Her brain almost short-circuited, not knowing what to say. “You wanna get out of here? Go for a walk to clear our heads before continuing on our reports?” She needed the fresh air. Maybe that would clear the fog that clouded her judgment. 

“Sure,” he agreed and set his mug down before following after her. 

As soon as they stepped outside, Spencer turned to y/n. “I heard you, by the way–” Her eyes shut tight. “I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just needed to ask Penelope about something and then I heard you and–” 

“It’s fine, Spence. I-I shouldn’t have–” She cut herself short, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. His eyes sparkled in the dim streetlight, his smile almost lyrical. “What?” 

He shook his head with a giggle. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we were going back-and-forth about that first ransom note.” 

Y/N’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest at his confession. This had to be a dream. 

“And when I noticed how flustered you were when Emily insisted we were copy-pasted, I was a goner. It sounds so weird, but I’ve never met someone who met my level of intelligence.”

“Barely,” y/n scoffed, but Spencer either ignored her quip or he didn’t hear it. 

“I love how your eyes light up whenever you deduct how someone’s been using ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ or when the intent of the sentence dawns on you. I love how you stick your pens in your ponytail when you don’t have your hands free and how you wiggle your nose when you’re thinking. I love how you know my coffee order and how you’d get upset when no one has almond milk for yours.” 

She was absolutely soaring. Her heart was skipping, her eyes nearly tearing up at the sweetest of words rolling off his lips.

Before he could add anything that would send her into hysterical sobbing, she leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly. It was a quick kiss, more like a peck. Just to gauge his reaction. When his hands came up to cup her face, a soft smile landed on her lips before he kissed it away. 

This time around, it was deep and passionate; like he had been waiting to do this for the past five weeks, the same way she had been waiting to do this. She reeled at the feeling of his warm tongue slipping past her tingling lips. 

All of it reminded her of being seventeen again, no one understanding what she was feeling. 

But he understood. 

He knew. 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: 

@boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess 

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

[willowbird]

"Matthew Boyd, I swear, if you utter one more pun--"

"You'll punt me off the roof?" Matt asked, grinning far too wide even as he lifted his strawberry shake and took a long drink through the straw. They were at the cafeteria closest to Fox Tower, grabbing lunch before they would head to the library to get some homework done before practice this afternoon.

"Yes! Wait." Dan blinked then groaned. "UGH! You are awful. Terrible. Not funny and not at all cute."

"Aww, babe you think I'm adorable."

Dan snorted. "I most certainly do not." Actually, she most certainly did - but she wasn't going to admit that now, not while Matt was being ridiculous with his puns. Someone thought it would be a GREAT idea to leave a daily pun calendar on his desk and he'd been fucking insufferable all week. Dan was tempted to blame Aaron first - because as Matt's roommate he had the best access - but something told her that Aaron wouldn't set himself up for that kind of torment.

Matt gave a forlorn sigh. "It's alright, you may shun me now but I've made it through addiction - I can make it through this."

Dan rolled her eyes. "Your struggles with addiction cannot be compared to my lack of appreciation for stupid puns."

"Maybe you're right," Matt said with a sigh, but he was smiling too much for Dan to feel anything other than suspicion. "My viagra addiction really was the hardest time in my life."

"..."

Dan stared. Matt grinned, laughing as he hurriedly dodged the chicken nugget she hurled at him across the table.

Unfortunately, the nugget continued flying and smacked right into the back of a very blond head the next table over in the cafeteria. Dan's eyes widened as Andrew turned around and locked eyes with her.

"Oh shit!" she hissed, ducking down.

Matt turned around and then quickly whipped back to face her when he saw who was behind them. "Dan!" he squeaked in alarm. "You're gonna get us killed!"

"Bold of you to assume I would interrupt my lunch for murder, Boyd," Andrew said, suddenly right by their table. Next to him, Neil was munching on a chicken nugget.

Matt jumped so suddenly that his knees hit the bottom of the table and he hurriedly had to steady his drink before it toppled over. "Fuck!! How do you guys do that?!"

"Do what?" asked Neil, sipping a shake that he definitely hadn't been holding five seconds ago. Neil made a face then passed it to Andrew, who accepted it and slurped loudly without looking away from Matt.

Frowning, Matt looked from the two diminutive menaces to the shake down to the table in front of him - where his own strawberry milkshake was missing. "Hey!" He whipped his head back up and reached out to take the shake back but Andrew was just out of reach.

One fine pale eyebrow rose in skeptical appraisal, Andrew apparently utterly unimpressed as he took another long suck through the straw.

Dan watched all this with wide eyes, but when Matt turned pleading puppy-dog eyes to her she snapped her mouth shut and smothered a grin with the back of her hand. Clearing her throat, she looked from Matt over to Neil and Andrew, ignoring how Neil had yet another chicken nugget that she knew he must've stolen from her even though she hadn't caught the actual theft. Instead, she focused on his slightly shorter counterpart. "Sorry about the nugget-assault, Andrew. Matt was just driving me up the wall with his puns."

"Puns?" Neil asked, now holding a little boat of fries - though Dan had no idea where those would have come from, as neither her nor Matt had grabbed any before they sat down.

"Yeah, someone left a daily pun calendar in Matt and Aaron's room, and Matt has been torturing me all day." She wrinkled her nose. "I thought it was Aaron at first, but..."

Andrew snorted. "Aaron hates puns."

Neil nodded his agreement. "He thinks they're "auditory poison"," he added, the hand not holding his boat of fries lifting to form air quotes.

Matt scoffed. "What?! No! Puns are great!" He paused, appearing to think for a moment. "Well, except for math puns." He made a face and reached across the table to snag one of Dan's chicken nuggets - but there was no way Dan was letting him take a single morsel of deliciousness while he was still standing firm on his pro-pun stance.

She slapped his hand out of the way and ignored the pout he turned on her at the denial. Instead, she looked back at Andrew and Neil. Andrew was still sipping on Matt's shake, and Neil... had a plate of stir-fry he was deftly picking at with a pair of chopsticks.

Dan just stared at them for a moment before she shook her head and just rolled with it, one sorta had to do that with Neil and Andrew sometimes. "Anyway," she said, then cleared her throat before saying, "that's why the chicken nuggets became projectiles." There was a four-heartbeat awkward silence, in which Andrew slurped up the last of the shake and deposited the empty cup on Matt's tray.

Then, without offering anything at all by way of an acknowledgement or farewell, Andrew turned and started walking toward the cafeteria exit.

Dan blinked, watching him go. When she looked at Neil, the stir-fry was gone and his hands were tucked into his own back pockets as he rocked back on his heels, watching Andrew walk away with a disgustingly fond look on his face. Before Dan could even think to comment, Neil caught her eye and flashed a small smirk. "Don't worry, he forgives you." Then he, too, started to walk away.

Except, when he got about five paces away he called over his shoulder, "And not all math puns are bad. Sum of them are pretty good."

It took a moment for that to sink in, then she sank down into her chair with a groan, burying her face in her hands as she tuned out Matt's triumphant "HA!".

This fucking team would be the death of her.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #dan wilds #matt boyd #wholesome foxes #my writing

[cloudlessly-light]

Hello! I read your recent one shot with Hotchniss and the team being out and loved it. Now I want to request something similar. Like they’re both a little tipsy with the team and tell them dirty details. Em starts with how many orgasms she had in one night and they can’t stop…🫠 make it as dirty as you want 🤭

A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy this fic as well! Title: All I see is us Summary: Emily shared too much about their sex life. Aaron blames the tequila. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,1k Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, consumption of alcohol

Thinking back the tequila had been a bad idea, Aaron realizes as comes back from the bar and catches the end of Emily’s sentence.

“… In one night it was 6 but if we count a whole day, I think we’re way past double digits.”

He places the glasses on the table while JJ and Penelope both utter words of surprise.

“What are we talking about?” He asks like he doesn’t already know, the proud look Dave sends him across the table mixed with Emily’s smirk more than enough for him to go on.

“Orgasms.” She says and he tries to keep the smirk off his own face. “Specifically how many times you’ve made me come in a day.”

“Emily…” He chastises but his girlfriend doesn’t seem bothered by his slight embarrassment. Aaron continues for a few minutes to try and keep Emily from spilling every detail of their previously very private sex life. He realizes after the fourth question Emily answers without a moment of hesitation that he won’t be able to stop her and instead grabs the beer in front of him and downs it. He loved Emily, loved even the worst parts of her, but she was stubborn and hardheaded and apparently getting her to stop talking once she had started was impossible.

“It’s not like the girls wouldn’t have found out anyways.” Emily says as she leans into his side, the warmth of his body always something she was in search for.

“And Garcia would have told me, right baby girl?” Derek grinned at him, not even trying to hide how much he was enjoying watching Aaron squirm.

“Yeah and he would have told Spence so really, Dave would have been the only one out of the loop and that is not fair.” Penelope continues while the rest laugh.

“You say that like Emily hasn’t already told me all of this.” Dave shrugs and Emily laughs at the outrage from the women at the table.

“So really honey, just go with it.” Emily pats his thigh and gives him a kiss that he falls into easily. His hand tightens on her waist and when he pulls back he can see that she’s enjoying this, that telling their friends about them was turning her on. So he decided to go with it, lets himself fall into the comfort of friends and ignores the fact that they’re coworkers.

“Did she tell you about the time she showed up at my apartment dressed in nothing but a trench coat?”

“Emily, you did not?!” Penelope looked at her, mouth open and eyes wide as she looks at her friend in disbelief.

“What? He was mad at me and I was horny, what’s a girl to do?” She smirks and Derek laughs right along with her, pride oozing out of him. “He ripped the coat as well, I had nothing but his clothes to wear the next day.” Aaron kisses her temple and she can feel his body responding to the memory of that night.

“Luckily you look good in my clothes.”

“I look good in everything.”

“Okay so I have to ask, where in the office have you done it except in your office?” JJ asks, blue eyes staring intently at them.

“Who said we have…”

“In the supply closet on the fourth floor, in Strauss’s office and of course we just had to try out Dave’s desk.”

“Aaron Hotchner I knew you lied to me when I asked about the marks!” Dave tries to scold them but it only makes all of them laugh. “You’re buying me a new desk.” The older man mutters and Aaron nods in agreement.

“Wait, are we all just forgetting about the Strauss part? When did this happen?” Derek asks before taking a swig of his beer.

“Which time?” Emily smirks around the straw of her drink, her dark eyes meeting her friends who looks almost giddy.

“I saw you once.” Spencer says out of nowhere, the youngest having kept quiet so far during the conversation. “You sneaked out and your shirt was hanging out of your pants,” He looks at Aaron with something resembling relief. “I thought you were having an affair with Strauss because it was before we knew about you guys, but then Emily was hiding a hickey only a few minutes later and I figured it was her you were with.”

“Wait that was months before we told you.” Aaron looks at the younger man as he remembered the day he was talking about.

“I’m good with secrets.” He answers easily and JJ hits him on the arm.

“You didn’t tell us? Not even me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” Spencer shrugs and the blonde gives him a look of fake annoyance before turning back to Emily and Aaron.

“Have you tied him up yet?”

Spencer spits out his drink while Dave bursts out laughing at the face Aaron makes.

“No, she’s not tying me up.” His eyebrows furrow as he looks at Emily who avoids his gaze, her cheeks slightly flushed. “However,” He starts and he sees her head whip around at the tone in his voice “she enjoys being tied down and blindfolded.”

“See that doesn’t surprise me at all.” Dave says while Emily blushes harder. “You reek of kink, Bella.”  

*

“I’m just saying, Monday will kill us both.” Aaron says as he unlocks the door to their shared home, Emily walking in ahead of him and he’s quick to follow.

“Are you mad that I told our friends just how well you fuck me?” She smirks at the heated stare in his eyes as her arms wrap around his neck and he pulls her against him by a hold on her hips.

“No,” He mutters against her lips as he backs her up through the house and towards their bedroom. “I do think it’s about time we beat 6 though, don’t you?”

Emily laughs with a shake of her head, kisses him quickly and she feels his grip harden on her hips.

“Honey, that might kill us both.” She turns in his arms, tugs him along with her up the stairs and turns the second they’re safely upstairs. “So how about we fuck, go to bed, and then we try to break the record tomorrow?”

Aaron smiles into another kiss, this one needier than the one before as Emily grips his tie and pulls him with her. His own hands find the hem of her shirt, gets it over her head before they’re even in their bedroom, her bra soon following.

When they fall onto the bed a mess of tangled limbs and desperate kisses they’re both naked and panting and the pent-up arousal from the last few hours is finally released. Emily rolls on top of him, grinds against his hard shaft and moans as her clit drags along his heated skin. Aaron is gripping at her, chases her lips with his own as calloused fingers pull on nipples and dig into soft skin.

“Ride me.” He grunts and she straightens above him, giving him a view of her body as she slowly rises on her knees. She jerks him quickly, aligns him with her center and when she sinks down on him the sound rumbling from his chest can’t be described as anything but guttural.

“Fuck you feel good.” She says through labored breathing, her body still needing a moment to get used to the stretch of him. She rolls her hips, watches the way Aaron watches her as she starts to move on top of him. Her hands fall to his chest as she rides him harder, enjoys every delicious inch of him inside of her.

“That’s it, fuck you look good like this.” He whispers, head falling back at the feeling of her soaked center around him, his hands falling to her hips. “Gorgeous thing.”

She whimpers at the praise, her hips buckling in response and he smirks knowingly at her. His hands are tightening on her body, helps her move faster on top of him and she arches in pleasure. Aaron takes advantage, sucks a hard nipple between his lips and tugs gently on it with his teeth,

“Fuck.” She hisses at the slight pain but it does nothing but spur her on. She grinds on his lap as his mouth lavished her chest, she feels him buckling up against her, fucking into her as she chases her release.

He feels her clenching around him, feels her body tensing on his lap and he lets go of her nipple to be able to look at her. Her bottom lip is sucked between her teeth, eyes hooded and needy and fuck him if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Make yourself come, soak my cock baby.” He lets go of her hip with one hand but continues to push up against her, his feet planted on the bed for leverage. His hand moves to hold the back of her neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow of her throat and she looks at him with a whine falling from her lips. “Do it, let me watch you come. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.”

Emily crashes into her orgasm only a few seconds later, her body tensing and arms giving out as she lets him fuck her through it, his words of encouragement low and dark against her ear. He doesn’t stop until her thighs have stopped trembling and her breathy moans become quiet. She lifts her head enough to kiss him, her tongue licking into his mouth and swallowing his groan as he turns them around until he’s hovering above her.

“You always make me feel so good.” She whispers, voice raspy and quiet as he presses gentle kisses along his shoulder and neck.

“Again.” He grunts with a rough thrust that makes her fingers dig into his arms. “One more time.” His eyes meet hers and she’s nodding without even realizing as he starts to fuck into her with heavy thrusts.

Emily licks over his racing pulse, muffles her own sounds against his neck as he thrusts hard and deep, revels in his own grunts and low growls of pleasure against her ear. Then he’s changing the angle of his hips and his hand sneak between them and his fingers are on her clit, rubbing in tight circles and her whole body reacts.

“Don’t stop, Aaron fuck it’s so good, you feel so good, I’m so close.” She rambles, her words mumbled and incoherent and it makes him double his efforts as his own release builds by every thrust inside of her.

It’s only a few minutes before Emily comes again, her legs wrapped around him and nails digging into his skin hard enough to break it, but he barely notices it, not when she’s gasping his name in pleasure. The feeling of her clenching center pushes him over the edge with her, his grunt muffled against her shoulder as they tremble together.

Emily doesn’t let go of him even after they’ve calmed and he’s gone slack, refuses to put even an inch of space between them as he rolls them around easily. She smiles when he kisses her forehead and then angles her face to kiss her on the lips.

“So, we’re spending the tomorrow and Sunday breaking the record huh?”

“Yes, we are.” He grins, mind already racing to every toy they have and how much he’ll enjoy using every single one of them.

*

“So, did you have a good weekend?” Derek asks him that following Monday.

“Very, how about you?” Aaron answers as he pours himself and Emily a cup of coffee, wordlessly taking the Splenda the other man is already holding out.

“Nothing special.” He answers as he studies his boss with a raised eyebrow. “So, 6? Didn’t think you’d have it in you.” He laughs at the way Aaron’s eyebrow furrow, his movements stopped momentarily.

Aaron thinks about his options for a second, on one hand he could give Derek a stern look and tell him about professionalism in the workplace, but it seemed useless, especially after Friday night.

“Actually, 8.” He smirks, eyes drifting between the younger man and Emily standing by her desk talking to JJ.

“No way.” Derek’s gleeful smile turns into a look of doubt, his eyes moving from his boss to look at Emily as well. “There’s no way you…” His voice dies in his throat when he sees Emily walk towards them, her steps slow and careful, a slight limp in every step and she blushes when she catches both men looking at her.

“8 Morgan, that’s all I’m saying.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #hotchniss fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #hotch x emily

[dreamsontheirway]

Bait | Ch. 3 | S.R. x OC

Story Summary: Willow Brooks is a kind-hearted, but spitfire red head who treats each case with the upmost compassion and care. But when an unsub is targeting women who look just like her, she’s faced with the dilemma of acting as bait for the unsub. Spencer Reid, her boyfriend, is absolutely not keen on the idea. Warnings: mentions of the murder case Word Count: 0.9k

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It's almost time...

Duct tape and rope and scissors, all for my crime...

I'm doing this for you, magpie. Please fly back to me.

Please, my dearest, think of how happy I'll be.

-----

The ride on the jet was mostly silent and uneventful, except for Spencer’s hand on Willow’s leg. Spencer seemed to be doing alright, but she knew better. He had been on the same page of his book now for nearly five minutes. He would have normally read at least ten pages in that time. Willow chose not to say anything about it. She rose and made her way to the small kitchenette area on the jet.

“You okay?”

Emily Prentiss’ voice was an angelic break in the silence that had encompassed the atmosphere for nearly an hour. Willow smiled at her.

“Yes, I’m fine. Spencer on the other hand, I’m not quite sure.”

Emily frowned slightly, and nodded in understanding.

“He’ll be alright, he’s just scared. I think he’s mostly processed everything with Maeve and with, well me, but that trauma response is still there. He just needs time to process.”

Willow nodded. Emily Prentiss was wise beyond her years, and Willow appreciated the clarity and the advice.

“Thanks, Emily,” she spoke, and flashed her a solemn smile.

“Anytime.” Emily smiled softly at her before taking her coffee and taking her seat.

Willow prepared her own coffee consisting of cream and two sugars before making her way back to her designated seat beside Spencer. He looked up from his book, of which he had finally made it to the next page, and smiled at her. She could see fear and sadness behind his eyes, and it broke her heart.

"Hi sweetheart," Spencer cooed, using his pet name for her. He often did not use pet names when they were in public, and Willow picked up on this, noting it.

Willow smiled, and curled up next to him. Spencer placed his book down, and enveloped her in his sweater-clad arms. He craned his neck and reached down to place a soft kiss atop her head.

"I love you," Spencer cooed. "So much."

-----

The jet landed safely in Rochester, and everyone piled into the SUVs to drive to the local police department. Upon arriving, the team got set up in a large roundtable room, to which they began setting up the materials. Hotch began reviewing the information that they had gathered thus far.

"What we know is that this unsub cuts off a strand of the victim's red hair in the same location; behind the ear. We also know that so far, they have dumped the bodies in alleyways."

"The sentimental value of the hair could suggest a woman, but the harshness of leaving them in alleyways, especially near dumpsters, is inconsistent with that of a female unsub," Spencer chimed in, his brows furrowed in thought.

Agent Hotchner nodded in agreement before continuing.

"We can only assume that he finds his victims in a social setting, like a bar or nightclub. That's where we'll start." Hotch looked at Willow then, nodding curtly. She nodded back, acknowledging her involvement in the developing plan.

She could see Spencer's jaw tense and pulsate from across the table. As soon as Hotch motioned for everyone to be dismissed, he spoke up.

"Hotch, can I please talk to you?" Spencer's voice was poisonous, and Willow feared what he was going to say to their boss, but she exited the roundtable nonetheless.

"Yes?" Hotch spoke, fully expecting what Spencer was about to say to him.

Spencer merely looked at him, pleadingly, at first. His fists resting at either side clenching and unclenching in frustration.

"How can you do this?"

Aaron Hotchner sighed in exasperation. He had expected this. Aaron resonated with Spencer's wanting to protect Willow. Spencer didn't have a lot of people in his life aside from the team, and Hotch knew how precious she was to him.

"Reid, you know this isn't personal. As your unit chief, I have to do whatever it takes to catch this unsub, and this plan is not an unreasonable one."

Hotchner's brows furrowed in a thick line and he did not break eye contact with Spencer. The young genius maintained his scowl, his jaw tensing, before he stormed out of the roundtable room, slamming the door in his fury.

"Spence!"

Willow exclaimed, surprised by her boyfriend's harsh outburst when he stormed into the center of the police department. Spencer continued straight past her and out the main doors.

Willow followed suit, having to pick up a light jog due to her boyfriend's long legs carrying him much quicker than her.

"Spencer, please!"

He stopped then, hearing the anguish in her voice. Willow suffered from extreme, sometimes debilitating, anxiety and Spencer tried his best to never be the cause for it. He was disappointed to think he had failed today.

He turned then, seeing light tears prick her eyes, from both the anxiousness and frustration.

"Spence," she cooed, and reached out to place her palm on the side of his face. Her eyes searched his frantically, trying desperately to find the source of his outburst. She had an idea, of course, but she was didn't know what him and their unit chief had talked about.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled, looking into her eyes. "This all just pisses me off."

"I know it does, and I'm sorry."

Willow and Spencer stood there, in the hallway of the Rochester police department, and enveloped one another in a tight hug.

-----

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[sheriff-caitlyn]

The Tour: part 4

It is unusual for a funeral to have such an air of expectation. 

The walls of Piltover - less than a decade old, built out of precaution and mountain-stone - are growing larger in view ahead. The bridges and gardens are growing more defined, and they will soon pass into the outer limits of Piltover City.

There are more officers present, now. They line the roads, batons and crossbows lowered but their hands ready, their eyes on the cart, on the tall figure who walks with the funeral procession and on the even taller construct venting steam beside him. The impromptu honour guard of Noxian soldiers are there to maintain the peace, also, marching in precise formation around the cart. Viktor and Blitzcrank are Zaunite citizens, and these Noxian soldiers have a contract to keep such citizenry safe. 

Caitlyn feels her vision constricting, until all she can see is the towers in the middle of the city, to the Hall of Four Winds, where the cart is bound. The sun is starting to set. The tour must end before nightfall. They have to keep moving. But no-one wants the Machine Herald in the city. No-one wants a Zaunite - let alone one of his reputation - to cross the bridge and enter Piltover proper.

Limits. Everywhere, limits.

The cart pulls up before the bridge, as William regretfully bars the way. He holds no weapon, but he doesn’t need one. He’s an officer, he has authority; he’s a Brigham boy, and he has the Blood. “Shirra. Nae further, fer a mo’.”

Vi hops down from the cart, fists clenched. “Th’fuck is this?”

“Y’know we cannae let him in.” He looks towards Viktor. “Public safety.”

“He’s with us,” Vi says, her voice a growl. “He’s with Mum.”

Caitlyn feels the weight of Piltover’s public safety on her shoulders again, pressing what little air there is in her lungs out of it. She feels her face pinching, those tears welling, threatening to start spilling again. She has to agree with the policies that she put into place. She has to tell Viktor to leave, that he cannot be welcome here.

Blitzcrank shifts forward. “MY CREATOR AND I HAVE COME TO PAY RESPECTS TO TRISHA LITTLEFORD HUXLEY THE PROFESSOR AND TECHMATURGIST. SHE WAS KIND TO ME. I AM A PILTOVIAN CITIZEN, I HAVE THE RIGHT TO ENTER.”

“That y’do, saer, but -- ”

“IF MY CREATOR STAYS WITH ME, AS WE PAY OUR RESPECTS, WILL THAT NOT BE SUFFICIENT?”

Vi looks ready to deck her fellow officer across the face. “You want an officer on his tail, huh? Will that be enough?”

“He cannae enter, Vi, y’know that.” He’s apologetic but firm. A proper protector of the peace. No exceptions can be made: that’s how Caitlyn and her team keep Piltover safe.

The rest of the Huxley clan climb down from the cart. Elliot is protesting the holdup. The cat yowls, hackles rising, and the bullocks shift impatiently. Aaron is fighting his grief and demanding the cart just go. Vi is leading up to saying something worse than confrontational to William, spoiling for a fight. Blitzcrank is being loud, in voice and in vents of steam, refusing to leave Viktor and refusing to go home without seeing this through to the end. Caitlyn feels choked on what she knows she has to say, what she has to do, torn between being the sheriff and being a daughter. Silently, Viktor looks at her, unmoving and masked; he wants to just leave, perhaps, to avoid this matter entirely, but he cannot look away from her. Will she betray him, too?

In the midst of rising voices and rising tension, a wind blows, a sudden puff that could be an exasperated sigh. It’s cold, and there’s something in it that makes the family pause, frozen, and then they sigh together, united. Even those standing in the circle and beyond feel it, the way the tension is immediately shunted away. An answer has been provided, a solution to a problem; there’s always a solution.

It’s a silent agreement, shared between the five who rode on the cart. But it’s Aaron who takes a deep breath and shares the decision. “Blitzcrank. You come with us. Cait--”

She nods. She steps closer to Viktor, her heels snapping together in salute as she takes her place at his side.

“-- you come back for the midnight watch, but you stay here with Viktor. S’at okay, kiddo?”

Caitlyn nods. She has stood guard over her mother before the tour; Trisha and Caitlyn’s relationship was often marked with time apart, so it would not be too much of a grand breach of tradition.

Vi gives her partner a pained look - Piltover’s Finest doesn’t like to be split up - but the Enforcer knows the reasoning why. She smiles, or attempts to, in order to give Caitlyn’s wavering expression some kind of support. “Ain’t no-one better to keep everyone safe, Cupcake.” Everyone. Not just Piltover. “I’ll have you a tea ready. Or a coffee, if you need it.”

“Thank you.” Quiet. Strained. Genuine.

Aaron takes a steadying breath, galvanised for a moment. He looks at Viktor. “Thank you for comin’. I’m sorry you can’t come further, but... I’m glad you came this far, son.”

Blitzcrank looks to Viktor. “ARE YOU COMFORTABLE TO STAY UNDER GUARD WITH THE SHERIFF, CREATOR?”

Viktor shifts. “Will you be safe?” His words are strained, too, the idea that he might lose Blitzcrank a second time clearly forefront in his mind, the grief of the family an uncomfortable atmosphere, Caitlyn standing by his side like a friend rather than a bodyguard.

“WILL YOU?” Blitzcrank looks at Caitlyn, pointedly. He barely knows her, after all, and she is the one in charge of all these officers with batons and crossbows and rifles. Even dressed in mourning black, she is still the Sheriff of Piltover.

Vi flexes to answer Viktor’s question. “Anyone tries to step to him’s gonna answer to Law...” She turns and flexes her other arm. “... an’ Order.”

Elliot gently shoves the woman, a playful push that ends in a half-hug as the grief settles back around the lot of them. “The funeral’ll end before midnight. We’ll make sure your brass boy comes back to you.” He looks at Caitlyn, then at Viktor again. “I think you can trust my sister, yeah?”

Viktor considers the questions and offered statements. Then, stiffly, he nods. It might be the best that Piltover can offer him. He’s already come so far; he’s already been shown more kindness than anyone might have expected.

Aaron offers his hand to shake, once more. The left, this time, flesh and blood in the Zaunite style. Viktor shakes, his gaze drawn to the intricacies of Aaron’s right hand. There is no time to talk about this; no time, no place, no Trisha. But they have met, at last, the two of them, and it was well.

“We will wait at Baker’s Hill.” Caitlyn gestures to the landmark, not too far parallel to them: the tree, the bench, the small hilltop. There, she and Viktor will be well within view. Any threat the Machine Herald might pose will be neutralised by her authority, and the space between the hill and the city walls. 

Most of the family climb back into the cart. The officers step aside to let it pass, then fall into place as honour guard. Caitlyn stands at stiff attention, watching them go. Her shoulders shake. Her expression wavers.

Viktor watches Blitzcrank raise a hand in brief farewell, before the construct follows the cart across the bridge. He continues to watch, stiff and still, as the train of mourners begin to file past himself and Caitlyn. No doubt he can feel the distrustful incredulous glances, the crowd’s confusion about why Caitlyn would put herself at risk, to leave herself with the danger that is the Machine Herald. Maybe he even sees Jayce, in the crowd, at the head of the procession, moving in a stiff way, bearing consequence and inaction on his broad shoulders.

Caitlyn’s shoulders shake. She’s breaking. She has to keep the peace, and enforce the laws she helped to write. “To Baker’s Hill,” she says, quietly. She puts a hand on Viktor’s arm, and together they turn away and make for the gentle slope. She’s shaking and her face is pinching and bending, more tears spilling down her cheeks. She will deal with the fallout of this decision another time, when the funeral is over and she has the presence of mind to explain the authority she bears.

She feels Viktor’s third arm flick, then feels his cloak lightly twitch across her back, shielding her somewhat from the eyes of those below. She hums, shakily, quiet gratitude. She doesn’t have the willpower for anything else.

They both turn to watch the procession, when they reach the top of the hill. The skies are darkening. The star-rods of Piltover are flaring to brightness as the shadows lengthen. The cart went its ways through the old stone streets, heading for its final destination, as tens of thousands of Piltovians come to mourn. The city is so bright, and there are glimpses of leaves and vines in every refraction, in the gleams of light that reach and linger in the low clouds like a gentle aurora borealis.

“Everything Mother does,” Caitlyn says, her voice level and even, watching the lights, “Is to make the world a brighter place.”

Does, did. Is, was.

Caitlyn doubles over, all but collapsing onto the park bench with her head between her knees, as all the grief she restrained now pours out of her.

#dadeni days #coming to a close #trisha #aaron #elliot #caitlyn #vi #viktor #blitzcrank #piltover builder #william #death

[thedancingnerdmermaid]

Identity Crisis Pt 3

SHOW/CHARACTERS: Criminal Minds; Hotch x swat!fm!reader; SWAT characters

WARNINGS:18+ MINORS DBI, language, angst, violence, identity theft, threats against a child, usual CM case stuff, death penalty, death, fluff, kissing

Notes: Reader is essentially Hondo’s character on SWAT except female. Hondo doesn’t exist in this because Derek Morgan is still with BAU in this one. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE CHARACTERS

Part One Part Two

PART THREE

Hotch stood silently looking over the two people outside his door.

“You know, last time SWAT showed up unannounced here, I was held at gun point and dragged out in handcuffs in front of my son.” He stated bitterly.

“Agent Hotchner, I truly apologize. We were under orders.” Hicks stated apologetically. “I tried to convince them that you had not done the things they were accusing you of.”

“And for what it's worth, that wasn't my team and I. We were off that day. Hicks can confirm that while I follow orders, I refuse to send an armed SWAT team into a room with kids if there is not an immediate threat.” You offered trying to ease the tension. “Please. I believe you and your son may be in danger. We want to help. Please just hear me out.”

Hotch sighed and opened the door allowing you and Hicks in. Standing in the living room you glanced around. This was clearly a man that loved his son.

“What is this all about?” Hotch said crossing his arms.

“Well, Agent Hotchner. I went on a date tonight.” Your started and he furrowed his brows clearly confused as to where this was going. Continuing you said, “with a man who called himself Aaron Hotchner of the FBI's BAU.” A look of surprise followed by anger took over his features. He gestured for you and Hicks to sit. You told him everything from the coffee shop, the napkin, the uneasy feeling, the Google search and background check to the date.

“We could have taken him in right then. However, I know if someone was impersonating me, I'd want a part in taking them down. Also we wanted to make sure there wasn't something bigger at play here. It was when he mentioned details about your son that the Commander and I felt that you needed to be notified now instead of waiting until the morning.” You finished.

“I appreciate you both coming to me. Although I would have preferred to know as soon as my identity was being used but I understand.” Hotch sighed. “I need to call my team. We need to find him and...” he was cut off by you.

“Actually, Agent Hotchner, I have two of my guys on him. They are keeping their distance but tailing him.” you stated proudly.

“Call me Hotch or Aaron. I'm going to get my son and we can all head to the BAU. Can you have your team except the two tailing the UNSUB meet us at my office?” He asked looking to you.

“Yes, sir. But UNSUB?” You questioned.

“You say suspect, we say UNSUB or unknown subject.” He said. He was about to say something else but was cut off by Hicks.

“Y/L/N, I want you to ride in with Agent Hotchner to offer additional protection to him and his son. I'll grab your go bag and the rest of the team and meet you two at the BAU.” Hicks ordered,

“Yes, sir.” You agreed.

Hicks left and it was just you and Aaron.

“Is there anything I can help you with to make moving the little guy a little easier?” you smiled softly. Hotch realized he was staring at you and never answered when a confused look crossed your face.

“Oh. Uhm. It's okay. I got it. If you could just handle the doors as we go.” He said with a small smile.

“Yes, sir.” you nodded in agreement.

“Sergeant Y/L/N?” He questioned.

“Yes, sir?”

“Please stop calling me sir.” he smiled. “Please call me Aaron.”

“Agent Hotchner, you outrank me. I'd feel rude or disrespectful calling you by your first name... sir.” You exaggerated the last part clearly holding back a giggle.

Hotch smiled brightly, “Well, call me Hotch then. That's how my team refers to me, deal?”

“Yes, sir. Agent Hotch. Ugh Hotch, Sorry.” you tried to hide your embarrassment at stumbling over your words. Hotch let out a small laugh and headed to presumably gather he and his son's things. Before he picked up Jack from bed he called Jess, his ex sister in law he told you, to let her know what was happening and that he and Jack would be at the BAU until everything was sorted out. You grabbed one of the bags he packed and the three of you headed to the BAU.

The members of the BAU team, Jess, Commander Hicks, and your team (minus the two following the UNSUB) were already there when you three arrived. Agent Hotchner or Hotch, as he kept reminding you to call him, placed a sleeping Jack on the couch in his office. Jess stayed with him. The two teams had already introduced themselves to each other. After you and Hotch left his office you headed down the hall to the conference room. There you were introduced to Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Doctor Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, and Emily Prentiss.

“Agent Rossi! It's an honor to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your books and your work.” You tried to contain your fangirling.

Rossi just smiled, “Thank you. And thank you for letting us know what is going on. This team is a family.”

“Of course, sir. That's how we roll in SWAT too.” You said proudly.

“Okay, I'm sorry. I just have to, Sergeant Y/L/N, I'm a huge fan. Hell yeah first woman in DC Metro SWAT and first ever female SWAT team leader in the country. That's incredible. You're a badass!” Prentiss gushed.

Laughing softly you responded, “thank you. That really means a lot. It's an honor.”

“Let's get started.” Commander Hicks ordered.

You, Hicks, and Hotch go over all the details again so that everyone is on the same page.

“Garcia, run facial recognition on the camera footage from the coffee shop and restaurant. We need to know who this guy is.” Hotch ordered. “Also, Sergeant Y/L/N already set up a second date with the UNSUB for tomorrow night. We have 15 hours to figure out who this guy is, what he wants, and what it has to do with me.”

“Is there a place where I can change?” You asked Hotch.

“Yes. Right this way.” He placed his large warm hand on the small of your back guiding you to the locker rooms. The contact sent electricity through your body.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He said.

“Will do. Thanks.” After changing into jeans and a simple plain V-neck t-shirt you headed back to the conference room.

Hotch had paired everyone up. Each BAU agent was assigned a SWAT officer as a partner so everyone's strengths could work together. Hotch assigned you and him partners. You certainly didn't mind. Throughout the night into the early hours of the morning, you two had stolen many glances and smiles at each other. Both of your teams noticed and shared knowing smiles.

PART FOUR

MASTERLIST

***Feedback always appreciated

Tags by request: @eternal-silvertongued-prince @hotchnerxo @yoshigguk

#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #swat #bau #reblog #thomas gibson

[fangirlings-things]

To get the job done

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Word count: 5.1K

Summary: going undercover as a couple with your boss in order to serve as bait for an unsub, definitely should have been more... professional

Warnings: smut, sexual innuendos, chocking, language, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and couldn't shake this idea out of my head lol. this is my first hotch smut ever written so I hope this is good. hope you guys enjoy this, lots of love!!!

TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GIF IS NOT MINE

“It’s not working”

Between the loud music resonating through the nightclub and the proximity of civilians who shouldn’t hear your words, you had come closer to Hotch to speak, so that he could fully understand what you were saying. As you did, mouth close to his ear, you were able to smell the scent of perfume coming from him. That was a good smell.

You both had done your best to look incredibly good on that night, for the operation the BAU had developed alongside the local police department on the last two days. As the unsub had been targeting couples on that nightclub specifically and there were no bodies to sustain the accusation even though he had been the last one seen with all those people, the best approach was to use a bait and catch him in the act.

At first you believed you were going in undercover with Morgan, what you guys had already done before when the situation called for it. But according to the profile and the fact that all the previous disappeared male victims were white, the team agreed that it would be better to send Hotch, and that was how you ended up playing couple with your boss, something you were sure shouldn’t be making you as nervous as it was.

“We've only been here for half an hour, (Y/N)” Hotch replied, eyes wondering around a bit before he focused on you and smiled tenderly, placing a hand on your cheek. You had been exchanging soft touches like that, to blind in between the other couples present. “Maybe he isn’t here yet”

You sighted heavily, but nodded in agreement, because there was a good chance he was right. For another hour, you and Hotch kept on to your disguise. You smiled at each other, even danced a bit, which really made you laugh because you had never pictured your boss doing such thing, and he had managed to laugh a bit as well. At some point, you felt his hands circling your waist and pulling you close towards his own body. You couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine in that moment.

Time passed and passed, and except for a woman that got close to flirt with Hotch that he politely dismissed by holding your hand, nothing happened. The unsub didn’t approach you, like he had done to the other missing couples. Only then, a thought occurred to you and you remembered something important about the abductions. Or more exactly, previously to those.

“Hotch, we forgot something” you said, slowly pulling him by the arm to one of the corners of the club, like you where just getting away from the crowd to make out a bit.

“What?” he asked, frowning while trying to keep a relaxed expression on his features. Under the shinning lights of the nightclub, his short hair and white shirt with the two first buttons open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked extremely handsome. Not that you hadn’t noticed it already on a daily basis, but then, he was your boss. On this night… he was playing your boyfriend. You had some kind of permission to allow yourself to think such thing.

“The unsub's method. What made him choose those couples instead of all the others” you said, pressing your back against the wall and bringing him close to you with a smile, feeling other people’s eyes on you both. His hands found your waist and stayed there, unmoving. “He likes to play the gentleman before actually abducting the couples” you told Hotch, hands running up his uncovered by the rolled sleeves arms. “Witnesses said they saw the male and the female getting into some kind of discussion, that the men were sometimes violent with their girlfriends, so the unsub would come and defend her” you saw that he had understood what you meant even before you said the words. “You have to be violent with me”

“So he gets to play the good guy with the women before abducting them and the boyfriends, to later kill them both” he completed your line of thought and you nodded, agreeing. “(Y/N)…” Hotch then began, hesitant. You saw the way he squeezed his lips on a thin line and sighted heavily, looking around again before getting his gaze fixed on you. “are you sure this is what we have to do?”

“I am” you guaranteed, eyes fixed on his as seriousness filled your tone. Hotch stared at you for a long moment as if he was thinking about it, but then he pulled back, taking his hands away from you and stepping back like he suddenly wanted distance. Fearing it would blow your cover, you looked at him even more seriously now. “Hotch? Come on! You have to…”

Before you could finish your sentence, expressing your indignation for his hesitation to get the job done, he closed the gap between you both once again, body now fully pressed against yours. His breath was on your face, heavy and hot. One of his hands, had gone to your throat. He was squeezing your neck, fingertips digging into your skin just enough to put some pressure on it.

“Why can’t you ever stop talking” his voice came out rough, irritated. With widened eyes because of the fact that he was suddenly all upon you, you realized that Hotch was playing along. He was following the plan. And really, you wanted to think about the unsub, but it proved to be really hard when you had Hotch’s hand around your throat and his breath on your face. The scent of his perfume, so close… you felt intoxicated by him in the best way possible.

“Hotch…” you began, glad that he had to be the one leading the actions and not you. Honestly, professionalism was the last thing on your mind in that moment and even though you knew it was wrong, you couldn’t help it.

“Shut up” he replied in the same instant, which made you go instantly quiet, as his hand increased the pressure on your neck just a bit. The fake anger was there in his voice but in his eyes, there was no such thing. They were cautious, inspecting your features to see if you were comfortable with this. You stared back at him silently and he understood, that you were good to keep up the little scene, which set him into action once again. “Just shut the fuck up for a moment” his hand moved further up your throat, brushing against your skin smoothly as it went. He only stopped when he was finally able to touch your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes on your lips as he did so. “Just shut up”

And right and there, you did something you couldn’t have predicted.

You moaned.

A low, breathy moan that you silently wished for him to not have heard, but of course he had, being pressed up against you like that. You closed your eyes for a long moment, embarrassed and desperately wanted to disappear. You had just moaned because of the hand of your boss around your throat. That wasn’t something you felt quite pride of. Still, you forced yourself to open your eyes and stare at Hotch. His eyes… they were unreadable. Even though you were a profiler, you had no idea what was on his mind. None.

Before you could think of anything to say, suddenly a man approached you and Hotch, getting too close. He was extremely tall, had brown eyes and blond hair. There was a calm expression on his features, the kind of expression you had often seen in the faces of unsubs when they talked about their crimes. “Hey, you’re hurting the lady, man!”

As both of your attentions were on him now, that being the unsub the police had already locked up but then let go because of the lack of evidences, Hotch released his hand from your throat, but then he grabbed your forearm with it, keeping you in place. When he spoke, he used the best angered voice he had. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. Why don’t you leave?”

The unsub focused his gaze on you, ignoring Hotch like he hadn't even spoken. “Is he hurting you?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), am I hurting you?” Hotch said turning to you too, provoking the unsub by forcing you to share the full attention he clearly wanted.

“No” you replied, eyes going from Hotch to the unsub. Looking into the latter's eyes, you forced yourself to give out a little smile. “I’m fine, but thank you” and as to reassure him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.

You heard Hotch take a deep breath by your side, annoyed by you touching the other man, and then he gripped really tightly at your arm. “We are leaving” and then without warning, he began to drag you towards the exit. You didn’t have to look back to know that the unsub was following you both.

“The others are outside, right?” you whispered to Hotch, as he continued to drag you along between the great amount of people.

“Yes, Morgan has a S.W.A.T team on the roof top of the next building” he said back, while pushing open the door of the nightclub. Instantly, the cold air of the night outside the place made you shiver, because of the great amount of exposed skin from your dress. Without saying anything else, he continued to drag you along. Seconds later, you heard the door being opened and closed again.

“Hey!” a voice that clearly belonged to the unsub said and you and Hotch stopped, turning around to look at him. He had pulled out a gun, and had it pointed directly to your face. “Come here you both, or I’ll shoot her right in her pretty face”

“Alright man, take it easy!” Hotch let go of you, raised his hands in the air and motioned for you to walk alongside him. You placed the most scared look you could on your face as you walked towards the unsub.

When you and Hotch had already closed half of the distance between you both and the unsub, armed agents appeared from every corner of the empty, barely illuminated parking lot, pointing their guns to the unsub.

“Richard Jones, put the gun down right now!” Morgan’s firm voice echoed through the parking lot as he screamed, standing just a few feet away from the man.

The unsub looked from the many agents to you both and seeing the controlled expressions on your faces, he clenched his jaw, filled with anger. “You two are cops, aren’t you?” hearing the instability in his voice, Hotch took a step forward to stand in front of you, shielding you with his own body. “Son of a…” the unsub took a enraged step forward and then the sound of a shot filled the night. In the same instant, the unsub fell to the ground, dropping the gun and using the now free hand to press on his shoulder, where the bullet had hit him.

Morgan quickly ran towards the fallen unsub and kicked the gun away from his reach. “You two good?” he asked without turning around, still pointing his gun to the now unharmed unsub.

“Yeah, we’re fine” you said, after touching Hotch’s shoulder for a moment. He just nodded, fine. Good.

The ambulance came after ten minutes to take the unsub to the closest hospital. Morgan talked to the local officers to decide which one would accompany Jones there and Reid and Prentiss had just congratulated you for the good job. Rossi, talked to Hotch a few feet away from where you were. When Spencer and Emily walked away to verify some last things with the paramedics, Hotch approached you.

“Good job” he said, hands on the pockets of his pants. The professionalism was back, now that the operation was done. The boss was back like he had never left.

“Thanks. You too” you gave him a smile, eyes on the paramedics that were just putting Jones inside the ambulance. “That’s how he did it. He threatened the women to make the men comply to whatever he said”

“He envied the men, they were always his real target. He overpowered the men and probably made them watch whatever he did to the girlfriends” Hotch said, also looking at the unsub.

“Do you think we will find the bodies?” you asked, frustrated. Now, Jones could be charged for the crimes but the families of the victims had nothing to hold on to. No bodies to bury. The thought was awful.

“I don’t think so” Hotch replied, as clear and honest as ever. The sound of the ambulance's doors being closed made itself heard and then Hotch sighted and put himself in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that beautifully defined the muscles of his arms. “(Y/N), about what happened in there…” for a second you thought he was going to mention your moan and all air left your lungs. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly. Gripping you like that”

“Oh, you didn’t” you rushed yourself into saying, trying to calm down your still heavy beating heart. You gave him another smile and a shrug. “We just did what we had to do to get the job done, right?”

“(Y/N)!” Reid called you, standing close to one of the SUV's, motioning for you to come close.

You briefly touched Hotch’s arm. “Don’t worry, Hotch” and giving him one last friendly smile you walked away towards Reid, taking a deep breath as you did so. Being under Hotch’s stare had never been so intense, exciting and anxious all the same.

With every step you took, you wondered if you would ever be able to look at Hotch like you did before that night. Merely as your boss and a friend.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

It turned out, things weren’t the same anymore.

It had been a month since that case were you and Hotch had gone undercover together as a couple. A month. It always felt like it had happened on the previous day to the one you were living. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that night away from your mind.

Everytime Hotch would sit close to you at the jet and you would smell his perfume, you would inevitably close your eyes and remember the feeling of having his hands on your waist. When he would hand you a file and your hands would end up casually brushing against one another, you would remember having that same hand closed around your throat and that thought alone would make you have to hold back a whimper.

Truth was you wouldn’t be able to deny your attraction to your boss to anyone that asked about it. Thankfully though, you hadn’t wore wires on that night and no other members of the team had gone into the club. So, those moments had belonged only to you both. Your corrupted mind, was more than grateful for it.

“(Y/N), my love?” Garcia’s voice brought you back to reality, making you snap out of your thoughts and focus your eyes on hers. She was staring at you with a smile and curious eyes. “Now, you were daydreaming about some lucky sugar out there”

Cleaning your throat, you did your best to keep on a straight face. It was unbelievable how even though you daily spent your time with profilers, she could be more perceptive than all of them went it came to emotions and personal innuendos. “I’m sorry Penelope, I drifted away. Was is it?”

She stared at you with interested eyes for a few more moments before looking down at the table you were both sitting at for hours now, at the lobby of the hotel you had all booked in the city. “Well, I just finished doing all the background check I could get on the previous victims, like you guys asked me to” she handed you a folder, filled with information that certainly would be significant for the current investigation the team was working on. You were glad she had travelled with you all for this case.

“Penelope, you’re amazing” you grabbed the folder and took a few glares to the pages inside of it, before closing it again and looking back at her. “We should call it for the day and get some rest like the others”

“I’ll do that, I just have to check one last thing. Will you please spare me the trouble and take this to Hotch on your way to have some amazingly good sleep?” she pouted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist such a request.

“Sure” you said, thinking about the fact that you had just agreed on going to Hotch’s room to deliver him the folder in the middle of the night. You took a deep breath before standing up. “Goodnight, Penelope”

“Rest well, my lovely friend” she winked at you and you smiled back at her before making your way to the elevator. You were all staying on the same floor, so you pressed the bottom to the seventh floor and waited with a fast beating her inside the elevator, that seemed to get to the said floor too soon. Too fast.

Room 220. You stared at it's door for what seemed to be hours. You thought about Hotch inside. The fact that you were about to come in. Him, alone. Alone with you. Like you two had been on that nightclub.

Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on stopping those wondering thoughts and knocked on the door. The answer came seconds later, an 'enter' you would often hear at the office. Of course he had been waiting awake for the files. That was Hotch, after all.

Taking another deep breath you opened the door and your gaze immediately met Hotch, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest close to the table placed at the corner of the room. Pictures and other files filled it and he looked through it like always, searching for leads and trying to begin the building of the unsub's profile. He had removed his black suit and red tie, standing there with just a white shirt covering his upper body. Just like on the nightclub.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother, but Garcia asked me to bring you these files” you raised the folder in the air, a small polite smile on your lips as you did so.

“Thank you” he crossed the distance of the room towards you and stopped just two steps away. You handed him the folder, and he looked inside it for long moments before looking back to you so your eyes would meet. “Do you want to help me go over this knew information?”

You swallowed dry at the suggestion you hadn’t been expecting. Who needed to sleep when you could just spend time with the man you daydreamed about, right? This thought, got the next words out of your mouth. “Yeah, sure”

“Okay, close the door” Hotch said with that professional tone of his, nodding in the door's direction before turning around and going back to stand close to the table. You did close the door and then went to stand by him, looking at all the files splayed out in quite a mess. “I still haven’t been able to make any progress with the profile”

“Well, we’ve only been here for two days” you said, getting some of the crime scene pictures in your hands and looking attentively at them, searching for anything that might have passed your attentions before. “we don’t have much but we’ll get the job done, like we always do”

Then, Hotch chuckled. The sound was so unexpected and it happened to rarely that you instantly stopped looking at the photos, placed them back at the table and then turned with a frown to look at your boss, not being able to stop yourself from smiling a bit. “What?”

“Nothing, is just that…” he shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes not staring into yours. “we have been making a great team lately” and then he looked at you. And he must have recognized the conflicted expression on your features, because the intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much to bare. And still, you found yourself unable to look away.

“Yeah, we have” you found it within yourself to answer those simple three words and then it happened exactly like in the nightclub. Before you could even realize what was happening, Hotch got closer and closer until his body was almost touching yours. Painfully almost.

“Can I?” he asked, staring into your eyes with beautiful fixation. His breathing was heavy and it made you realize that you weren’t the only one nervous in that room. You just nodded, staring back at him with your heart beating so hard and fast inside your chest it seemed like it would explode. Slowly Hotch raised his eyes and placed them on your cheeks, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them gently. And then, even more slowly, he closed the gap between you both and touched your lips with his.

It wasn’t even a proper kiss. Just a brush of mouths. Curious, anxious, insecure. He brushed his lips against yours and stopped, as if giving you time to decide what to do. To have Hotch there like that, with you like you wanted him to be, it went to your head in a burst of delight and you were the one who urged forward and fully pressed your lips together, hands going to rest on his forearms. He tasted good. So unique, so fine.

You kissed slowly. Exploring, getting to know each other’s mouths little by little with tongues and lips. But then you got impatient, excited, and you pressed your lips more hardly against his, wanting to make those kisses as deep and breath taking as you could. Hotch responded immediately at that incentive, kissing you just as intensively as you wanted him to. And so, one of his hands slipped down to your throat and he squeezed it slightly, putting pressure. Such an amazing pressure. And it made you moan. At that point, after all those kisses, you didn’t even bother to try to repress it.

“I have been wanting to make you moan again since that night” Hotch said against your lips and that, actually made you moan again. Louder this time and it made his squeeze on your neck get tighter and if you were being honest, you weren’t having it any other way.

You kept on kissing, bodies fully pressed against one another, mouths devouring each other unstoppably until your hands found the buttons of his shirt and you started opening them. It seemed to take hours but you finally managed to slip the shirt out of him, the piece of clothing ending up on the floor just to be shortly joined by your own t-shirt.

Hotch’s hands then were on your waist, gripping at the bare skin of your hips in a way that made you weak. One of your hands was on his cheek and the other, played with the short hair at the back of his neck. Together you moved towards the bed, mouths only letting go to do so. You pushed Hotch to the bed and he sat at the edge of it, looking up at you breathless and with his mouth very reddened from the kisses. He was beautiful.

You moved to sit on his lap, hands on his neck and mouth back on his because you already missed it. Through the layers of your intimate clothes and both of your pants, you felt his hard member beneath you. As you kissed you pressed your body down into him, pressing his member, and his breath hissed. You smiled.

Hotch gripped your thighs with his hands firmly and flipped you both around, making you lay back on the bed as he got above you. He kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth and hands squeezing so tightly your thighs that you felt like you were going to burst.

His hands went to open the button of your jeans and you helped him get rid of it. Another piece on the floor. Then, after giving you a series of quick kisses, Hotch stood up from the bed and started to take out his own pants. You just watched him, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Liking the view?” he asked with a smirk, and oh, that was a version of Hotch you could easily get used to. The way he took out the pants and disposed it to the side, standing now in just black boxer briefs, eyes not leaving you not for a second, that was something you wanted to mark in your memory.

“How could I not?” you replied just when he knelt back on the bed and then, crawled his way to be on top of you again. Looking up at his face, you sighted. That was amazing. What was happening… you couldn’t have predicted it not even in your best dreams.

Hotch kissed you again, hands traveling to your back just so that he could undo your bra. One more piece gone. One of his hands slowly found your left breast and he caressed it in his hands, making you moan again and again. He kissed you. He kissed your breasts. He kissed you again. His hands caressed your skin unstoppably.

“Hotch…” you moaned his name when he began to give you small bites here and there, the feeling of your skin between his teeth making you suck in a breath. He probably noticed the desperation in your voice, because next thing you knew he was sliding his kisses down to your belly and then, he kissed your pussy from above your panties. “Hotch” his name was emitted from your mouth again, louder this time.

He took his time just kissing you like that, with that layer between his mouth and your intimacy. Torturing you to the most. When he found it proper he removed your panties using both of his hands and after discarding them just like he had done with his pants, he used his hands to spread your thighs and get his face close to your pussy. He kissed your thighs, ignoring your intimacy. You could feel his hot breath down there and it made you lose your mind. You could almost feel yourself dripping your wetness into the bed.

“Hotch!” you urged him to stop teasing, eyes shut and chest raising and falling incredibly fast due to your erratic breathing. The moan you gave out when his mouth finally came in contact with your pussy was obscene. Was loud and you did not give a damn about it because you had your boss's face between your legs and that was it. That was all you cared about right then.

He sure as hell knew what to do with his mouth. He kissed, sucked and he fucked you with his tongue, his saliva mixed with the wetness of your own body making you become a moaning mess. Your hands went to his short hair and you gripped tightly at it, pulling. You moaned again, and that made him moan a bit. Suddenly the feeling of his mouth was gone and you felt extremely disappointed. Just a bit more…

One of his fingers found it’s way inside your body and your moan was cut short by his mouth back on yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth and the thought alone almost made you come. After a couple seconds, another finger joined in and the feeling of having them coming in and out of your body was incredible. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling and gripping like you were holding yourself into dear life.

His movements were slow, calculated. The kisses were deep. At some point, you made it know you wanted more by sliding one of your hands down between both of your bodies and touching him through his briefs. He stopped kissing you, stopped the movements of his hand and looked into your eyes. You smiled at each other, and then he pulled back away from you to get rid of the last layer. The last piece ended on the floor.

You motioned to grab at his hard member, bit he held your wrist gently halfway and you frowned. “Another time. Right now” he came close again and with one of his hands, stroked your hair for a bit. “I want to make you feel good”

“Okay” you managed to say, already excited by the idea of 'another time'. You were certain, that was something you wanted to keep happening and for the look on Hotch’s face, he did too.

You both moaned together when he entered your body with his member. Finally. His mouth and fingers had made you as slick and open they could and you managed to fit all of him inside of you, all pain disappearing in just a few moments as you locked your legs around his waist.

Hotch looked into your eyes again, smiled by seeing your clearly pleasured expression and then began to move. Slowly, enjoying every bit of it. But after so much previous teasing, he couldn’t hold himself back too much and hearing you moan like that, probably didn’t help his state of mind.

His movements became rough, fast. You both moaned and moaned, each other’s names being the only thing leaving your mouths. One of Hotch’s hands found your throat and the feeling of his fucking you with the squeeze on your neck made you come, moaning loudly. So loudly. Hotch came just a few movements after, moaning too.

He laid beside you, both of you breathing heavily with your skins glistening in sweat. You kissed him once more before snuggling up to his chest and closing his eyes, you fell asleep.

━━━━━━━━━━ × ━━━━━━━━━━

“Morning, guys” Prentiss said, yawning while joining the rest of the team in the hotel lobby. The sun had just raised itself in the sky and you were all heading to the local precinct.

“Morning” Morgan replied, smiling by her clearly sleepy face. Sitting by Garcia’s side in one of the couches, he had a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hope you all had a nice night of sleep, because this day will probably be too long”

“I couldn’t sleep until four” Reid said with a heavy sight, also having a cup of coffee in his hands. Standing beside you, he looked to Hotch and then back at you before whispering. “The walls were really thin”

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #aaron x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch fanfiction #hotch fanfic #criminal minds smut #smut #hotch smut

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

#g/t #fearplay #g/t writing #my writing #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #giant/tiny #g/t angst #g/t community #hurt no comfort #remembers that anon i got a few days ago asking if i would ever write things with less angst #hopes this answers the question #also #these ocs? #they spark zero joy #so i will not be writing them again #meaning yes yall only get this sad ending oh well (: #absolutely not beta read nor edited sorry #ask #alarstar

[ssa-steverogers]

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count ╏ 2.4k

summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status; inspired by two ghosts by harry styles

warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x

note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3

I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.

The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.

Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.

“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“

“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.

“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.

Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.

“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.

“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.

Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.

The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.

No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.

All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.

today 7:40

y/n: hey aaron are you still at the office?

love: Yes, is there something going on?

y/n: aaron

love: Yes?

y/n: oh you forgot, didn’t you?

love: Forgot?

y/n: aaron, it’s our anniversary?

read 7:46

I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.

That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.

He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.

I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.

“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”

“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.

“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”

Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.

“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.

“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”

“You were just distant lately and-“

“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“

“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.

I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.

“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”

“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.

And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They’re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.

I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now and we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron #aaron x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #david rossi #jennifer jareau

[imagineaworlds]

I Had a Dream (Part Two) -- BAU Team

“Rules”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Sir kink, Dom/sub relationship, Mistress kink, Daddy kink, Master kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, discussion of bondage and BDSM themes. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), Emily Prentiss x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy), BAU team x Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy)

Word Count: 3000

A/N: I swear, the next part is when things get REAL!

A few hours later, the doorbell rang. I had been sitting on the couch anxiously, watching the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until Emily was supposed to show up. Hotch had invited her to show up early to help ease me into all of this because it was so out of pocket. I liked the idea of what was going to happen, but he wanted to make sure that I was comfortable over all else. If the team showed up and I backpedaled on the idea, he was going to kick them out. If any of them were uncomfortable, he was going to make sure they were taken care of and that they would get home safe. This was all supposed to be fun and safe. No one was supposed to be uneasy. Nerves were okay, obviously, but being entirely unsure was another thing. That was why Emily showed up first.

Hotch opened the door and invited her in. I stood to face her, and I noted how she paused in the doorway to drink in my appearance. A red v-neck shirt was tucked into my sweatpants, no bra or panties to cover up any part of me. My nipples were already poking against my shirt in response to my excitement. Emily noticed right away, and she licked her lips.

“Baby girl…” she cooed, meandering casually over to me. I stayed silent. “You okay?” I nodded and smiled. “Good girl.” She wiped a thumb slowly and seductively over my bottom lip. “He wants me to talk over everything with you. Sit.”

I eyed Hotch out of the corner of my eye as I followed her direction. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. I knew that he knew my limits like the back of his hand, but being safe and comfortable included discussing everything with the team as they would show up, and the best way to make me be honest was to discuss it with someone who wasn’t him— someone I wasn’t trying to impress for the sake of our relationship outside of the bedroom. Emily was going to review everything with me, then, when the entire team was there, she was going to present it all for them like we did with profiles during cases.

“We’re not playing right now, Y/N,” she said as she sat across from me. “This is just a discussion about your limits, your likes, what you expect, and so on. It’s imperative that you’re honest with me so that we can all please you the best we can. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“I need you to speak up. This only works with verbal communication.”

“I understand,” I croaked.

“Good.” She leaned back. “They’re going to show up in twenty minutes, at which point, they will sit down on the couches while you kneel beside me and Hotch. You let us worry about communicating with them and making sure they’re still alright with all of this. I want you to just focus on not getting ahead of yourself. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll start with a safe word. What do you want it to be?”

I looked at Hotch again to see him gesture for me to answer. I sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled like Hotch— like cinnamon and pine. A thought struck me. “Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon will mean a complete stop to the scene. No matter what’s happening, everyone will stop what they’re doing, and we’ll assess the situation. You’ll only use cinnamon when absolutely necessary.”

“Yes.”

“He says you want to use the playroom, not the bedroom.”

“Yes.”

“That means all of the toys will be down there for them to consider. What do you not want to use?”

I considered. Mine and Hotch’s playroom was down in the basement. It was one large, open space with a California King bed pressed against the far right wall, and toys organized everywhere around the room. There were cases, shelves, hooks, drawers, everything filled with toys for pleasure and punishment. There were ropes, chains, collars, zip ties, handcuffs, and leather cuffs all for the purpose of bondage. Ball gags, O-gags, cock gags (front, back, and double sided), and duct tape for keeping me quiet. Vibrators, dildos, plugs, strap ons, lube, and fake cum (for the strap ons) to please me. Paddles, shockers, clamps, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, clothes pins, and so on for punishment. The whole shabang. Hotch and I spent a lot of our time collecting all of those things throughout our relationship based on our changing comfort zones. I wasn’t sure, however, how far I wanted the team to go with me…

“I… I don’t know.”

“You have to tell me, Y/N, or this won’t work.”

I gulped. “No pain— except for clamps.”

Hotch grinned in the corner. He knew I was a sucker for clamps. We pretended like they were a punishment, but we both knew they only gave me more pleasure than pain.

“Do you want them to tie you up?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Gag you?”

“Yes.”

“Degrade you?”

“Yes.”

“Spank you?”

“Yes.”

“Contraceptives?”

“Yes,” Hotch beat me to it. “They’re on birth control, but I want the men to wear condoms.”

Emily looked at me. “Y/N?”

I nodded an agreement. “Yes. But I want the girls to use the fake cum, if they want.” I knew Emily was into that.

“Names and titles?”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?”

“Baby girl, baby, princess, slut, whore, anything along those lines.”

“And for them?”

“Whatever they want.”

“We’ll discuss it with them when they get here,” Hotch offered.

Emily and I both nodded. She continued, “Edging?”

“Yes.”

“Ruins?”

“Yes.”

“Forced orgasms?”

“Yes.”

“Roleplay?”

“What kind?”

“Consensual non consensual.”

I rubbed my thighs together as I felt her words go straight to my core. “Yes…”

“Voyeurism?”

“Yes.”

“Teacher roleplay?”

“I—“ I hesitated. “In what sense?”

“Rossi said he likes teaching people how to please women.”

My eyes widened. I knew that Rossi… Well, I knew that he was like me and Hotch because he invited us to a party once, but I never expected… “Yes. And, I, uh… I trust him to lightly use a flogger on me in that case. But only him.”

“Noted. Double penetration?”

“No.”

“Anal?”

“No.”

“Oral, female and male?”

“Yes to both.”

“Breath play?”

“No.”

“Choking?”

“Lightly.”

Emily looked to Hotch. “Can you think of anything else?”

“If you’re gagged, do you want to use Colors?” he asked me directly.

I nodded. “Yes.”

He turned to Emily to explain, “They’ll knock three times or hold out three fingers for green— which means good. They’ll knock twice or hold out two fingers for yellow— meaning slow down, check up, or change scene. They’ll knock once or hold up one finger for red— full stop.”

“Okay,” Emily agreed. “Easy enough.” She smiled at me. “See? It wasn’t so bad.”

I wiggled my hips around slightly. “Mhm. Not- Not at all.”

She squinted. “Baby girl… You still have ten minutes.”

I whimpered. “I know, Mistress. I’m already eager, though.”

Emily licked her teeth and shifted in his seat. “Come keep my thigh warm, then.” I immediately jumped to my feet and hurried over to her. “Face Sir.” I did as I was told, sitting on Emily’s left thigh, my back against her warm chest, my face pouting up at Hotch, still standing across the room with his arms crossed. “You can grind, but don’t edge.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.” I whimpered as I slowly moved my hips forwards and back, feeling my clit rub against the seam in my sweatpants. “Fuck…”

“You’re already soaking your pants, princess,” she chuckled wickedly in my ear. “We’re going to have so much fun ruining you. Are you excited to be treated like the needy fucking whore you are?”

I nodded eagerly and moaned my way through a, “Yes, Mistress.”

The doorbell suddenly rang, making me jump. Emily caught me and held me steady. “Shhh… They’re just early. Probably just as eager to get started as you are.” She brushed my hair off my shoulders. “Are you still okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Sir and I are in charge. We’ll make sure you’re okay the entire time.”

The doorbell rang again, so Hotch pushed himself off the wall and turned to open it. Emily patted my hips, a signal for me to stand up. I recalled that she wanted me to kneel beside her for this part. So, as she moved to stand in the front of the room, I followed, then slowly got down on my knees beside her, my bicep pressed against the outside of her right leg. She ran her palm over the top of my head to silently compliment me.

When the door opened and Hotch ushered them in, I saw Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, JJ, and Spencer all enter in that order. I nuzzled against Emily’s side to show that I was nervous.

“You’re okay?” she asked in a whisper. I nodded. “Speak.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered back.

“Tap my leg for Colors. Once for red, two for yellow, three for green.”

I nudged her leg with my shoulder three times.

As the team filed into the living room, they all took notice of my obedience. Rossi was grinning at me. He always wanted to play with me and Hotch, but every time we planning something, work got in the way. Now, though, he was going to ruin me, just like Emily promised. His excitement clearly couldn’t be contained. Morgan was also grinning, just not in the same dominant way Rossi was. He was a playboy, and he seemed like the kind of guy who always considered partaking in something like this but never got the chance until now. That being said, I could tell he was holding back because Garcia was holding his hand a little tight, unsure of what to do with herself. I knew if there was anyone we had to worry about most, it was probably her. JJ and Spencer, however, seemed to be staring at me and Emily with lust already glossing over their eyes. JJ was more trained on Emily than me, but Spencer looked like he wanted to ravish me— which, truth be told, caught me off guard. I knew that he was like us and Rossi, too, but it always seemed more hypothetical than anything else. Hotch and I were convinced that he only knew as much as he did about BDSM because of all the books he had read over time. Now that the opportunity had arisen to try everything he wanted, I recognized the look in his eyes that said: “I’m going to fuck you sore.”

Hotch approached the front of the room. The team sat down, and Hotch stood on my right side. Emily asked me for Colors again, so I nudged her three times. When she had the green light, she told me to keep my eyes on the ground. When I followed her orders, Hotch began.

“Before we start, it’s imperative that everyone here understands that you are not being pressured to be here. No one will judge you for needing a break, needing some air, or needing to leave entirely. We’ve invited you as guests. Your safety is just as important as ours. If at any moment you feel overwhelmed, come speak to me or Emily. If you just need a moment to yourself, there are cups out on the counter for drinks, and there are snacks. There will be no alcohol allowed, however. The table on the patio in the backyard is clean. Please, if you need some air, don’t hesitate to go sit outside for a bit. If you need to leave, we’ll arrange that immediately. Does everyone understand?”

There were a few hums of agreement, and I assumed that they were all nodding.

“Y/N and I have discussed everything together. Hotch and I will present their limits and likes, and we’ll take questions as we go. Afterwards, they’ll be asked to address you to test titles. If you don’t want to use titles, tell them. They’ll just use your name. Do you understand?”

More hums.

“We’ve discussed two methods of safety during the scenes. The safe word ‘Cinnamon’ means that the scene should come to a complete stop. If anyone uses this word, everyone needs to stop what they're doing so that we can address the situation. If Y/N uses the safe word, he’ll handle it. Y/N has expressed that they are fine with using gags during the scenes. If they should ever be gagged, they will use a color system where red means complete stop, yellow means check up, and green means everything’s fine. One finger, knock, or tap is red; two is for yellow; and three is for green. Like this. Colors, baby girl,” she addressed me. I nudged her three times. “Is that clear to everyone?”

More hums.

“Downstairs is where the playroom is,” Hotch explained. “Down there, you’ll find shelves, drawers, and other storage devices used to hold all of the toys and equipment we own for scenes. The bottom drawer of the dresser on the left side of the bed is off limits. Y/N has expressed that they have no interest in using punishment toys— found in that drawer— but that includes the paddles on the wall. If you see paddles, shockers, pumps, chastity belts, pin rollers, or clothes pins, do not touch them. Y/N has claimed this as their limit. Nipple clamps, however, are still allowed.”

Emily continued. “BDSM is encouraged. Restraints, gags, blindfolds, degradation, edging, ruined orgasms, forced orgasms. spanking, and choking are all allowed. Extreme breath play is not allowed.”

“We ask that the men use condoms. Y/N wants the women to know that they are allowed to use the fake cum for the strap ons, if they so choose.”

“We discussed potential roleplay scenarios that were requested. Reid, consensual non consensual is okay.”

My eyes widened. Reid was the one who requested that? I was shocked. I didn’t think he had it in him to be so rough. There was so much I didn’t know about him, it seemed.

“Rossi,” Emily continued, “your teacher roleplay scenario is also okay. If you choose to perform this scene, make it clear to the others in the group what it is you’re doing. Y/N’s also specified that in this roleplay scenario, they trust Rossi to lightly use a flogger. No one else, though.”

“Anal and double penetration are not allowed,” Hotch said. “If anyone tries it, they will be asked to leave.”

“Part of the degradation kink is to use names like slut, whore, cunt— sometimes used specifically as ‘edge’ or ‘cum slut’, ‘needy whore’, ‘broken cunt’, and so on. These names are all allowed. If you find that you are uncomfortable with degrading them in this way, they also like baby, baby girl, and princess. They enjoy addressing their dominants with titles. For instance, Hotch uses Sir, and I use Mistress. Now, we’re not saying you have to address us with these titles, but you may. The real point is that Y/N would like to know how they should address each of you. Again, titles are up to you. You don’t have to have one. Using your name is fine, if that’s what you prefer. But you need to tell us, and then they’ll be tested as we start. Rossi, we’ll start with you.”

He sighed to hide his anticipation. “Master.”

“Color,” Emily ordered me. I nudged her three times. “Morgan.”

“Daddy.”

“Color.” I bit my lip and nudged green again. “Garcia.”

“Just Penelope.”

“JJ.”

“I—“ She hesitated. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to,” Hotch reminded her.

“I want to,” she clarified, “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, there’s Mistress, like me, Ma’am, Mommy— girls can also use Daddy and Sir. It’s whatever you want.”

JJ still hesitated for a moment. “Um… Ma’am…”

“Color, baby girl,” Emily reached down to caress my cheek. I nuzzled my cheek into her palm three times. “Reid.”

“Mister S,” he answered.

Emily asked me for Colors again, to which I gave her green. “You may look up now, baby girl.”

I peeled my eyes away from the carpet, slowly trailing my way up to get a good look at everyone sitting on the couches across from us. I could see that Morgan and Reid were already hard and squirming, whereas Rossi still had his nonchalant demeanor plastered to his behavior, and JJ was still watching Emily intently, and Garcia was holding onto Morgan.

“Go one by one, and address them,” Emily ordered me.

I made eye contact with Rossi, “Master.” Morgan, “Daddy.” He cleared his throat and squirmed more. Garcia smiled at me. “Penelope.” JJ, “Ma’am.” Reid, “Sir.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Emily fisted my hair in her hand and pulled my head back so I was looking up at her and Hotch. “And us, slut.”

I gulped. “Mistress and Sir.”

She let go of me roughly. “Good girl.”

“Again,” Hotch said to the team, “water and snacks in the kitchen, the table on the patio, and Emily and I can arrange early rides home if anyone needs it.”

“I’ll go with them downstairs first,” Emily said to Hotch. He nodded. “Come on, baby girl.” She held her hand out for me. I carefully accepted and let her pull me to my feet, then start leading me to the basement door. Silently, we made our way down to the playroom. “Sit on the edge of the bed.” I did as I was told. “You’re still okay?”

I nodded.

“Speak when spoken to, slut.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“You’ll tell me or Hotch if something’s wrong?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl. Lay back and wait.”

I let out a shaky breath as I moved back onto the middle of the bed, then laid down until my head hit the pillows.

-----------

criminal minds family: @gorgeousdarkangel​ @peggy1999​ @marvelismylifffe @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss imagine #spencer reid #david rossi #jj #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #david rossi imagine #david rossi smut

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Am I a fool to think that there's a little hope - Part 4

This fic is growing yet I feel like I'm only writing a tiny bit at a time. Anyway I'm playing fast and loose with prison visiting here because Victoria has feelings and her brother needs to hear what an idiot he's been...Aaron's had his turn.

Robert's surprised but also he's not when the guard tells him he has a visitor the following afternoon. The rule is one visit a fortnight and he's got two in two days. He knows it's Vic even before he goes into the visiting room. He dreads to think what she's done to wangle another visit and decides he's probably better off not knowing.

Since Aaron left the day before he's done nothing but worry about what he'd said, about Liv, about the business and cursing himself for thinking Aaron would be better off. It sounded like it was anything but. He'd wanted to ask, wanted to know everything but Aaron couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He'd barely had chance to think about his case, if there was one, too focussed on Aaron, and he knew Victoria would be wanting answers, answers he just didn't have. He needed to talk to his solicitor. He'd asked for her to be contacted but nothing moved that fast in here, it'd take time for her to visit he knew that.

"Robert!" He smiles as she hugs him, gently pushing her away when one of the guards glares at him.

"Hi Vic. Are you alright? Aaron said you weren't up to much."

"Oh no, I'm fine now. Speaking of Aaron, what did you say to him, he was in a foul mood all night long."

"Never mind that." He can't stop smiling, her mood is infectious like that and he realises just how much he's missed her. "Just how did you manage to get another visit?"

"Oh...well I tried explaining that I'd been ill and when that didn't work I got on to your solicitor and...well she might've implied that it was a family emergency."

"Vic! You can’t do things like that."

"You would." He opens his mouth, then shuts it because she's not exactly wrong. "Anyway, it is. You could get out Rob! That's massive."

"Hold on, Aaron said it was a tiny chance, and besides, are you alright? Must've been a shock, Luke coming out like that and all this." He's stalling, he knows she wants him to jump for joy but he just doesn't have it in him.

"Oh I'm fine, I'm better off. You need to talk to your solicitor, and then we can get started on an appeal."

"Vic, slow down. I pleaded guilty, I took responsibility. Are you sure anyone's going to care?"

"I will, your nephew will." She paused. "Seb will."

"Don't." There wasn't a day went by without him thinking of his little boy, wondering what he'd be doing, if he was still cheeky, if he even knew who he was anymore. In his darker moments he imagined him calling Ross 'Daddy' and the three of them being the perfect happy family. "How is he?"

"I don't know. Rebecca's pretty much cut us all off. Diane managed to get to see him a few months back but she's heard nothing since. You know she stopped Aaron seeing him, not long after Christmas last year, right after the divorce papers arrived." He stares at her, wished she'd say it was a joke. He knew they hadn't had any kind of formal agreement but he'd never expected Rebecca to do that. She knew how much Seb loved Aaron. He was beginning to realise just how much he'd messed up, and Aaron had every reason to be mad at him.

"I've made such a mess. Is he...he said the business isn't good and Liv's in a mess." He reaches for her hand. "How is he really Vic?"

"Things are...difficult right now. We've not really been close the last few months, he had issues with Luke and Wendy and everything, and now I realise how much of an idiot I've been."

"It's not your fault, Vic."

"He's lonely. Even with..." She trails off and he knows she was going to mention a bloke, he's not stupid. He'd wanted this after all, he just hadn't realised just how much it would hurt.

"He's with someone?"

"Sort of, I think. Ben. He's alright, and they're...I don't think it's anything official, they're just hanging out, and Ben's helping with Liv. You can't be mad about it Rob."

"No I know. Hurts all the same."

"You might be my big brother but you're a proper idiot. Cutting him off like that, and me! What were you thinking?"

"I've been through all this with him, don't you start."

"I will start. You'll say it was for the best and that, but it wasn't. Not for me, and definitely not for Aaron. Neither of us care that it'd be a pain making the journey down here, or that it's for years. We love you, but you won't let us!"

He shakes his head, he knows she's right. He knows why, it's always been the same. Ever since he was sent away all those years ago, he just never feels as though people will stay with him, that they'll get fed up, that he's not worth it. So he gets in first, pushes them away, cheats, anything rather than be hurt.

"Vic, stop, please."

"No. You're my brother and I lost you before. Andy's gone, you're stuck here and it's just been me. I needed you, even if it was just a phone call or a letter. You've been all alone because you're stubborn."

"It was for the best. All of you should just get on with your lives and forget about me."

"Well tough, it doesn't work like that! You know, Aaron wasn't going to come with me, even though I asked, but he did because he wanted to see you despite everything. Left Ben to do it, what does that tell you?"

"That he's a good mate."

"No, that he misses you. First mention of you and he goes all Aaron, storming off and hiding away. He still loves you, you idiot." He shakes his head, doesn't want to believe it. He's managed to push all those thoughts aside and he doesn't want them coming back up again and torturing him.

"Didn't feel like that yesterday."

"Of course it doesn't. He thinks you don't want him. Honestly the two of you drive me mad. Look, say you do get out of here, wouldn't you want him back?"

"Of course I would, but he's with this Ben now."

"Pfft." He laughs a little and her face. "He'd take you back the second you walked in the village and you know it."

"Maybe once."

"You're so infuriating."

"So are you. I don't want to talk about Aaron anymore. Tell me what's been going on in the village." He let her chatter wash over him, too much going on in his head to even start to sort out. If he was lucky enough to get out, would he want to go back to the village where most of the residents didn't like him. He wasn't stupid he knew they tolerated him for Aaron. No doubt the Dingles hated his guts, and then there was Wendy. Maybe it'd be better all round if he just started afresh, or stayed where he was. He just didn't know what to do for the best. He needed time.

--------

Aaron throws his keys on the table, glad the house is quiet. He's exhausted. Vic had tried talking about Robert all the way home, so much so he'd contemplated getting the train home. Trying to tell him he still loved him, knew he'd been an idiot. He didn't care, no that was a lie, of course he did, but he was afraid to believe it. Besides what good would it do unless Robert changed his mind and let him back in.

He should call Ben, try and explain, try and make it up to him, except he really wasn't sure he wanted to anymore.

He's half asleep when his phone rings and he doesn't recognise the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi." The gasp sounds loud in the quiet room, the voice so familiar and so unexpected. "So, you married an idiot."

He can't help it, he starts laughing, hears Robert joining in and that's all there is for a good few minutes.

"I missed you." He doesn't say anything. "I know it's my fault, all of it and it shouldn't have taken my little sister pecking my head about it all afternoon, but...I'm sorry."

"I know. I missed you too." He feels the tension leave him, Robert always managed to do that.

"If I'm...Vic said, about Ben. If I'm...if you want me to go that's fine, I will, I just...I...wanted you to know."

"Yeah. Ben's...he's a mate." Not strictly true, but deep down he'd known it'd never be more than that, no matter how hard he tried. "I'm still mad at you."

"Yeah. Kinda mad at myself too. Listen, Vic said...about Rebecca stopping Seb visiting. I'm so sorry Aaron, I never thought she'd do that."

"Yeah well, I think she was just waiting for the chance. You know she never really liked me all that much." It hadn't mattered when Robert was there, he'd put up with it because as long as Seb was happy he didn't care.

"Still...if things go the right way, that's the first thing I'm changing."

"You're going to appeal then?"

"You have met Vic, right? As if she'd let me do anything else." He sighs and Aaron can hear a commotion in the background. "I've nothing to lose have I? If I lose I'm still in here the same amount of time. If I win then I get my life back, at least some of it."

"All of it." Robert pauses, and Aaron knows he's thinking he's misheard.

"Yeah?" His voice sounds just like it had so many times, when he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"Yeah. I'm still mad as hell at you and we will be talking about you making stupid decisions all by yourself, but yeah...throughout our lives together, remember?"

"And if it takes a while? Or...if it doesn't work?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

They talk a bit longer, about nothing at all, just chatting like they used to and he realises just how much he's missed it. When they finally have to hang up he's smiling. He knew there was one more thing he had to do.

"Ben? It's me. Can you come over? We need to talk."

--------

It'd taken months, of legal wrangling, of trying to find Luke, months of visits to the Isle of Wight, of expecting every time to be turned away because Robert had changed his mind, but now it was the last time.

"Quit your pacing, you're making me dizzy."

"I can't help it. What if..."

"What if nothing. You heard the judge. He's free. He'd be here now if he'd been in court." He nodded, he knew that, but the restrictions still meant video appearances, so here they were waiting for all the paperwork to be finished before they could see Robert.

Vic had wanted to come with him, only Harry having a raging temperature had stopped her, so he'd asked Cain, the only member of his family who hadn't tried to talk him out of it all.

"Daddy coming?" He turned to see Seb poking his head out of the car window. Robert had somehow managed to convince Rebecca to restart their visits and he and Seb had been slowly getting to know each other again.

"Soon mate, promise."

"I'm hungry."

"I know. We'll get something as soon as he's here." Satisfied the little boy goes back to the game on Aaron's phone. "Do you think...is it wrong that I don't want to go back?"

"To Emmerdale? Why."

"You've seen what it's like. Mum, Paddy, everyone telling me what they think, how bad he is for me."

"Do you care what they think? You know the truth, they'll come round. If they don't, you've got your family Aaron. Your Mum's the one who'll lose out."

"I know. I just wish she'd try."

"Yeah well, she's stubborn. Just like him." Aaron follows his gaze, sees Robert standing outside the entrance to the prison, looking around, as if he can't quite believe he's out. "Go on then, go get your husband back."

He doesn't need telling twice, runs across the road, probably startling Robert as he throws his arms around him.

Everything would be alright now. He had Robert back.

#robron fic #i just decided that aaron would despatch liv somewhere #basically i didn't want to get into it #i hope this finishes it off satisfactorily #and seb's back where he should be #all is right with the world

[leo-gold-hotchner]

Syndicate

Aaron Hotchner X GN Reader

Warning: No romance (not yet at least), could be a one-shot or not...

It was a typical windy day. The day was slow without an incident except for uproar from the public regarding anonymous vigilantes. Even before the police could involve themselves, many crimes were already solved by the anonymous vigilantes that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Some said they always resided in the city even before you entered kindergarten. Some said they appeared suddenly because the public wanted ‘proper’ justice. You narrowed your eyes as you roughly turned off the TV. 

You have been privately investigating the anonymous vigilantes for the past months, and you thought you found a couple of evidence that might lead to the vigilantes. You knew Chief Curtis might not approve the formal investigation if you just head into her office because the evidence you found was pure words of people and victims of crimes. It took so much of your private time to investigate the anonymous vigilantes, but you couldn’t get much as you wanted. 

But one thing was sure. They were not just vigilantes but also did arms trafficking. Unlike how the public wrapped them into a hero suit, they were a crime syndicate. They were not heroes, and people needed to know. You crossed your arms as you studied the investigation board on your wall. All the strings pointed to one name. 

Hotch. 

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

“No,” not even looking up at you, Curtis replied tonelessly. “I ordered not to investigate them a few months ago.” He put down the folder you made, including all the investigations you’ve done. The chief didn’t even glance at the folder and you. “Don’t bring this issue again, L/N.” 

“But…” 

“Unless you want to go back to the academy, L/N, drop it.” His icy blue eyes scanned you quickly. “Do not bring up this issue ever again. This is your final warning.” 

You stormed out of the chief’s office and slammed the folder on your desk. 

“Told ya she’d gonna piss off.” A loud smack echoed as Battle slapped his rough hand on your shoulder. “Just leave them be. We get money while they do our work. Things are easy, ya know, win-win for us? Ain’t it, Phillip?” 

Dowd snorted at Battle but nodded in agreement. 

“They are a crime syndicate!” You grumbled. “They traffic weapons, and as law enforcement, we need to stop them. I talked to people who were part of it!” 

“Kid, you’ll only get hurt.” You turned and found Foyet standing casually with a doughnut box in his right hand. 

“I don’t care. I joined the Force to help and bring justice. I’m not gonna sit and watch people fooled by a gang full of shit.” 

“We were there. Young, full of spirit, justice.” Foyet closed his eyes as if he was reminiscing his younger days. “And such feisty youth brought so much pain, kid.” He handed the box to Archer, who literally had been drooling ever since Foyet entered the office with the doughnut box. 

“We’re protecting you, L/N.” Archer shrugged. “Even if you don’t do anything, the public will eventually know we’re the heroes, not them. Just wait and see.” 

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

It already had been a week and a half. The news kept talking about hero vigilantes and lazy police officers, and you hated it. Day by day, Chief Curtis kept his eyes on you. The wordless pressure made you distressing. But at the same time, you felt Curtis had something to do with the syndicate you were investigating. Despite how the chief and your colleagues told you to stay out of it, you were invested in finding the syndicate and exposing them to light. However, you couldn’t find anything on the syndicate ever since you asked for a formal investigation. 

You yawned and stretched your arms on your desk. The chief’s office was blinded, but you could see the light coming out between the white slates. You lazily checked your watch and readied to go home. You lightly said goodnight to your colleagues and others. 

Your body shivered from the sharp wind touching you as soon as you exited the building. You adjusted your coat and walked towards your car that was parked in an alley next to the station. You stopped at the track when you saw a man in a clean navy suit standing in front of your car, watching you. Your guard was up and narrowed your eyes. 

“Who’re you?” 

“I heard you were looking for me, Detective L/N.” Something was off. The man smiled and showed his hands casually. “I just wanted to escort you myself.” Your hand was already on your waist, ready to pull your gun. But as if he was ridiculing you, his smile broadened. “Don’t worry. We can talk when you wake up.” 

Before you could understand, your sight swayed as your legs buckled up after a loud thud. Even with fading consciousness, you saw the man walking towards you with a smirk. 

“By the way, F/N. I’m Hotch.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #Agent Hotchner #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #gender neutral reader

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 5)

Chapter summary: Aaron and the rest of the BAU finally make an arrest on their case, and you spend the weekend at Aaron’s.

Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms

prev. chapter || masterlist || read on ao3

I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted

And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted

- Harry Styles, “Medicine”

 ~~~~~~~

The investigation was slow going, and every day when you got off the metro to get to your internship, you would see the undercover van that you knew had BAU members cramped inside, sitting and waiting for somebody, anybody , to slip up and say something incriminating. 

  It was weird being at work knowing that it was bugged, but it did wonders for your productivity. Whenever Chris or another one of your friends at the office started to ask you about your personal life, you were able to deflect it with a quick “Sorry, I’m in the zone right now, and I’ve really got to focus!” Usually, you had no problem sharing, but you really didn’t want the FBI to have audio evidence of your retelling of you double fisting vodka Sprites the night before until you passed out in your bathtub. 

  You also hadn’t seen Aaron since that first night together, which was almost a week ago now. The two of you had been texting back and forth pretty consistently, but you quickly found that there was a variable that wasn’t there two years ago - Jack.

You should have realized that, of course , Jack would be living with Aaron now, but it never crossed your mind. Jack used to live with Haley, and Aaron rarely brought him up to you. Now that Jack lived with Aaron, it made things a little more complicated. It also meant that you couldn’t just show up at Aaron’s doorstep whenever you were feeling lonely, or vice versa. After a long and awkward phone call, Aaron and you had both agreed that it was best that Jack just didn’t meet you, just in case he got attached.

  “For now, at least,” Aaron had added at the end, and holy shit, you did not have the time to unpack whatever the fuck that meant.

  Especially not with Chris throwing a crumpled piece of paper at you like the two of you were in middle school and passing notes.

  You held up the ball of paper with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? You have the desk across from me, you could have just said my name.”

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked you, pointedly ignoring your question. “Nina just got the Catan expansion pack and she wants us all to come over.”

  You pursed your lips as you thought about the offer. You did love game nights with your friends, but it was Friday night and you were still holding out on the possibility of Aaron maybe being free and inviting you over. It was almost pitiful how touch starved you were after just a few days of not being with Aaron.

  “I’m not sure whether or not I’m busy tonight,” you admitted, maybe speaking a little too loudly in the direction of the listening devices, just in case Aaron was listening in. 

  Chris gave you a knowing smirk. “Oh, are you waiting to hear from your secret lover?”

  “Okay, don’t use the word ‘lover’ again,” you groaned. “And what makes you think that it was anything more than a one night stand?”

  “Because when you’re not actively texting, you’ve been checking your phone every 20 minutes.”

  Your face turned red as you sunk into your seat, trying and failing to hide yourself. Maybe if you willed it hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow you whole, just to save you from the embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were checking your phone so often, but you also didn’t doubt it. 

  “Fine,” you grumbled, deciding that coming clean to your friends was going to be much easier than having to deal with them bringing it up at every moment possible. Besides, you didn’t have to give them all the details. “I will tell everybody all about him, but later . Not now.”

  Chris smirked as he leaned back in his chair, obviously proud of himself. You turned back to your work, mindlessly doing edits as you came up with a cover story in your head.

  Ran into an old friend, you could say. We got drinks, and then one thing led to another. That could work, except you came to the realization that you didn’t have any photos of Aaron, which would be suspicious if he was an old friend. You would have to look him up, which you were sure would just lead to a slew of FBI ID photos and news articles, which would mean that they’d just do some major googling of their own. You had avoided looking up Aaron, maybe in fear of what fucked up cases he had been involved in, but your friends would not hesitate.

  You could come up with something so ridiculous that they would just laugh about it. Yeah, I got a sugar daddy and he made me sign a nondisclosure agreement, sorry! You giggled to yourself just thinking about it. Aaron would probably be mortified at the thought. Although, he did wear a Rolex, so you guessed that anything was possible.

  “Holy shit, Y/N,” Chris mumbled, and you just gave a lazy hum as a reply, not really paying attention. “The FBI is here.”

  Your head snapped up at that . You whipped your head around so that you could face the entrance, and sure enough, the entire BAU team was walking in like they owned the place, with Aaron in the lead. They all had their FBI vests on, a sight which was way more attractive than it should have been. JJ and Reid stayed at the entrance to make sure nobody got out.

  “Everybody, please stay calm,” JJ called out, putting her hands up non threateningly. “Everything is okay, but we need you all to stay sitting exactly where you are.”

  A commotion came from the conference room and against your better judgment, you turned your head to watch what was going on. It wasn’t just one person getting arrested, it was every partner. You watched as Aaron spun Julian DuPont around by the wrist and pushed his face down on the conference table and oh, the FBI vest was nothing compared to watching Aaron arrest somebody.

  If anybody asked you if you got turned on during an FBI raid, you would vehemently deny it, but watching Aaron take out his handcuffs made your mind flash back to all those times you were in that same position, cuffed and bent over, completely at Aaron’s mercy. 

  Just as quickly as they came in, the BAU made their arrests and made their way back out. As Aaron passed your desk, his eyes met yours for a brief second and the corner of his mouth quirked up smugly. It was so subtle and quick that even you barely caught it, but you knew that look.

  At least you weren’t the only one in this situation with your mind in the gutter.

  Once the rest of the BAU was out of the building, JJ and Reid started the process of getting everybody else out of the office so that CSI could come in and finish looking around. When you passed by them, both agents greeted you with a warm smile, like the three of you were old friends.

  “Y/N, we’re going to need to get your statement before you go home,” Reid told you as you walked by, and you just nodded in confirmation.

  Once you got outside, you were immediately greeted by some agent named Anderson. He needed to get your statement on the work you did with the team, and you quickly gave him the PG version of the story. Your mind, however, was more focused on finding Aaron, who you knew had to be somewhere in the crowd. God, how long did it take to write down a simple statement?

  “I’ll take it from here, Anderson. Thank you.” 

  Aaron’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you spun around to look at him. You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Nice arrest, although I’m surprised. Mr. DuPont doesn’t even drive himself to work, I can’t imagine him waiting out to kill somebody.”

  “That’s because he hired hitmen,” Aaron explained. “The victims were all bribing judges to get their cases dismissed, and all of those dismissed cases looked really bad for his prosecuting record.”

  You shrugged, placing your hands on his hips. “Probably not as bad as prison, though.”

  That actually got a laugh out of Aaron, but he quickly composed himself as another agent walked past the two of you. “Yeah, he’s not going to be practicing law ever again.” 

  You opened your mouth to say something - maybe to invite him over? You weren’t totally sure - when one of the CSI’s came over to ask Aaron something.

  Aaron waved him off, telling him that he would be there in a moment, before turning back to you. “My house will be empty all weekend,” he whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was watching. “Pack a bag, come over.”

  Before you could even answer him, Aaron had already taken off. You made your way towards the metro so that you could run home before heading to Aaron’s. You had to fight the smile that was growing on your face when Aaron mentioned packing a bag. Not only was it an unspoken promise of a weekend full of sex, it also meant that he was planning on making room for you to keep some of your stuff at his house. The two of you were quickly falling back into your old routines, and it was weirdly comforting.

  When you got to your house, you made a split second decision to change out of your work clothes into a more casual outfit, although it didn’t matter much what you were wearing. It’s not like it was going to stay on for very long. As you packed your bag, you ordered an Uber, knowing it would get you to Aaron’s place faster than the metro. 

  Sure, you were a little impatient, but it had been so long since you had spent the night at Aaron’s place. It always intrigued you how different it was at his house than it was at yours. You were just staying in a shoebox apartment while you were in college - something liveable and temporary until after you graduated and got a job where you could put actual roots down. Your decor was fairly minimum, an assortment of knick-knacks and photos of your friends.

  Aaron’s place was different. It was a certifiable, adult house with framed art and random decorative bowls scattered around. All of his kitchenware was a part of a matching set and his living room looked like all the pieces were picked out by an interior designer. In a weird way, being at Aaron’s house gave you a glimpse of the life you could have in just a few years. Sometimes, it was easy to imagine that you were a part of his world.

  You couldn’t think like that, though. Especially not when he greeted you at his door with an eager kiss, pulling you in so that you were pressed against him.

  “I’m going to use this entire weekend,” Aaron mumbled against your lips in between kisses. His hands slid up your sides, pulling your shirt off almost immediately. “To thoroughly and completely ruin you, until you can only say my name.” 

  Your fingers tangled in his hair as you smiled into the kiss, your fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips, which only encouraged him to deepen the kiss.

  The two of you stumbled towards Aaron’s bedroom, only detaching your lips when absolutely necessary and leaving a trail of clothes behind you. You needed to be naked, to feel your bare skin pressed against his. His hands were impossibly everywhere all at once - running up your thighs, cupping your breasts, and gripping your hips so hard that it was bound to leave bruises. Your body burned everywhere he touched and soon all you could think about was him and how badly you wanted him to touch you where it mattered.

  Once you got to his bedroom, Aaron pressed you against the wall. You tried to grind against him, but he moved one of his hands onto your hips so that he could hold you in place. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking just enough to make your back arch. “You have no idea how often I thought of you this week. How hard it was to listen to you and not think about how you sound when you’re begging for me. How badly I needed you.”

  Your nail scratched down his back lightly, just enough to elicit a soft hiss from him. “Desperation is unbecoming on you, Aaron,” you teased, knowing that would get a reaction out of him.

  It worked. One of his hands stayed on your hip, pressing you firmly against the wall, while his other hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back so that your face was lifted up towards him. He kept you at an arm's distance as his eyes raked your body up and down hungrily.

  “I’m desperate?” he said scornfully. “Coming from the girl who is so needy that she couldn’t stay away from her phone for more than a few minutes, just waiting for me to want you. I could have called you at any time, and you would have dropped everything just to let me use you, isn’t that right? You’d let me do anything to you, just like the filthy slut you are.”

  You visibility gulped at his statement but you nodded obediently, which earned you a sharp tug of your hair.

  “Yes, Aaron, fuck ,” you gasped out. “I would have let you do anything at any time, just please…”

  Aaron gave you a predatory grin as the hand on your hip slowly made its way up your stomach until it cupped your right breast, thumbing lightly over your nipple. It wasn’t enough to get any real pleasure, but it made you moan all the same.

   “You did such a good job this week,” he murmured, looking at you almost worshipfully like he wanted to commit you to memory.  “I was going to give you whatever you wanted tonight. But maybe that would make me too desperate .”

  You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. “I- I-” you stuttered out. You couldn’t think straight.

  “I- I-,” Aaron mocked. “I thought you were a lot more intelligent than that. Come on, Y/N, whatever you want. Use your words. Unless pleasure’s turned you into a stupid whore.” He punctuated the last word with a light spank to your clit, which made you cry out and your legs instinctively try to close.

  “I want you to use your mouth,” you begged, arching your back in a pitiful attempt to create some form of contact. Your shoulders pressed against the wall was the only thing keeping you upright.

  “Where?” he asked all too casually.

  Your breathing was still shaky at best, but you forced yourself to make eye contact with Aaron. He looked back at you expectantly, waiting patiently for your answer.

  You slowly raised your hand to point to your left breast, which so far had been woefully ignored. “Here,” you said hesitantly, not sure whether or not he was going to tease you. While Aaron always gave you what you asked for eventually, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you beg for it first.

  To his credit, however, Aaron immediately bent down and attached his mouth to your nipple, his teeth gently scraping over the sensitive flesh. His eyes never left yours, he wanted to watch your reaction. 

  Feeling more confident, you cupped the sides of his face and pulled him off you, and the sound it made was obscene. “I want you to eat me out,” you whispered, blushing as you said it. “I want to feel myself cum on your face, please .”

  Aaron smirked as he slid down to his knees, kissing all the way down your stomach. “Good girl, you asked so nicely,” he mumbled against your skin and it sent shivers up your spine. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a perfect few of your pussy, slick with your arousal. “Look at you, dripping down your thighs before I’ve even started. Desperation is unbecoming on you, Y/N,” he mocked. He was using your words against you, and you didn’t even care. You just wanted him to do something, anything.

  Aaron ran a finger through your folds, ghosting over your clit. You hips bucked, desperate for more contact, but his finger was already gone. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as soon as you did, you were greeted with the image of Aaron admiring the wetness that was covering his finger. Then he stuck the finger in his mouth, smirking as he did, and you moaned out at the sight. “You taste so good, Y/N.”

  “Please, Aaron, I need you to- oh! ” you begged, but you were cut off by Aaron licking a strip up your center, still avoiding your clit.

  His hands came around and grabbed onto your ass as he got to work, lapping through your folds. You tangled your hands in his hair, rocking your hips against his mouth, craving more . His tongue teased at your clit, humming every once in a while in a way that sent vibrations throughout you. Without warning, he pushed two fingers into you curling them in just the right spot.

  As Aaron’s fingers pumped in and out of you, his lips focused solely on your clit. He flicked it once with his tongue before sucking, relishing in the way you moaned out his name. You tightened your grip in Aaron’s hair as your first orgasm hit you, your whole body shaking and a string of expletives leaving your mouth. But that didn’t stop Aaron.

  He added a third finger and replaced his mouth with his thumb on your clit. “You’re going to give me another one,” he practically growled. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you’re a whining mess. This is what you asked for isn’t it?”

  When you didn’t answer right away, he turned his head to the side and bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, causing you to cry out. He sucked on that same spot for a little before dragging his tongue over the newly formed bruise.

  “Yes, I want that, Aaron,” you cried out. “I want you .”

  He reattached his lips to your folds with newfound vigor, making tight circles around your clit. His free hand snaked up your sides to your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple. You continued to beg, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. All you knew was that you were so full of want , want for your second orgasm, and want for Aaron.

  Aaron fucked you with his fingers with ease, as if he had all the time in the world. You ground down on him again, chasing your orgasm the best you could. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, but you needed more. You opened your eyes, only to be met with Aaron’s blown pupils, eyes full of desire. You could almost feel his smirk as he wrapped his lips around your clit and pulled .

  The heel of your foot dug into his back as you cried out, your second orgasm twice as intense as your first one. Aaron’s fingers kept pumping into you lazily, and even your panting couldn’t cover the filthy sounds it was making. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs.

  Aaron slowly removed his fingers from you and lightly swiped them over your clit once more as he stood up, which almost made you completely lose your balance, a sob tearing from your mouth.

  He held his glistening fingers in front of your mouth and you opened obediently, moaning as you tasted yourself on him. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, making sure to clean every trace of you off him.

  Aaron removed his fingers from your mouth. “Do you have one more in you?” he asked, and it was softer than you were used to. “It’s okay if you don’t. We have all weekend.”

  “I need your dick in me,” you said in lieu of an answer. “Please, please fuck me.”

  Aaron pulled you to his bed and you all but collapsed onto your back, your legs still shaking from your back to back orgasms. Aaron crawled on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, all the way from your stomach to your mouth.

  “You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. All of his movements were gentle, bordering on caring. “Yelling out my name so that everybody can hear that you’re mine .”

  He pressed into you slowly, his first few thrusts shallow, and you could see that it was taking all of his willpower to keep teasing you like this. You dragged your nails down his back, not caring if it left marks on him.

  “Aaron,” you whimpered, bucking your hips to try and get more movement. “Please fuck me. I need more.”

  Aaron was always good at giving you what you wanted.

  His hips snapped into you harshly, and you had to attach your lips to his shoulder to keep from screaming out. Aaron thrusted into you hard and fast, wanting to feel every inch of you. He stretched you in all the best ways and your back arched off the bed. You were holding on to Aaron like a lifeline, and all he could do was grunt out your name over and over, repeating it like a prayer. 

  Your third orgasm came fast, spreading through your body like a wildfire, and you could feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation. Aaron’s thrusts became more desperate and harsher as he felt you squeeze around him. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breathing ragged and you could tell that he was so close-

  “Cum for me… Fill me up,” you purred into Aaron’s ear, and that’s all it took for him to finish, holding himself deep inside you as his warmth filled you. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath. You brought your head up to kiss Aaron, slowly and deliberately and filled with… something . You couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

  Aaron pulled out of you slowly and flopped onto the bed next to you, but he reached over and held your hand. The two of you laid like that for several moments, giving yourselves time to come back down to reality. Finally, Aaron rolled on his side to check on you. You admired the flush on his body, especially as it rose to his cheeks and made him look like he was practically glowing.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your hand. “Can I do anything?” 

  You turned your head to smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze, before sitting up. Aaron was always so careful about aftercare, which you were immensely appreciative of. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m just going to go to the bathroom. A UTI might ruin the mood,” you joked.

  When you returned, Aaron was already in a pair of pajama pants and sitting in bed. He had also laid out one of his shirts for you, which caused your stomach to do flips. Despite the fact that you actually did pack pajamas, you chose to wear his shirt. You could feel his eyes watching your every movement as you made your way back into bed, leaning back against the headboard.

  Aaron placed an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, catching his lips in another kiss, this one soft and sensual. You placed your hand on his bare chest as the kiss deepened, and Aaron’s fingers ghosting over your skin sent shivers down your spine.

  “So,” you murmured against his lips. “What are your plans for me this weekend?” It was partially a joke, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for just how sore you were going to be on Monday after an entire three days of being thoroughly wrecked by Aaron.

  Aaron’s lips curved up into a smile as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, letting his lips linger for just a second too long. “Hm, we can play it by ear. Although, I was thinking Indian for dinner tomorrow night?”

  You were too old to get butterflies, but there was something so soft and so sincere in his reply that it made your stomach do flips. Aaron yawned, probably not even giving a second thought to his reply, and pulled you in closer to him. 

  “Yeah,” you conceded, closing your eyes. “Indian sounds good.” You could deal with the butterflies later.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #my best habit #my writing

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 11 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: GENE PAGE/AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Part 11! The reader has to greet the newcomers and try to convince Michonne to do the right thing...

Word Count: 2584

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Off My Mind” by Radio Company

Note: Bit more of a filler, but I am slowly trying to map out the timeline that extends from the beginning of the whisperers all the way through s10 finale. I am going to be staying as close to canon as possible with a few changes. For example, Negan getting out, certain deaths, and of course Alpha and company. There will be spoilers in the upcoming chapters.

------

Staring at the group in front of you, you felt an immense amount of pressure building in your chest. 

The man before you, Luke, was still gripping your hand. He was waiting for you to say something, but your brain was moving a mile a minute. Not just because of Negan, but because you hadn’t been faced with a decision such as this one. Michonne was the one to make the rules.

It was an unspoken thing, her reign over Alexandria. Before Rick had died, he was the one in charge, but since the bridge incident, the council had been born. However, everyone knew that if Michonne said no, that was the law and she would not be happy with what was happening right now. 

“This isn’t my decision,” you said, taking back your hand from the stranger and giving your full attention to Aaron. 

“It is now,” he said, and coming up behind him was Gabriel who was nodding in agreement. You looked back to the newcomers and noticed one of the women was signing to another, translating everything that was going on. You also noticed that the woman who was injured wasn’t looking much better. 

“(Y/N),” Judith said, pulling your attention. You looked down at the girl, worry still on her freckled face. “This is Luke, Connie, Kelly, Magna, and Yumiko. They need medicine and water, please.” All you wanted to do was be there for the little girl, but you had never been put in this position before. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. “Michonne, your mom, she needs to be the one to make this decision.” Judith frowned, ready to make her case when suddenly the far gate opened and you heard the unmistakable pounding of hooves along the road. Michonne was home. “Oh, thank god,” you whispered.

“(Y/N), please,” Judith begged. You reached down and squeezed the hand that was gripping the bottom of your shirt. 

“I’m sorry, Jude, but it’s up to your mom,” you said, and with barely a glance towards Luke and Company, you jogged over to Michonne as she dismounted from her horse. 

“What is this?” Michonne asked, already seeing the small group forming around the others. 

“Judith found them,” you explained and it was enough for Michonne to rub the space between her eyebrows. 

“My kid, always the good one,” she muttered and then let out a deep sigh. It was then that you could already tell what she was thinking and it wasn’t good. 

“Michonne,” you began, “just let Siddiq look at the woman. She’s hurt and Judith saved them. I know your rules, but we’ll keep them under guard.”

“You know that we can’t,” Michonne said, her hand snaking back around her waist to hold onto the sheath that held her katana. You noticed that she did that whenever she was on edge. It seemed that was her natural state these days, not that you could blame her. Michonne had seen enough terror in her life to last a lifetime.

“We are better than this and you know it,” you challenged. Michonne blinked at your strong tone but relaxed her arms. 

“I am thinking of our people, (Y/N),” she said back, staring you down. 

“And you don’t think I am? Alexandria has always been a place of refuge. What would our people think if we just said, ‘good luck people, go and fend for your damn selves,’?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“We did,” Michonne reminded you and your mind flashed back to those days on the road after Terminus. You glared at the woman, knowing that she was trying to get you to cave, but you had dealt with enough of your own bullshit over the years. 

“Aaron found us,” you argued. “He invited us here and you were one of the only ones to convince Rick to accept Alexandria. Aaron took a chance on us and because of us, we helped this place thrive. Hilltop, Kingdom, Oceanside, all of them accepted us and we helped them because we believed that there were more good people out there.” 

“You weren’t there, (Y/N),” Michonne said and you knew what she was referring to. Only she and Daryl had witnessed the horrors of Jocelyn. You weren’t even sure if Judith remembered the day she was taken. 

“I know,” you said, this time your tone much softer. “However, I also know that we are not the kind of people who have stopped caring.” She was quiet for a moment, thinking over your words and eventually she hung her head before looking back towards Aaron. Her eyes fell on her daughter who was looking at her with those big brown eyes of her and the determination of a Grimes. She looked back at you and then nodded. 

“I will speak to the council,” she settled on and you sighed, 

“Thank you, Michonne,” you said and she nodded once before grabbing her bag and heading over to her daughter who was still looking at her with a pleading expression. Not wanting to intrude, you decided to head out of the community to make sure that nobody had followed them 

The last thing you needed was for Michonne to blame you for something you championed for.

------

You had killed a lot of Walkers since the beginning of the Apocalypse, but it still never failed to gross you out. 

Once you realized that the group had been alone, after all, you began the trek back towards Alexandria. Nevertheless, the monsters of the new world had still managed to ruin your day. After fighting through a small pack of them, you were exhausted.

Your mind began to wander towards Hilltop as you walked through the woods. You hadn’t been to see Jesus in some time and you were missing him a lot. When you had met the eccentric man the day Rick and Daryl dragged him into Alexandria, the two of you had connected almost immediately.

With your skills as a long-distance fighter and his close-quarter combat ones, you were an unusual, but strong duo. You often worked as a spotter for the man, keeping your hand on the Walkie as he fought through hoards of Walkers or smaller groups of Saviors. Then, when Paul had approached you about taking the survivors of a Savior outpost back to Hilltop to keep them as prisoners instead of killing them, you had backed him. 

Maggie was not thrilled that you were not willing to kill the Saviors, but that wasn’t how you thought anymore. You knew that you had to kill to survive some times, you had even done it yourself, but there came a time when the killing had to end. 

Jesus always told you that holding grudges would never amount to anything and you believed him. It was why you had never told anyone that Rick had actually come to you to discuss what he was going to do with Negan.

You had told Negan that there wasn’t a vote, but what it actually was, was a conversation between you and the man you trusted most in your life. You weren’t sure if even Michonne knew what was going to happen on that field when Rick slit open Negan’s throat. 

That day had been one that nobody wanted to remember. There was already too much loss on both sides and after losing Carl, nobody wanted there to be more carnage.

Well, except for Maggie Rhee.

You couldn’t even begin to think about what she would be thinking right now if she knew what you were feeling when it came to the man who murdered her husband. 

You were close to Maggie once, but after Glenn died, the two of you had begun to pull away from each other. You both missed Glenn, but while you were just trying to resolve the issue, Maggie was out for revenge. Never once did you blame her for it, she had every right to want Negan dead, but you weren’t so sure that Negan was still that man. 

At least that was what you felt. 

As you approached the main gates of your home, that analytical side of you, the one that made you such a great teacher, began hounding you. You couldn’t stop all the scenarios that ran through your head and all the possible negative reactions that could happen if anyone outside of Alexandria found out about you and Negan.

However, there was still one thing that offered you comfort. You knew that your best friend, Paul, would not judge you and as you stepped into Alexandria, you felt the urge to run all the way to Hilltop. Instead, you let Eugene roll the gate behind you and seal it shut.

--------

The next day, Judith Grimes sat on the steps of her home as she did her homework.

“Airplane ‘A’ and airplane ‘B’ are 1000 miles apart. If airplane ‘A’ is flying east at 500 miles per hour and airplane ‘B’ is flying west at 650 miles per hour, how…”

“You know what?” Negan interrupted, “I would definitely recommend booking a seat on airplane ‘C,’ because that is shaping up to be one hell of a mid-air collision.”

“You gonna help me or what?” Judith asked with a frown, the small sheriff figurine in her hand as she read from her textbook. Negan chuckled, watching her from the small window of his cell. 

“All right. Let me ask you somethin',” he began, “you ever seen an airplane fly in any direction, at any speed?” 

“No,” Judith said. 

“Do you think you ever will?” Negan asked. 

“Probably not,” Judith said. 

“So, what the hell difference does it make?” Negan asked. “See, math problems are supposed to apply to the real world. You want my help? Give me a question or a problem from right here, right now.” Judith was silent for a moment as Negan waited patiently for her to continue, but instead of math, she diverted the conversation. 

“You know the strangers we brought here yesterday? My mom's gonna make them leave,” Judith said with a sigh, pushing up the brim of her hat slightly. 

“Well, no, I didn't know,” Negan said with a smile, “but let me guess. You being you, you wanna help 'em.”

“I found 'em. I brought 'em here,” Judith argued. 

“What does (Y/N) think? Ain’t they second in command or somethin’?” Negan asked, wondering where your head was at. 

“They think that they should be able to stay,” Judith revealed, closing her book and bracing her elbows on the cover. 

“Does your mom agree?” Negan asked. 

“No, but (Y/N) got her to let Laura stay after the war,” Judith explained. “They’ll get Mom to let these people stay too. I’m almost positive.” That bit of news had Negan slightly surprised. 

“They wanted Laura to stay?”  he asked. While he knew that Laura was the tamer of his former fighters, she was still a Savior and he didn’t think her transition into Alexandria would have been that easy. 

“(Y/N) wanted as many people to live after the war as possible,” Judith told him, “They don’t like it when people die. I like that about them.”

“Me too,” Negan said softly. 

“What are you two chattin’ about?” you said as you approached the duo. Negan’s eyes lit up as you came into view, a bottle of water swinging from your fingers as you looked at Judith with a smirk on your lips. 

“Math,” Judith said nonchalantly. 

“Mmhmm,” you said, not buying it for a second. “Your momma is askin’ for you, Jude,” you said with a nod towards her house behind her. 

“Okay, fine,” Judith said with a sigh. 

“Wait a minute,” Negan said, “Where you going? I thought you wanted my help.” you looked over at him with a smile and he sent you a wink. 

“I do, but just with math,” Judith said, gathering up her stuff.

“Why just math?” he asked. 

“Because it doesn't matter if you're a good or bad person on the inside. The numbers don't care,” she said with a shrug as she jogged up the steps and into her house. You watched her, your mouth open in shock. 

“Wow,” Negan said as soon as the door closed behind her. “Since when is she that sassy?”

“Since she was born,” you said with a snort as you leaned against the gate, turning your back to him. “Just lettin’ ya know, shit might start hittin’ the fan. Michonne is on edge.” 

“Ain’t she always?” Negan asked with a sigh. “This about the newcomers the kid found?” You nodded, twisting off the cap of your bottle.

“She thinks Hilltop will take them. Apparently, the meeting didn’t go too well. One of the women is a bit… edgy.”

“Will Maggie take them?” Negan asked. 

“It’s not up to Maggie. It’ll be up to Jesus and Tara,” you explained. “Maggie isn’t at Hilltop.”

“No?” Negan asked in that curious tone you liked so much. 

“She went away for a bit,” you said, “At least that’s what Enid told me last time I talked to her.”

“So what does this mean?” 

“It means that Michonne is going to have to finally talk to the people we once considered friends.”

“And you?” he asked. 

“I am going to have to keep my head on a swivel,” you said with a sigh. All the drama that had come up hadn’t helped the insomnia that had crept up on you in the past couple of weeks. 

“Which you will, of course,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“You really have so much faith in me, don’t you?” you asked with a sly smile. 

“I like to put my money on people I know will win,” Negan said and you just knew he was shrugging.

“What exactly is the competition?”  you wondered. 

“Life,” he simply said. 

“I am not so sure you can win at life, Negan,” you said with a small chuckle, drinking from your bottle.

“I don’t know, (Y/N), I seem to be doing pretty damn well,” he said, his voice lower and you almost choked on your water right then.  You weren’t quite sure what to follow with after that statement and he seemed to realize. “Too strong?” he asked, worried he may have pushed it a bit far. 

“No, no,” you said, turning to face him. “I just, uh,...” you tried to find the words.

“You’re blushin’,” he pointed out with a sly smirk.

“It’s hot,” you said. 

“Not really,” he whispered back. 

“Shut up.”

“Is that a challenge?” he asked with a quirk of his brow. 

“It’s an order. I am still technically your warden.”

“I thought that was only when I was in your bed,” he said as he wet his lips with that grin of his. 

“You were never in my bed, just beside it,” you clarified.

“Optics,” he said with a  wink, and you were reminded of the time you had said the same thing to him when discussing the details of who started the war. Pushing off the gate, you straightened your clothes. 

“I am going to go and do something...something else,” you said, still flustered. 

“Yeah, maybe ask Siddiq about what to do about a heatstroke,” he teased and you flipped him off. “How adorable,” he cooed. 

“I hate you!” you called as you walked away.

“No, you don’t!” he yelled back and you chuckled under your breath. 

No, you really didn’t.

TAGS: amaroho  @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland​ @halszka-potter​ @yespleasejayhalstead​ @fmunegan @hoemadegrace

#walkerwords #twd imagine #twd fics #twd fanfiction #negan x reader #negan imagine #the walking dead #savior sessions #Negan

[spencers-renaissance]

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch. 4

what you can do with what there is

Chapter Three

This is the fourth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Last Chapter: some time passed and Spencer is still struggling, especially after he felt betrayed by Rossi on the Solitary Man case. Georgetown tried to recruit Spencer to run their Chemistry department.

In This Chapter: Aaron comes to some heartbreaking realisations, gets very protective, and Stuff Happens in Alaska.

TW: haley & foyet as well as grief mentioned; chapter centres on an outsider's view of depression.

Word Count: 4.4k

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

AARON

Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is. — Ernest Hemmingway, The Old Man and the Sea

Much of the year passes in somewhat of a blur for Aaron. He focuses on looking after Jack, dedicating absolutely everything he has to his son when he’s at home while throwing himself into the cases that come across his desk at work.

A small part of him he’d thought was dead regenerates as his work serves as a stark reminder of all the people he saves, all the good he can do with his job still. Maybe he couldn’t save Haley — something that will no doubt haunt him for the rest of his days — but he can save other people’s loved ones. There is still good to do, and he tries to draw his strength from that.

Grief, of course, still flickers relentlessly in his heart, and no matter how hard he tries he can’t quite seem to extinguish the flame burning its way through the tired tissue, but at least the smouldering doesn’t hurt quite so viscerally anymore. He’s learned to live with it. Getting up in the morning feels easier day by day, and sometimes he’s even able to look at Jack without seeing Haley’s face — and if he does, it doesn’t punch him in the gut in quite the way it used to.

As soon as he’s back to work he tries as hard as he can to keep an eye on Spencer, but the hectic nature of the cases and the younger man’s talent for melting into the background when he wants to is making it far harder than he’d like. He’d come over to his place a few times after Aaron had invited him to stay for lunch and he’d seemed a little more comfortable each time, brightening up considerably as he sat on the sofa with Aaron or let Jack take him on a tour through his lego sets.

The problem is that even though Aaron knows Spencer’s mental state is deteriorating, he has no idea how to bring it up. Sometimes it’s even easy to miss: it doesn’t affect his work, he avoids the rest of them as much as possible — Aaron and Penelope appearing to be the only exceptions for some reason — and his fake smiles seem to have the others on the team pretty much convinced.

He can’t exactly order him into his office and demand to know what’s going on, especially since his work is still exemplary, nor does it seem tactful to bring it up when Spencer is sitting on the floor playing trains with his son. Broaching the subject of emotions isn’t something either of them are exactly comfortable with, and he knows he’ll scare him off if he ambushes him.

Something had changed after their case in New Mexico, but he still can’t quite put his finger on what. An element of relief has been playing over Spencer’s face and body language; something of the deep uneasiness he’d been carrying lifted.

He’d be relieved if Spencer had had even a single conversation with him outside of work since that case. Surely if he was genuinely feeling better his visits to Aaron’s apartment would only increase, but they’ve stopped altogether.

Between working hard to distract himself from the pain of losing Haley and looking after Jack, he just can’t figure it out.

That is, until the Alaska case.

🌧

Aaron makes a point to get on the jet last. Spencer’s been avoiding him, but if he chooses a seat first, then Aaron can slide into the seat opposite. He doesn’t exactly have a game plan, but he wants to at least stick close to Spencer, to have at least one conversation with him.

Having him close has felt more and more essential recently. He chalks it up to feeling Spencer’s avoidance all too acutely, but really — if he’s being completely honest with himself — he knows it’s more than that; something deep inside him is shifting. If it is what he thinks it is, he’s in for a world of trouble.

The jet always feels cosy at night, the soft lighting and comfortable seating a decent environment to get a nap in, and as he climbs in, the door closing behind him, he sees the rest of the team getting ready for a few hours of sleep before they debrief an hour or so before landing. Spencer’s tucked into the corner closest to the door, feet curled up under him as he faces towards the window, the blackness of the night and warm light of the plane reflecting his tight, pensive face.

As he slides in opposite him, Spencer’s eyes open briefly. He’s careful to school his expression, but Aaron sees the turmoil in the miniscule movements of his face muscles. He wants to wrap him up in his arms and hold him until his anxiety passes but he doubts that would be helpful: he’s clearly playing at least a part in the pain Spencer’s going through.

“Okay?” he murmurs, as the quiet roar of the jet engines starting up gives them a little privacy for conversation.

Spencer nods, keeping his eyes closed as he shifts a little. Maybe it’s the gentle illumination of the cabin or maybe it’s just one of the first real times of clarity and concentration he’s had in months — barring his fierce focus on the cases — but in this moment Aaron notices. He notices how Spencer’s lost a significant amount of weight, how his face is gaunt and exhausted, his body language tense and self-protective. It’s like all the confusion that’s been playing across his mind is answered in an instant.

Aaron’s stomach clenches with guilt. How did he ever let it get this bad? How did he not see? How has everyone else not seen?

He’s been operating in such a haze of trauma and grief it’s as though he’s been floating through life, not focusing on anybody but Jack longer than necessary. Even when Spencer was sitting on his couch and clamming up whenever he brought the team up or discussed something that made him uncomfortable for some unfathomable reason, he just couldn’t see it. He’s been so wrapped up in himself and Jack, he’d missed the signs of someone who means so much to him spiralling down into a black pit of… what? Exhaustion? Despair? Misery?

Aaron clears his throat. “Spencer,” he starts — it feels more appropriate to use his first name — as they take off towards Alaska, “you can be honest with me.” He tries for gentleness, and reaches across the small table between them to brush Spencer’s hand with the pads of his fingers; meant to be a reassuring, non-assuming touch.

His stomach does a somersault as his fingers meet Spencer’s cold skin. As much as he wants to pretend it’s nervousness, some sort of anticipation, plain and simple worry for the wellbeing of a colleague, he can’t. Every fibre of his being is begging him to take Spencer’s hands in his, hold them until they warm up again, until his eyes open and meet his own, until he climbs into Aaron’s lap and lets him make everything better.

Instead, Spencer’s eyes squeeze tighter as a small tear makes its way past his eyelashes, sliding down his pale cheek and Aaron’s chest burns at the sight.

“Oh, Spencer,” he says, voice hoarse as emotion crawls up from his chest, invading his throat. “I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not noticing sooner, sorry you’re in so much pain, sorry I can’t make it better.

Spencer just shakes his head, eyes still tight and wrinkled, withdrawing his hand from where it’s still resting under Hotch’s cautious touch. “Not your fault,” he whispers eventually, bringing himself together enough to manage a watery, self-deprecating smile. “I’m being ridiculous.” He wipes another tear away and inhales deeply, letting out slowly as he looks down in his lap. “I’m tired and we need to sleep before we get to Alaska. Can this wait? Please?”

He’s definitely telling the truth. His eyes are dark and every muscle in his body is belying his exhaustion, there’s no question about that.

Aaron knows he needs to relent. Spencer is right, they all need their rest so they can focus their full attention on the case once they arrive in Alaska, and it’s not like he’s going to spill his soul to Aaron on a jet surrounded by people he doesn’t seem all too happy with.

“Okay,” he sighs, trying to school his face rid of anything that could be construed as pity as he tries for something closer to empathy. “Let’s talk about it after this case.” He doesn’t add a question or leave any room for argument: he’s going to get the truth out of Spencer if it kills him.

Spencer nods once, closing his eyes and drawing even tighter in on himself. Aaron doesn’t quite trust he’s really agreeing — he’s holding something back; his face is a little too blank to be natural, his body language tense, and Aaron isn’t inclined to believe it’s simply apprehension for such a conversation. But pushing won’t get him anywhere. He takes his comfort in at least knowing now, knowing what to look out for, knowing he needs to protect Spencer, as well as a tentative agreement.

He closes his eyes, not intending to sleep but to think. Something’s gone horribly wrong, and he needs to figure out what. With Spencer involved, he’ll move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of it.

Emily and Derek are taken on a tour of the small town as soon as they arrive by seaplane, and the rest of them are directed to Carol’s Tavern by the Sheriff. Aaron tries not to be obvious, but he can’t help himself from hovering a little closer to Spencer than normal, itching for an excuse to touch him as they enter the inn and start to set up.

Spencer sits quietly in an armchair, speed-reading through the existing files and documents on the case supplied by the police department, and he looks so small Aaron wants to cry. He didn’t have weight to lose in the first place: he’s skin and bones and he looks utterly exhausted. He’s flipping through the papers slower than usual, rubbing his eyes and face constantly as his leg bounces up and down. It’s so unlike Spencer, Aaron has to ask himself again in utter bewilderment how on earth a team of FBI profilers all missed this.

“Everything okay?” Dave asks as he sidles up to where Aaron is standing, pretending to fiddle on his phone while he sneaks covert looks in Spencer’s direction.

Aaron’s known Dave long enough to hear the implication in his voice, and he fights to keep his cool, to keep the blush off his face. “Yeah,” he says as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring whatever he’s trying to imply. “The Sheriff is going to escort me to the police office as soon as he wraps up talking with Carol. I want you and Spencer to head to the ME.” Even if Spencer is having problems with people on the team, surely Dave will be a comforting fatherly presence. As much as he itches to go with him instead, that would only raise suspicion, and he knows Spencer would never forgive him for that.

“I hear it’s actually the town doctor,” Dave says, raising an eyebrow, “not an ME. But we’ll head out as soon as you do.”

The Sheriff wanders over and Aaron sends Dave a flat-lipped smile and follows him out of the inn. He catches a final look at Spencer’s bone-weary face as Dave collects him to go to the doctor’s office, and nothing registers on Dave’s face to say he’s noticed Spencer’s misery; he simply taps him on the shoulder, tells him where they’re going, and collects his coat.

To some extent, he forgives himself for not noticing Spencer’s suffering despite the guilt he still feels, but the rest of the team — Dave, his father figure — not seeing it, not reaching out, not doing everything they can to alleviate it feels unforgivable.

Anger rises in his chest as they walk the short distance to the police office. How long has it been like this? No wonder Spencer was so cagey when he bought up the team: they abandoned him in his hour of need. He forces the swelling fury down as they walk into the building as best he can though; it’s unproductive and they have a case to solve. He’s going to work relentlessly until it is, until they can fly home and he can fix this.

They regroup back at the inn that evening, sharing their facts and theories from the day’s work. The fire is going, a cosy antidote to the freezing Alaska air outside, and Aaron’s sure he would probably feel quite content if he wasn’t so damn worried about Spencer.

It’s the sort of place he could properly relax and enjoy on holiday. Haley was always a two-weeks-in-Europe kind of person, but he’s always preferred a cosy, private cabin in the middle of winter. His therapist has slowly got him used to the idea of one day moving on with someone new, and he thinks that maybe he’ll have to revisit Alaska and take that person with him one day.

(He ignores the part of his heart that longs for that person to be Spencer.)

“Alright, so we have a psychopath with hunting skills who knows the routines of everybody in town,” JJ sighs, resting her head on her palm, curled into the corner of one of the sofas. “How do we keep everybody safe?”

“Sheriff, I suggest you institute a curfew until we have the unsub in custody,” Aaron says, voice grave. “Nobody out after dark.”

“I’ll have one of my deputies patrolling around the clock.”

He nods. “Garcia, how’s it coming with town records?”

“I've run everyone who's been printed through CODIS, nothing's come up so far. I'm gonna pull an all-nighter, finish going through the town records — should have background checks by sunrise.”

“Good,” he says, nodding appreciatively in her direction. His eyes are still half-watching Spencer. “The rest of us should get some sleep, start fresh in the morning.”

“I’ve got four of the rooms available upstairs,” Carol says, clearly anticipating less than pleased reactions.

Spencer’s head snaps up at that, “uh, four?” Anxiety is written across his face, not for the first time today, and Aaron itches to hold his hand, calm his worries. His instincts, let alone his feelings, are getting harder and harder to ignore.

“It's the best we can do. Your team is double the size of my department,” the Sheriff replies, somewhat harshly as he gets up to leave. Aaron winces at the way it makes Spencer draw in on himself, almost flinching at his tone. “See you in the morning.”

“Looks like we’ll have to double up,” Aaron says, inching closer to Spencer’s armchair. He ignores the Sheriff’s good night. Anyone who speaks even somewhat rudely to Spencer doesn’t deserve niceties.

Immediately, Derek scoffs. “I’m not sleeping with Reid,” he says, and it’s so out of the blue that Aaron nearly does a double take. How uncalled for, he thinks, and his heart sinks at the sight of Spencer retreating further inside himself, a hurt, bewildered expression colouring his features.

(He once again ignores the part of his brain that responds to Derek’s comment with ‘I’d like to’. That is wildly unhelpful right now.)

“Dibs,” Penelope says, resting her hand on his forearm as they share loving glances with one another, but Aaron barely pays them any attention, his eyes glued to Spencer and his heartbroken expression. He realises that it probably feels like a double rejection for him, both Penelope and Derek choosing each other for him.

“I’ll sleep alone,” Dave says knowingly, coming up behind him and resting his hands on both his shoulders for a moment before grabbing his bag and heading upstairs, room key in hand.

Spencer seems frozen in time, thoughts clearly going a million miles an hour, so Aaron waits until JJ and Emily have paired off and gone upstairs with Derek and Penelope before crouching down in front of Spencer’s armchair.

“Hey,” he says softly, touching his palm to Spencer’s arm briefly. As soon as his eyes come back into focus, a flash of that expression Aaron hasn’t been able to put his finger on — relief? — whips across his face before he carefully schools it into neutrality. Aaron can still see the undertones of pain and betrayal written in his eyes, though. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

Spencer starts at that. “You want to share a room with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Aaron asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He shakes his head and gathers himself, grabbing his bag and heading to the stairs without replying.

Aaron enters the room a moment after him, surprised to see the ensuite light on and door locked already. He heads towards the only bed in the room, a spacious double, and dumps his bag before sitting on the edge and fixing his eyes on the motel art hanging on the wall opposite him. He takes a deep breath in before exhaling slowly: he can do this, he can share a bed with Spencer and not make it weird.

It’s a good few minutes before Spencer exits the bathroom, changed into a relaxed t-shirt and pajama bottoms with his long hair combed and fluffy around his shoulders. Aaron tries very hard not to think how utterly delectable he looks and simply offers a small smile as Spencer approaches the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor if you prefer,” Aaron says, completely sincere. He’d do anything to make Spencer more comfortable. Any other time he’d expect Spencer to stay polite and insist it’s fine, but this version of the younger man seems to be teetering on the edge of reckless carelessness and furious irritation just precariously enough to say what he really means.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Spencer crawls under the duvet, not meeting Aaron’s eyes as a blush colours his cheeks. “The bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Aaron gets ready for bed as quickly as he can before joining Spencer under the covers, feeling the warmth of his body heat and desperately craving more. He tries to stamp those feelings down. He’s only recently lost Haley, and where did this ridiculous crush on his youngest subordinate come from anyway? He squeezes his eyes tightly shut for a minute as his chest tightens with the flood of all these confusing emotions before he turns his attention towards the man lying next to him.

“Spencer?” he whispers, rolling over to face him.

He doesn’t respond, just turns his head a little and blinks slowly.

“Derek shouldn’t have said what he said in the lobby,” he murmurs carefully, not wanting to upset him. “I’m sorry.”

Aaron feels the mattress move as Spencer tenses up, curling in on himself but not turning to face the other way. He can’t help it when he reaches out to place his hand on top of Spencer’s clutched, freezing fingers.

“What do you think he meant?” Spencer whispers, voice vulnerable and strained as his big, blinking eyes meet Aaron’s.

Aaron swallows as his stomach dips at the intensity of sad, hazel eyes staring into his own, and he squeezes Spencer’s hands a little tighter. “I don’t know, Spencer,” he says sadly. “I really don’t. He probably didn’t mean anything by it, but it was cruel and uncalled for. He’s the one missing out.” He smiles a little in the soft light of the streetlamp streaming in through the curtains, trying to convince Spencer how serious he is.

A gallery of emotions play out across Spencer’s face. They’re gone too quickly for Aaron to read, but he can gather enough to know he’s conflicted about something.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” he promises softly. He feels so unprofessional right now, but there’s nothing he can do to stop himself: Spencer is hurting and every part of him is itching to make it better. His reasons are unimportant and irrelevant at this moment in time, all that matters is Spencer’s well-being.

Spencer looks away at that, shifting a little as he pulls his hands away from Aaron’s. “We should get some sleep,” he says quietly, rolling away to face the window.

Neither of them sleep for hours.

He keeps Spencer as close as possible for the rest of the case, and once they’ve finally wrapped it up — Aaron quietly proud of how clever Spencer is for figuring out the driving motive for the unsub — they clamber onto the jet and collapse into their seats.

It’s nice to be flying home in daylight for once, but the bright light of the clear sky is clearly hurting Spencer’s head as he curls into himself in the same corner he chose on the journey there. The first thing he does when he sits down is close the shutter, heart fluttering at Spencer’s thankful smile.

Aaron works through his paperwork as Spencer sits opposite him silently, not joining in with anybody’s conversations like he used to do, instead seeming totally wrapped up in his own head. It’s nice to sit in the configuration they’re both so used to, although Aaron definitely prefers to sit at the other end of the jet, and he’d relax into it a little more if Spencer wasn’t so obviously in pain. He cracks on with his work, trying his best to focus on the knowledge that the second they get back to Quantico, he can talk with Spencer and they can get started on fixing what’s wrong.

“Hotch?” Spencer says quietly, unravelling himself from his curled ball as they approach landing.

Aaron looks up from his careful organising of the case notes into his binder, and can’t help it when his face softens the second he meets Spencer’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, looking a little fearful for some reason. “When we get back to the office?”

Aaron is immediately torn between feeling elated that Spencer wants to confide in him and not completely trusting that this is a good thing. Spencer didn’t exactly seem like he was chomping at the bit to have the kind of conversation Aaron is hoping for, and he doubts that two nights of sharing a bed changed that drastically.

“Of course,” he says, regardless of his doubts, but his suspicion is only raised when Spencer’s expression turns to something like shame at Aaron’s cautious smile, turning to look out the window instead.

Aaron watches as Spencer eases himself into the chair opposite his desk as soon as they get into his office, wringing his hands as he waits for him to situate himself. Watching his body language, he’s still torn: this really could go either way, but his gut is telling him to prepare for the worst. Aaron prays he’s wrong, but he knows that this is instinct; his subconscious has picked up on things he isn’t even aware of and it’s telling him to brace himself.

“I’m resigning,” Spencer says. “Effective immediately.”

Aaron’s head swims, his vision blurs, his heart pounds — considering the implications of Spencer Reid resigning from the BAU is dizzying him. He does his best to keep his cool, but Spencer is a profiler. He’ll be able to see the raging emotions through the cracks in his mask.

“Is…” he starts, before clearing his throat and briefly glancing down at the table, “is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

Spencer shakes his head, despondency evident on his face. Did he really manage to miss such miserable expressions all this time, or has Spencer finally stopped concealing them now he doesn’t have anything to lose?

“I can’t do this anymore, Hotch,” he says, allowing himself to be vulnerable with Aaron again, and despite the circumstances, he treasures that trust more than anything. “I’m tired. I don’t want it to affect my work, and I have no joy in this anymore. I’ve been offered a position at Georgetown, and I’m accepting it.”

When Spencer joined the bureau at 22, three years below the standard eligibility age, one of the conditions of his contract had been the ability to resign without notice: the brass’s attempt at insuring his mental health and covering their own asses. Three years away from a contract renewal, the condition remains, and Spencer is free to leave if he wants to. Even if it makes Aaron’s heart sick.

“I’m… incredibly sorry to see you go, Spencer.” He’s sort of at a loss for words. “I hope you know that you can still talk to me, even when you leave. I know you’re unhappy, I know there’s something going on and I want to help. This team is a family, and that doesn’t change just because someone leaves to do something else.”

“Well, I’m not sure how welcome I really am in this family,” Spencer responds, an edge of bitterness in his tone that catches Aaron off-guard.

“What do you mean? Is it what Derek said?” Aaron knows it’s something bigger than that, but he still hasn’t figured out what. He knows Spencer’s been a bit left out since everything happened with Foyet, but the specifics are lost on him, and he’s desperate to know, desperate to fix this.

Spencer deflates, suddenly looking incredibly tired. “No, I—” he trails off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worrying about it, Spencer,” he says, firm and kind. “I worry about you. I care about you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. But I need to go home. I’m exhausted,” Spencer says slowly, standing up to leave. Aaron’s at a loss for what to say so just stands up with him, hoping against hope that this isn’t the last time he sees him. Spencer pauses in the doorway. “Did you mean… what you said? That I can talk to you still?” His voice is small and apprehensive, refusing to meet Aaron’s eye.

He softens at that, feeling some of the intense emotions raging inside of him quieten as he looks at the smaller man standing in his doorway, hanging on with his fingernails. “Yes,” he promises quietly. “I meant every word. You can call me anytime, day or night. If you think I’m just going to let you walk out of my life, Spencer, you’re sorely mistaken.” His voice is fierce, emotional in a way he doesn’t often allow.

Spencer meets his eyes then, and Aaron wants to drown in them, consequences be damned. “Thank you, Aaron,” he whispers quietly, before he opens the door and makes his way across the bullpen, both ignoring and ignored by Emily and Derek chatting happily at their desks.

He doesn’t turn around this time, and Aaron doesn’t wave. He sits at his desk, and he cries.

Chapter Five

If this chapter brought anything up for you, hotlines are in the endnotes of the AO3 version of this fic. Bigger countries are listed and a link is included if you live somewhere else in the world.

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