#fuck aaron hall

[hotpinkhairpick]

hey btw diddy is now (as of nov. 25, 2023) being sued by two different women for rape

www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/sean-combs-third-sexual-assault-lawsuit-1234895582/

all of this comes off the heels of his landmark lawsuit with cassie, where she also accused him of rape, as well as abuse and trafficking

if you're wondering why all of this is coming out in such a short amount of time (it's been >10 days since cassie first filed and settled), this past week was the deadline for the new york adult survivors act, which (basically) gives adult survivors the opportunity to seek legal action for assaults that took place before ny's 20 year statute of limitations

i'll post a comprehensive list of all the celebrities that have been sued in a little while, but for now, keep spreading the word about diddy

and spread the word about aaron hall as well, he is just as big of a predator as diddy is

#diddy #p diddy #sean combs #tw abuse #tw rape #believe survivors #believe victims #bad boy #fuck diddy #fuck sean combs #aaron hall #guy #teddy riley #fuck aaron hall

[maschotch]

I would love to hear your thoughts about Hotch and fire because I never really noticed it but when you point it out it does stand out as something he gets VERY affected by very quickly

its not the most obvious pattern, which is par for the course when it comes to anything relating to hotch’s past. but i think its sooo interesting that hotch seems to be on edge/more emotional when they deal with cases involving fire. in ashes and dust he seems particularly moved talking to the burn victim and insists on being the one to speak to her; in house on fire he averts his eyes from the burnt corpses and has a shorter temper; in devil’s night he’s antsy the whole case and makes brash decisions (like running into a burning building???)

its subtle changes, so subtle that im not entirely convinced im not just hallucinating it all, but it seems like there’s something there. especially during the final confrontation with the unsubs in each of those episodes: the steel-faced hotch is gone, and he seems incapable of hiding his fear. in devil’s night he has a hard time looking away from the unsub’s lighter; in house on fire he keeps glancing down at the spilled gasoline. if it was anyone else i wouldnt pay any mind, but hotch is known for staring down death (like with foyet). he’s.. uncharacteristically emotional

i feel like something must have happened. even gideon—who has better insight on hotch’s past than anyone—seems concerned when hotch volunteers to go to the burn ward or gets distracted looking at a child’s burnt shoe on the ground. the way hotch lingers on the picture of the mother with her son… something mustve happened in the past for him to take this so personally

im not sure what it is. again, we dont really know anything about hotch’s background (and what we do know is frequently contradicted a couple seasons later—like the way his father died) so its not like we have a lot to work with. simply because of his interaction with charlotte cutler, i think it might have something to do with his mom? we dont know anything about her outside other than her attending mary baldwin. there are just so many unknown variables and oddly intimate moments of connection he has with various abused-sons throughout the seasons

was he in a fire growing up? was his mother? maybe his mom was inside and he stood helpless on the outside, unable to save her? was it an arsonist? was it his father? or was it his mother herself—tired of her life and trying to tear it all down with her? was it all just a horrible accident? was it before or after his father’s death? was his mom dying the final push for hotch to stand up to his father?

there are just… so many questions. so many possibilities. but, whatever happened, hotch is definitely afraid of fire.

#r there too many links? i wanted to cite my sources lol #asks #aaron hotchner #i feel like i should have a cm meta tag but i feel like its too fucking late #anyway. #my personal fav potential backstory is his mom going crazy #full on wander the halls; yellow wallpaper; haunting of hill house crazy lady long white dress mom shit #and--wanting to spare her sons from suffering any further--sets the house ablaze; not realizing no one else is inside #(or maybe baby sean is inside and he's the only hotch can get out?) #if it happened before his dad's death then i think this moment drove hotch to finally kill him #if it happened after his dad's death.. it means his mom is Way Crazier than we thought #and i think it'd be fun if it was shortly after hotch started going through puberty #so he's getting taller and he's starting to look more like his father #and his mom (unable to come to terms with her husband's death--unable to come to terms w her son killing her husband) rejects that reality #she gets confused and think aaron is the one who died. and when aaron tries to approach her she recoils as tho he was his father #he gets Freaked the Fuck Out by that #then goes to get groceries or some shit and when he comes back the house is in flames #smth like that #very emo very wattpad #but its MY headcanon i can be cringe if i want

[spicysucculentz]

every pic I see of Aaron Rodgers with the jets gets me exponentially more excited😮‍💨 I was an avid Aaron Rodgers hater for years but now that he’s a jet??? And he got rid of that stupid ass haircut??? I’m excited ngl! He’s fucking weird but one of the best QBs to ever play the game so I’ll take it !!!! Best win now option by far oh my god I’m so excited

#spicy speaks #draft got me even more excited #fuck I miss football #I love football so much #whewww #seeing Aaron at the rangers game tonight with Allen Lazard breece hall and others had me so excited #those are OUR boys right there babyyyy!!! #welcome to New York😍 #most exciting thing to happen to this franchise probably in my lifetime #new york jets #aaron rodgers

[aaron-stone]

WHAT 👏 DO 👏 YOU 👏 KNOW 👏 ABOUT 👏 TRUST 👏

#YOU TELL HIM CHARLIE FUCK HALL #AND DTOP CALLING HIM AARON #213

[show-your-fangs]

What about a teenage!Jack where his friends are over and keep commenting how his Mom (reader) is attractive and Aaron finds it funny but Jack is mortified?

this is fucking GOLD. enjoy another installment of moments au

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 665

CW: nothing, cursing mostly.

Tags/warnings: jack's friends being pervs, cursing, jack defending his mom and dad.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Aaron honestly couldn’t blame them. He honestly found it funny, how their cheeks would flush every time you walked past, seconds away from catching them saying the most inappropriate things about you. He knew they didn’t know he could hear them from his office, the angle keeping him hidden as he tried to work while also allowing for their voices to carry down the hall. 

Jack had brought his friends over for a pool day and he’d requested that the two of you leave them alone, that they could fend for themselves. But as much as he’d pleaded, you were still unable to stop yourself.

You’d made them snacks, prepared a homemade ice tea, would check in every so often to make sure they were doing okay. And every time, without fail, his friends would pretend to be utter gentlemen, thanking you profusely until you left them alone once more and they turned from the kids their parents through they were into the horny teenagers they really were. 

It became clear to Aaron immediately why Jack didn’t want you around. It had nothing to do with his independence but rather the fact that his friends clearly didn’t know how to act around his mom. They’d made every inappropriate comment a teenage boy could come up with, and every time Jack would groan or roll his eyes or politely ask them to chill. But every time you showed your face the comments would start up again. 

It was after lunch when shit hit the fan. You’d ordered a big family meal style delivery, had set up the large containers in the kitchen, with the boys’ help which they were eager to give, and had made a plate for yourself and Aaron. They thought you couldn’t hear them in the kitchen, thought they were being so slick, but they should’ve known better than to not wait for you to exit the room. 

“I still don’t know how your dad bagged her,” Eric started, clearly teasing. “She’s just so—”

“So out of his league,” Dylan finished and the two of them snickered together. 

“If I had a step mom like that…” Nick sighed and the other two chuckled, no words needed for the four of them to know what he wanted to say. Jack couldn’t help but cringe, the mere thought of his stupid friends thinking about you this way appalling. 

“You boys need anything else?” you said loudly from the kitchen, a cue for them to stop talking as you pushed the door open with your hip. 

“We’re okay, thanks mom,” Jack’s voice was chipper like it always was with you, always soft and kind. His friends’ immediately perked up at your requests, their eyes sparkling with what you could only imagine were requests that you definitely didn’t want to know about. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Hotchner,” they practically sang in unison, their teasing only getting more pronounced as you walked down the hall, desperately trying not to give them anything else to talk about, but apparently that was completely useless.

“Check out her ass—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude,” you heard Jack groan, his patience finally running thin. His friends stilled in an instant, your instinct to fix it slowly creeping up from your heart to your brain. But Aaron was quick, his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move. “How would you like it if I talked about your mom like that?”

Silence. 

“That’s what I thought,” he stated, confident. “So can you please just stop it?”

His words were followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs in agreement, ashamed apologies and admissions of guilt. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, Aaron quickly pulling you into his office so the two of you could erupt in a fit of giggles. It was cute, almost too adorable that the boy you’d met so long ago was now defending your honor to his friends, was standing up for his mom, for his dad, for his family. 

okay i'm trying to get through some of the requests. i apologize for not being as active, you know how fanfiction authors' lives go off the rails sometimes.

i'm going to try and post a few of these before my "taking some time off" announcement. i've got a big week coming up but know i am trying.

tag list: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #jack hotchner being a cutie #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au #show your fangs writes #moments on ao3 #show your fangs asks #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner

[golden1u5t]

relaxation comes in different forms | a.h x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: no

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: everyone had their own way of relaxing after a hard case but you had aaron’s way was much better than anyone else’s.

everyone had their own way of relaxing after a long day, emily liked to sipped her wine and chill with sergio, derek liked to workout or talk to pretty women, jj had her children and husband, rossi liked to cook meals big enough to last him two weeks, spencer liked to read, and penelope had her online prince. everyone found relaxation in different places.

on the other hand, you and aaron found relaxation within each other. a relationship that was hidden from the prying eyes of your colleagues and friends, a relationship that was only for you and him to experience. some people might say that all the sneaking around would get tiring eventually but not for you and aaron, you felt like it kept your relationship interesting— exciting even.

all the stolen glances from across the room or the gentle touches you sneak when no one else is looking. if anything, sneaking around was your favorite part of your relationship. okay maybe that’s exaggerating a bit, you liked sneaking around because it meant you had something to yourself for once but in all honesty, your favorite part of your relationship was the sex.

it’s your favorite part because each time you did it, it was different. there was the rough sex, the quickies in his office, you name it, but the best for you was the slow, lazy sex that mainly happened early in the morning or late at night when you’re both too tired to do all that moving around.

for example.

the day had been terrible and long, which is how you found yourself in aaron’s lap with his cock buried deep in your cunt, your arms and legs wrapped around his body while his arms were wrapped around yours to keep you close to him. aaron had his legs tucked underneath him so he could thrust up into you from below. really if you were to have a blanket pulled over you no one would suspect what you were doing, it would just seem like you were just holding each other after a long day. the room had been pretty quiet since you both walked in and you tried to keep that way since there was a little boy right down the hall and waking him this late would be a nightmare.

with your head being tucked in the crook of his neck, your moans were fairly muffled. you slid your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head and lightly tugged as his hands slid down your back to your ass. a low groan left his parted lips when you started to tug at his hair and drag your lips alongside the pulsing vein in his neck. that was always something that aaron liked more than he admits–he’s more sensitive there than he lets on–and you anytime you got the chance you’d ghost your lips over his pulse point or the sensitive spot right under his ear.

somehow he managed to shift his weight and get more leverage to fuck you better. his thrust weren’t exactly fast, given the position you were in, but they were powerful enough to have your walls start to clamp down on his cock so tight that you were borderline pushing him out.

your legs slightly quivered around his waist as you started to grind down into his thrust, your hand fell from his head to dig into the skin on his back. the feeling of your nails breaking his skin had his head tipping back and a soft hiss to escape him. you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to hold in your moan, as you started to cum.

aaron could feel his stomach start to tighten at the feeling of your cunt practically pushing him out. he used his grip on you to lift you off of his cock for a moment, you let out a soft whine and raised your head to look at him.

“why’d you stop? i can’t take more, please.”

“fuck- i know you can, just- just give me a second, baby.” he leaned forward and rested his head on your shoulder. aaron took a deep breath so that he didn’t cum so soon, he wanted to make you cum at least once more before he let himself fall apart but he knew that if he stayed in you any longer he wouldn’t have made it.

he really only took a few second before he was flipping you around so you were on your back and sliding back into you. aaron pushed your legs up so far your knees were nearly touching your chest. before you met him you would’ve never thought you could bend in such ways but every day he manages to help you discover something new about yourself.

with the way he had your legs spread open for him, he had the best view of his cock driving in and out of you. being inside of you was the best feeling in the world for aaron and he’s sure that if he could he would spend every waking moment inside you.

you could tell he was trying to hold back his orgasm for you—you could feel his cock twitching—and you hated that. the second aaron tore his eyes from your cunt to look at you, you were opening your mouth to speak.

“please cum in me, aaron. i wanna feel it, please?” your voice was light but trembling with need, you reached out and placed your hand on his forearm. aaron’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before he looked back down at your cunt greedily sucking him in.

he let out a guttural groan and let your legs fall back down on the bed as he leaned over your body, pressing your chest together and changing his pace to one that had the room being filled with the sound of your skin hitting. aaron moved his arm to rest above your head as he began to kiss down your neck and leave gentle reminders of this night across your heated skin.

a few moments later, aaron’s hips stilled and he pressed himself as deep as he could go as he started to cum. you wrapped your arms and legs around him and held him as tight against you as your could. you could feel his heart racing against your chest and you were sure he could probably feel yours going just as fast.

even though he didn’t get to make you cum again before he did, hearing you beg for him to cum in you was more than enough for him.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut

[confused-pyramid]

While I breathe, I hope

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...

word count: 10.1k (omg)

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, slow burn, age gap, canon!typical violence, mentions of death, drinking, angst, so much yearning, hotch is a dilf

a/n: this covers events from the beginning of season five through the end of season seven, and includes mentions to specific episodes and cases

You can't go inside. The whole team is in Hotch's hospital room, looking at his motionless body, and your feet just won't move.

It would be one thing if he was awake and talking, but the idea of seeing him just lying there, hooked up to countless tubes and a heart monitor, makes you want to throw up.

You weren't the one who went to his empty apartment. You didn't see the bloodstained carpet or the bullet hole in his drywall. If you had, you definitely wouldn't be as outwardly calm as the team thinks you are right now.

When you got the call from Emily that his things were still in his apartment, his car still outside, you thought the worst. You’re ashamed that your mind went there immediately, but it's almost like your brain was trying to prepare you, just in case.

Your back is pressed against the wall next to his room when Derek finally emerges, an impassive expression on his face.

"How is he?" you ask, your voice reverberating around your skull like an echo chamber. "Will he be okay?"

Derek looks at you for a long moment, and you can tell he's profiling you, but you don't have the energy to gripe at him today. "Yeah, he'll be okay. We briefed him on the situation. You should go in. He's awake."

He's awake. That means he's okay.

The rest of the team files out a moment later, and JJ squeezes your arm as you finally take a step into the linoleum room.

He looks better than you would have expected, considering he's been stabbed nine times.

Fuck, was it really that many?

"Hi," you croak, your voice breaking embarrassingly as you flash him a tight smile. "You look terrible."

Hotch lets out a small laugh before wincing slightly. "You wouldn't look any better after being stabbed a dozen times."

"Look who's exaggerating now. I heard it was only nine."

Only nine. You can hardly get the word out.

"You missed Haley and Jack," he says simply, but you can tell what he's really trying to say.

Where were you when I woke up?

You swallow, knowing that the truth might be more than you can bear to disclose...because he's your boss. "I had to wrap up some things with a case."

Hotch nods slowly, but he doesn't press you further. You both know you're lying, but this isn't the time for torrid confessions. His face returns to its resting stoic expression and for a moment, he looks just like he did when you saw him for the first time.

"This lecture was supposed to start 20 minutes ago," you complain, checking your watch again. "You'll forgive me if I find it hard to believe that an agent on the Behavioral Analysis Unit has better things to do than guest lecture at Quantico."

Your friend rolls her eyes before turning to you, an exasperated expression on her face. "I actually heard they're being called onto some pretty big cases these days. Did you hear about that train that got taken hostage last month? That was theirs."

You scoff, already too haughty for your own good. Getting the highest test scores in your class has filled your head with hot air. "I'll believe it when I see it."

When Aaron Hotchner eventually walked up to the podium in front of the large lecture hall, everyone was either on their phone or talking to their peers.

He taps the microphone once and leans forward, his tall stature making him tower over the stand. "Good afternoon."

Whether it was the timbre of his voice or his self-assured nature, you couldn't be sure. But within a few moments, the entire auditorium was silent.

He starts speaking again, and his voice is the only sound filling the room. "Today I'll be discussing some the recent cases my unit has worked on, and how profiling helped us solve all of them..."

Your first thought as he begins his lecture is, 'He's handsome.' The next is a bit more professional: 'I want to have that kind of effect on a room.'

You graduate from the Academy a month later, and within the week, your application to be assigned to the BAU is on his desk.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask, suddenly eager to get out of this sterile, fluorescent-lit room. "Coffee? Jello? Tequila?"

He laughs again, but this time he manages to move less, so as not to shift his bandages. "Just water would be great."

You nod and dip your head down before leaving the room, the tension leaving your shoulders when you walk into the hall.

"He seems good," you tell the team when you find them around the corner by the nurse's station. "Really good."

"Yeah, kid," Rossi smiles, patting your shoulder. "He's a tough one."

You fill a paper cup with water from the fountain and are about to take it back to Hotch, when Emily catches your arm, taking the cup from you.

"I got it," she assures you, before shooting a nearly imperceptible glance at JJ that you wouldn't have noticed before joining the unit.

Rossi, Morgan, and Reid start walking back to the waiting area, and you move to follow them, but JJ catches your arm, holding you back firmly.

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes serious, but not unkind. "Come with me."

"Look," you say as JJ leads you to the opposite side of the waiting room. "I know I'm the youngest, but I really don't need a babysitter."

She shakes her head, motioning for you to sit down next to her. You sigh, sinking down onto the vinyl covered cushion, even though every muscle in your body wants to avoid what is coming.

"We all know you and Hotch are close," she says softly, her tone diplomatic. "We just want you to know that you're not alone, and that we're all here for you."

Close. You're not sure if that’s an overstatement or an understatement. He has definitely opened up to you a lot more since you joined the team, but you don't know if you can classify your relationship as anything more than professional.

A small voice in the back of your mind scoffs. You can't even convince yourself.

***

Aaron can't help but feel slightly disappointed when Emily enters his room with his water, instead of you.

"Surprised to see me?" she asks conspiratorially, and he isn't sure what he's supposed to be hiding.

"No," he frowns, trying in vain to sit up a bit straighter, "I thought- well, never mind now. Thank you for bringing the water."

"We're all really glad you're okay," she tells him, leaving a soft pat on his covers. "We'll find this son of a bitch before he can hurt anyone else."

He appreciates her sentiment, but the fear he feels for Haley and Jack - his family - still burrows deep in his bones.

Emily doesn't stay long, and soon the familiar silence envelopes him once again. Ever since Haley left him, his apartment hasn't felt like home. Not really.

He started staying at work later and later, coming home only to shower and get a few hours of sleep. It certainly wasn't healthy, but after getting stabbed in the place he was supposed to feel the safest, it is all he can do to keep going.

The silences had felt safe at first, but then you started coming over, dropping by randomly when you knew he would be home, and he finally began to understand what being safe was really supposed to feel like.

You are so young, barely 27, but you are one of the best agents he has hired straight from Quantico. When your application arrived on his desk, after a thorough review from Strauss and the director, he had been certain that you wouldn't be a good fit for the BAU. But then he met you.

"You were the top of your class," he observes, his eyes trained on your file that he has laid open on his desk. 

He hasn't looked up since you sat down, but he has clocked everything about you. The way your hair is pulled back from your face, as if to present yourself fully and openly. The firm set of your shoulders as you sit forward in the chair. Even the small, loose thread on your blazer that you must have missed when you were likely inspecting your clothes that morning.

You nod, clearly proud of your academic accomplishments. Aaron is the last person who would fault someone for taking pride in their achievements, but he also can't shake the feeling that you may just be another one of the 'rich girls' he knew in law school. The trust fund kids and Senators' daughters who knew just how smart they were...and knew exactly how to use it to their advantage.

"Your academic record is quite impressive, and you scored well in physical fitness," he continues, quickly realizing that he doesn't exactly have any concrete grounds on which to reject you.

"Thank you," you smile, your hands folded in your lap. "I would love to work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. One of my favorite classes at the Academy was in behavioral science, and I know how important the work you all do here is. I also got a chance to talk to some of the team before this interview, since I got here a bit early..." You let out a small laugh, and he can tell that it's mostly for your benefit, to lighten the tension. "...and everyone seems really nice. Agent Morgan is clearly a natural leader, especially with how he carries himself in front of the team, and Doctor Reid gave me some statistics about the rate of Academy grads who get into various fields across the agency."

You trail off as your rambling winds to a close, and suddenly Aaron isn't sure what to make of you anymore.

"Doctor Reid is a genius," Hotch agrees, before cracking the faintest smile, "but he can take some getting used to."

You shake your head, possibly misinterpreting his comment, but trying to clear the air nonetheless. "Not at all! It was incredible speaking to him. I think I learned more just this morning than I have since I graduated."

A slight flush colors the top of your chest as you gush about your experiences and Aaron finds that your curiosity and keen senses (and warmth) are the exact characteristics that will serve you well here. He is pleased that you got along with the team, and that's when he realizes there is no point in trying to find a reason to reject you.

You're already in.

***

It still hurts when he breathes in too quickly, but after three weeks of recovering in his empty apartment, Aaron is ready to return to work.

You've been keeping him up to date with the cases that the team has been working on, but it's not the same as being in the thick of it. After years of constant motion and always being on his toes, this last month of medical leave has made him feel like he's decomposing.

He only gets up to eat, shower, or, you know, and he misses being around people every day. He misses being around you.

As if his thoughts conjured you into being, a knock sounds at his door, and he gets up with a grunt when he hears your voice announcing your presence.

It takes him ages to get to the door, but once he gets it open, he sees you standing in front of him with a plastic bag in one hand and a bottle in the other. He's surprised to see you, but he's also very very pleased.

"I brought takeout," you smile, your eyes glinting in the dim light of the hallway, "and sparkling cider."

His eyebrows raise at the latter, and you roll your eyes dramatically, following him inside. "Considering all the medications you're probably hopped up on right now, I made the tactical choice not to bring alcohol over here."

He chuckles, watching as you remove containers of steaming Thai food from the bag. "A sound decision."

"How are you feeling?" you ask once you're both settled on the couch, a plate of uneaten noodles resting on your lap. "Do you think you'll be ready to come back soon?"

"It's not up to me," he sighs, his eyes following the movement of your fork across your plate. Why aren't you eating?

"Well, you can tell those doctors at St. Sebastian's that I said you look great."

His heart rate jumps before the meaning of your words sinks in. But the warm shade of mauve that flushes across your chest says otherwise.

"I just mean that you look fine," you correct, clearing your throat. "Healthy."

He nods, not wanting to embarrass you, but a fire courses through his veins as he watches the telltale signs of attraction wash over you. Darkening of the eyes, flushing of the skin, eye contact.

Aaron would be lying if he said that he never noticed the way your eyes lingered on him across the conference room. He had chalked it up to a schoolgirl crush, but could a temporary infatuation really explain the relationship that had developed between the two of you?

You were the first person he looked for when he walked into work in the mornings, the first opinion he sought out when testing a new theory. How much longer could he pretend that what he felt for you was strictly professional?

"How are Haley and Jack doing?" you ask, jerking him from his thoughts.

"About as well as you can imagine," he says sincerely, his expression falling as he thinks about how long it has been since he has seen his son. "It's tough being under constant watch."

Ever since Foyet practically called them out by name, they've been assigned a protection detail and kept away from anything to do with the case...which includes him.

"We'll find him, Aaron," you whisper, your eyes glowing with genuine earnestness. "We have to."

He nods, and only then do you finally take a bite of your food.

"I'm sorry, I just don't like red wine," you laugh, taking a sip from your chilled glass of white. "I'd much rather just have a beer."

Rossi scoffs, his "Kiss the Cook" apron lending him very little authority. "That's because you've never had real, good wine. Your $7 grocery store wines don't count either, kid."

Leaning your forearms on the island counter in the center of Rossi's kitchen, you shoot Hotch a look that says 'help me out here', but he just shakes his head, smiling at you from over the rim of his glass.

"Okay," Emily nods, taking a seat next to you. "I'll bite. Let's see this fancy red wine you've been raving about."

"Not yet," Rossi says, waving his hand at you both as he carefully stirs marinara sauce into his handmade pappardelle. "Red wine cannot be truly enjoyed unless it is taken with authentic Italiano."

It takes everything in you not to snort, but you bite your tongue and take another sip of your white wine.

"I hope you're prepared to finish what you started here," a deep voice rumbles from behind you.

Hotch comes up next to you, his hip resting against the counter as he turns to face you. "David won't give up until he gets you to concede."

"I can handle myself," you smirk, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, when have you ever known me to turn away from a challenge."

He's about to say something witty, but then the edge of your lips curves up and you wink at him, and suddenly every thought he has ever had has mysteriously disappeared.

You can't stop laughing, even though it really isn't that funny. "Kevin asked you for advice on how to ask Penelope out on a date?"

Aaron nods, his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh. "He was very earnest, but I didn't think his prospective relationship with our tech analyst was more pertinent than finding a missing girl."

"He asked you in the middle of a case?!" you squeak, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you shake with laughter.

He lets himself go a bit and a bright grin spreads across his face. Your laugh is like music and he finds that his wounds don't hurt as much anymore.

The drinks don't have any alcohol in them, but he still feels lighter than he has in months, and he feels himself wishing that you could be here with him all the time.

"Yup," he confirms, shaking his head. "Reid was with me as well, and I thought his jaw would fall off with how far open his mouth was."

"Oh my goodness," you gasp, trying to control the giggles bubbling up inside of you. "Speaking of Reid...he really needs a haircut."

This finally breaks him and Hotch lets out a loud hoot of laughter. You almost forget to worry about whether his scar tissue is hurting him, because he looks so happy for the first time in what feels like forever.

Your heart warms in your chest and as you lean back on his new couch, you realize that you would come over to his place with takeout and cider every night until the end of time if it meant he would keep smiling at you like that.

***

Your ears are still ringing even in the eerie silence. Three gunshots and a choked sob and then nothing.

Your SUV feels like it's barely moving, even though the speedometer is hovering around 90, but somehow when you skid to a stop in front of the Hotchner family home, there's only one other SUV parked out front.

You throw yourself out of the car, running as fast as you can into the house, your gun at the ready in front of you. It takes a long time - too long - to make it up the stairs, but the moment you hear the forlorn mix of thuds and sobs, you're running again.

Please let him be okay. Please let them all be okay.

You burst into the room as Hotch pounds into Foyet, his bloody face practically unrecognizable as he gets shredded to a pulp.

"Aaron," you gasp, sinking to your knees and throwing your arms around him from behind. "He's dead. You have to stop."

It takes a few more moments, but eventually his hands stop throwing punches. His knuckles are covered in blood and his hands shake violently as he leans into you, his body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs.

Tears prick your eyes as you hold him tightly, working off the futile hope that if you squeeze hard enough, all of the pain and horror will go away.

Loud footsteps reverberate around the house and you relax when you hear Emily and Derek's voices behind you. They fall silent when they see the two of you, but you're unable to focus on anything other than keeping the man in front of you in one piece for as long as possible.

"Wait," you mutter suddenly, the team's arrival bringing you back to reality. "Jack?"

Aaron's body stiffens against yours and he practically springs off the ground, pushing through all the officers and agents that have entered the house since you arrived. You race after him, following as he runs into his home office and opens a small compartment under his window seat.

When Jack's small face peers back at you, the entire house lets out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron whispers, pulling Jack into a lumbering hug.

Jack looks at all of us over his shoulder, his eyes full of a youthful innocence that tugs at your heartstrings. "I worked the case, Dad, just like you said."

"Yes," Hotch nods, the tension in his body slowly seeping away, "you did a great job, buddy."

***

The funeral is somber and beautiful, even before the snow starts falling. JJ and Will nod at you from across the lawn as you make your way along the sidewalk, a few steps behind Derek, Emily, Reid, and Rossi.

You feel a light pat on your hand and you look down to see Jack looking back at you. You press your lips into a thin smile and take his hand, trying to warm up his chilly fingers with your glove.

"Let's find your Aunt Jess," you tell him as you wade between the crowd, all dressed in black.

When Jack is safely tucked under his aunt's arms, you trudge back over to where the team is all standing together. Rossi holds his arm out and you latch onto him with a grateful nod.

"Will this ever end?" you whisper, unable to keep the pain festering inside of you for a moment longer. "The pain can't go on forever, can it?"

He brings his other hand up and lays it on top of yours, holding you to him for a small, comforting moment. 

"It will feel like forever," he sighs, his usually reassuring voice suddenly low and anguished, "but it won't be...and that's the important thing." 

Haley's casket is carried up the snow-blanketed hill and when the proceedings begin, you watch as Aaron clasps his hands together, his head permanently dipped down.

You can feel his sadness from here, and you would give anything to be able to take it away, but this isn't the time. This is the time for remembrance and appreciation of the life Haley lived. The loyal friend, the loving wife, the devoted mother.

Jessica squeezes your hand as she passes by you, and when she makes her way up to the front, Aaron begins his eulogy.

"Haley was my best friend since we were in high school..."

***

Even when it seems like nothing will ever be the same, things eventually manage to return to normal. Jessica has been helping out with Jack when Hotch is at work, but you can see the strain being a single father is putting on him.

When the team is called to a small fishing town in rural Alaska, you can feel the stress emanating off of him from being so far from Jack for so long, but he doesn't let it get in the way of the work. He never does.

"I've got four of the upstairs rooms available," Rhodes, the police chief, explains when you all arrive at the singular lodge in town.

Uh, four?

"Uh, four?" Derek asks, echoing your thoughts.

Rhodes sighs, clearly starting to regret calling us at all. "Your team is double the size of my department."

When we don't say anything, he shakes his head and bids us goodbye. "I'll see you in the morning."

When he leaves, Hotch turns to us. "Looks like we'll have to double up."

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Derek points, shaking his head.

You stifle a laugh when Garcia immediately latches onto Derek, piping up with a "Dibs!"

By the time night falls, you end up bunking with Garcia, which works just fine for you, except for the fact that you can't sleep.

Penelope has been out like a light since everyone called it a night an hour ago, but you've been staring at the ceiling, unable to catch a wink.

A half hour later, you finally give up, grabbing your files and shutting the door quietly behind you. You tiptoe down the stairs, hoping that the small seating area in the lobby will be empty, but when it comes into view, you spot someone sitting in front of the crackling fireplace.

"I want to dance!" JJ announces, clapping her hands together as she bounces on her toes. "I love this song."

"You go right on ahead, darlin'," Will says, pressing a kiss to her temple.

JJ shoots him a knowing look that feels so familiar it makes your chest hurt. You would give anything to have that sweet domesticity with someone you loved.

"If you won't join me, then my girls will," she fires back, reaching out to grab at your hands.

Emily and Penelope start to shake their heads, but JJ looks so excited that you can't help but mirror her enthusiasm.

"Okay," you nod, taking her hand. "I'm in."

She grins back at you and shoots Will and the guys a proud look, before pulling you into the crowd with her. It's clear that she's had a couple more drinks than she should have, but as long as she's having fun, who were you to stop her?

With the bustling throng of bodies filling the bar, you can hardly believe that Rossi's favorite joint is about to close for good.

The bar is pumping a bright Abba song through the rickety speakers and you sway your hips to the melodic beat as JJ gyrates in front of you. Your eyes fall closed as you lift your hands above your head, trying to find the rhythm over the loud buzz of conversation around you.

Your eyes snap open when JJ squeals again, signaling the arrival of Derek and Penelope to the dance floor, and you grin at them as he holds her hands and twirls her around deftly.

You turn around, scanning the crowd for a familiar face - well, one in particular - when you land on Rossi, who smiles at you. You grin brightly, waving at him, but he heads to the bar to get another drink, shrewdly managing to avoid your call for him to come join you all.

Your line of sight wanders again, this time landing on the person you were looking for. Aaron doesn't smile back immediately, his gaze slightly hazy, but then he lifts his glass in a pseudo-salute, his eyes never leaving yours.

You know this isn't his usual scene, so you don't try to get him to join you on the dance floor, but when he reaches up to unbutton his collar, you feel a breathlessness you haven't experienced since your first kiss.

The rest of the bar fades away and the loud voices around you quiet to a murmur. Hands grab at your shoulders, but your body feels far away as your eyes stay locked on his, diving deeper and deeper, trying to see every inch of him.

You love him, you know you do. You can try to ignore it for as long as you want, but that won't change the truth. 

You're in love with him.

You snap back to reality when Penelope yells your name, and you shake your head, trying to clear the feelings that are rising inside of you.

Your brain feels warm and fuzzy as you return to your friends, and you're not sure if you can blame it on the alcohol anymore.

"Couldn't sleep?" you ask rhetorically as you take a seat on the well worn couch, next to Hotch. He's still in his clothes from earlier, but his sleeves are pushed back and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck.

He looks hauntingly beautiful with the firelight gleaming against his skin. You want to lean in and press your lips against his —

He shakes his head. "You too?"

You don't respond, instead reaching forward to lay your case file on the wooden coffee table.

"There's something off about this place," you eventually say, trying to describe what you've been feeling since you arrived. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."

He nods, setting down the files he was working on. "I think I understand what you mean. The kills have been so horrific, I'm shocked that the town hasn't already imploded just from trying to find the killer on their own."

"That's not- I don't mean..." you struggle to find the right words. "I'm scared for the team. I feel like we're all so strung out that one bad case, one bad outcome, could break us."

You don't know where this is coming from, and you can tell he doesn't know what to make of it either, but you're glad it's out there. Anything is better than the pit you feel in your stomach every time he - any of them - gets too close to a place they can never come back from.

Before he can react, you lean your cheek on his shoulder, a sigh of relief leaving your body as his fire-warmed skin burns into you through the thin fabric of his button-down.

This is the closest he has ever been to you, and the warmth of your smooth skin against his makes his breath catch in his throat.

He whispers your name and it comes out more like a gasp than a warning.

"Please," you breathe, turning your face so that you are looking at the fire. "Please, just...can we just sit here for a moment."

He knows what this will mean for your relationship going forward, knows that nothing can be the same if he lets this continue, but he can't bring himself to move.

The words flash in his mind before he can shut them off, and he closes his eyes, savoring them for as long as he can before reality is sure to set in.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Eventually, the fire will die out and the morning light will filter through the windows, and the world will come rushing back. But for now, it's just you two. So instead of doing what he would've done not six months ago...instead of standing up and telling you to go to bed, he stays still. Instead of stopping this at the root, before it can blossom into something he can't control, he sits there, with you at his side, for more than just a moment.

***

When Aaron pulls you aside in the hospital to explain the plan to fake Emily's death, you can barely breathe.

"You mentioned in your department file that you have contacts in Paris," Hotch is saying as you struggle to quiet the buzzing noise in your skull, "and we need them to help her lay low for a while as we figure out the Ian Doyle situation."

You remember nodding and giving him the information he needs, but everything else that happens that night is a blur. You can't remember who broke the news that Emily was gone, or where you went when you couldn't stand to be in that hospital anymore, or even how you got home.

All you know is that it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to tell the team the truth. Their gaunt faces stare back at you every morning for weeks, and somehow, at the same time, you have all the power in the world to help them, but also none at all.

You swear you can hear the crack of your heart when Spencer comes to your apartment every other night, tears spilling onto his cheeks, and at first, Aaron is the only person you can be yourself around.

But then he leaves too, and that's when the ground truly starts to cave in around you.

***

"Hey," you say softly, pressing the satellite phone to your ear. "How are you?"

Derek had handed you the phone after debriefing Hotch on the Doyle investigation, and now he was downstairs with rest of the team.

"It's getting harder to find leads over here, but we're still working," Aaron tells you, a quiet static coloring his voice. "How are...how is Jack?"

You press your lips together, trying to hold in the anger that has been bubbling up inside of you for months. "He's really good. Jessica is great with him."

Since Aaron left for his assignment in Pakistan, you have been spending more and more time with Jack. He's a sweet kid, and since you can't be there for any of your work family, the absolute least you can do is be there for a boy who doesn't have his mother or his father right now.

"Will you be home soon?" Your voice sounds different to your own ears. Tinny. Distant.

"I don't know," he says truthfully, his voice giving away nothing.

There's a pause on his end of the line and when he starts speaking again, his voice is clearer than before. "I know how hard all of this has been on you...I'm sorry."

Anger flares in your veins and you bite your lip as you hear quiet laughter filter up from the bullpen. "Hard? Yeah, it's been really damn hard to come in to work every day and lie to the people I care about most in this world."

You can hear the slight catch in his breath, but it only spurs you on. "I'm sure it's much easier to hide from the team when you're all the way across the freaking world."

He says your name, his tone not so much warning as it is fervent. Your finger moves to the 'off' button and you don't wait for his response before you mutter a quick "I have to go" and press down.

When you go back to your quiet apartment that night, the solitude feels almost overwhelming. You set your bag on your coffee table and pull your shoes off on the way to the master bathroom, where you strip off your clothes in one go.

Your shower is set so hot that steam fills the bathroom within minutes of you stepping inside. The scalding water burns away the pain and loneliness of the day, and for a few moments, you can just stand there and not think.

When you close your eyes, you can almost imagine that he's still here. That the searing rivulets that glide down your body are his fingers and that the hands that are holding you and comforting you with their warmth aren't just falling water.

It takes you a few minutes to realize that the tracks running down your face aren't coming from the cascade above you. The sobs you've learned to hold in and keep quiet start gurgling in your chest, and before you can tamp them down, they burst out in full force.

Your knees give out and you crumble to the floor of your shower. The salt of your tears mixes with the water around you and for the first time ever, you hate him almost as much as you love him.

***

Everyone looks just as confused as you do when they are called into the office extra early for seemingly no reason. You all meet in the conference room, trying to figure out what kind of case could be so secretive that none of you were briefed, when a figure appears in the doorway.

"Welcome back," Derek mutters from across the room, but you can't take your eyes off of Aaron (and his beard?).

"You're back," you exhale, equal amounts of joy and fury flooding your system.

"Everyone," he nods, motioning to you all, "take a seat."

Everyone sits down obediently, and then he dives into the speech that you have both dreaded and looked forward to for months.

"Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team."

The lying is finally over.

"As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

They look so confused. God, why can't he get to the point.

"But the doctors were able to stabilize her."

There it is. She's okay. Emily is alive, and she's okay.

"Her identity was strictly need-to-know."

They look so betrayed. You've been lying to them for months, of course they feel betrayed.

"She's alive?" Penelope asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer gapes. "...But we buried her."

Aaron closes his eyes for a moment, and you can see the emotions swirling inside of his head. Pain, anger, self-hatred.

"If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me."

"Who else knew?" Derek yells, his eyes brimming with hurt.

Aaron's eyes flash to you for barely a moment, but it's enough. They all turn to you, disbelief coloring their features.

"This whole time?" Reid mutters, his eyes not fully meeting yours. "You knew this whole time?"

You are spared from answering when Emily steps into the doorway, a shawl thrown over her shoulders. You know you don't deserve the reunion as much as they all do, but seeing her is still a shock.

Even though you were privy to the details of her re-assignment, you haven't seen her since that day at the hospital either. Penelope and Spencer rush forward, pulling her into desperate hugs that burn your throat with tears.

Morgan is standing still, his hands motionless on the back of one of the conference room chairs.

"Derek," you plead, trying to catch his eye. "I'm so sorr-"

He doesn't let you finish, his hand coming up in an evasive gesture. "Save it."

A sob catches in your throat and you walk out of the room.

***

Aaron's apartment building looks exactly the same as it did seven months ago, when you came to say goodbye before he left for Pakistan.

You sit in your car for what feels like hours, but when you finally step out onto the street, it's only been ten minutes.

After Hotch broke the news to the team, you went home in a haze, unsure of how you were even able to drive. Hours of sitting by yourself in the dark didn't do anything to change your mental state, and you were already in the car when you realized what was eating at you.

Now you are in front of his door and you can hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. When the door opens, you push past him, swiveling your head as you look around the apartment.

"Is Jack here?" you ask, searching for his telltale head of blonde hair.

Hotch shakes his head, clearly confused. "He's with Jess until tomorrow."

You nod, trying to formulate what you want to say in your head. There are so many words swirling around your brain, but nothing feels just right.

"What's going on?" he asks, taking a step towards you. "Are you doing okay?"

That's what breaks you.

"Am I doing okay?" you cry, your hands coming up to rake your hair back. "Emily's finally back, and I can't even enjoy it, because the whole team hates me."

"I'm sorry," he says, his brow furrowing. He takes another step toward you. "They're going to hate me too, if that makes you feel any better."

You scoff, turning away from him as you pace across his living room. "They'll never hate you as much as they hate me, because you weren't here. You weren't the one lying to their faces everyday for seven months. I was!"

He deflates, and suddenly he looks smaller than you've ever seen him before. "I'm so sorry for putting you in that position. I can't imagine how painful it would have been to lie to the team for so long."

He's saying all the right things and that only makes you angrier.

"You don't get it," you grit out, your fingers pressing into the back of your neck. "They had each other. All those months they were grieving, at least they were together. For a second, I had you, but then you left me and I was all alone."

Your voice breaks on the last word and he reaches forward as you fall into his arms, sobs wracking your body. "I missed you. When you left, I hated you, but I still missed you every day you were gone."

Your face burrows into the crook of his neck as he holds you tightly in his arms, his strong body holding you up as your legs threaten to give out. He smells different, like pepper and smoke, and you resist the urge to breathe him in now that he's finally here.

When you pull back, you stay in the circle of his arms, relishing the way his hands feel resting against your lower back. It's almost comforting to know that your body still reacts to him the same way it did seven months ago.

He's so close to you that you can feel his breath on your nose. If you tilted your head back your lips would brush his, and it takes everything in you not to give in.

But then the familiar warning bells go off in your brain and you take a step back. You aren't completely in the dark. You know that he feels something for you that isn't strictly professional, but you also know that if you lost him the way he lost Haley, you wouldn't be able to handle it. At least not with the grace that he has.

Your expression falls and his eyes fill with pain. "I shouldn't have left. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

"That's the problem," you sigh, resisting the disturbing urge to laugh at how deep inside of you he has burrowed himself. "I forgave you the moment you walked through the door."

***

Emily's return softens the blow of what you and Aaron had done, so by the time Ian Doyle is killed and the case is finished, the whole team is mostly working together cohesively again.

Spencer and Derek didn't speak more than a few words to you for weeks afterward, but when Emily made it clear that it was her life that hung in the balance, they eventually came around.

With the Senate hearings and Congressional oversight starting to take a backseat, the team was finally getting a chance to loosen up, and after investigating a serial killer in Atlanta, you all decided to make a day out of cheering on Aaron at the FBI triathlon.

Jack holds your hand as you lead him through the small crowd that has gathered by the finish line. The rest of the team is already there, leaning against the barricade, and Derek props Jack up on his shoulders when he gets to the front. He waves his big sign in the air and you grin as he cheers loudly, even though nobody has made it to the finish line yet.

"Do you see him, Uncle Dave?" Jack asks as he starts to get bored.

Rossi peers out across the trail. "Yeah, buddy, I think I do!"

You all turn to see Aaron jogging across the grassy expanse, his running form impeccable (of course). Everyone starts cheering and when he sees you all, a smile crosses his face, his eyes glinting with joy and amusement.

"Running should be illegal," you complain as Aaron pads along a few feet ahead of you, his skin barely starting to glisten while yours is covered in sweat. "How far are we now? We've definitely done at least a half-marathon."

He snorts, checking his fitness tracker. "We're halfway through the second mile."

You groan, slowing to a stop and putting your hands on your knees. "I have no idea how I scored so well on my academy physical. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"How old does that make me?" he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

You shake your head, lifting up a finger as you ask for another minute. "If we're talking in terms of physical fitness, you may just be younger than me, Hotchner."

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly before patting your back and nodding. "Come on, let's keep going."

You groan again, this time more dramatically, but you start jogging alongside him, making a genuine effort to keep up. "Okay, so you can run. Well, need I remind you that a triathlon has three events...my money's on the swim taking you out."

His eyes twinkle like bright stars and you have to look away, pretending that the sun's in your eyes. "I think I can handle myself. Besides, I have a much better chance of completing the swim than the bike ride at this point."

"Well," you grin, speeding up a bit to run a few steps ahead, "you know what they say about riding a bicycle!"

"Thank you guys for coming," he says sincerely after hanging his medal around Jack's neck.

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it," Derek grins, smacking him on the back playfully. 

"How do you feel?" Rossi asks.

Aaron sighs, a small grin appearing on his face. "I'll survive."

Jack patters around the group and reaches forward to grab your hand again, and you don't miss the look in Aaron's eyes when you take it. 

The sweet domesticity you wanted. This is it.

Your chest burns with tears and you clear your throat, squeezing Jack's hand and helping him roll up his poster.

"Okay, drinks tonight," Rossi announces suddenly, clapping his hands together. "On me!"

That gives you all another reason to cheer, and you lead Jack to Hotch's car as JJ loops her arm through yours.

Penelope and Derek walk a few paces behind you, arms linked, and Emily, David, and Spencer are deep in conversation about something you probably wouldn't understand.

The team feels like a family again.

Happy tears sting your eyes and you blink them away, hoping no one noticed. But when you look up to find Aaron's car, he's already watching you, and you could have sworn his eyes were glinting too.

***

The whole team is crowded around one booth in the back of the fancy bar that Rossi selected for tonight's celebration. You are squished between Aaron and Penelope, and the conversation has gone from the average running speed of adult males (Reid's idea) to how many shots would you need before you'd be willing to go and dance in front of the whole team (Emily's). 

Your empty vodka tonic is sitting on the table in front of you, condensation dripping onto the dark wood as the ice melts.

"I'm going to get another drink," you announce, before pushing past Hotch and Rossi and slinking up to the bar.

"Can I get a cosmopolitan?" you ask the bartender, who nods at you before turning around to make your drink. 

You drum your fingers against the counter as you wait, but it doesn't take long before a tall, blonde man who looks to be about your age sidles up next to you.

"What are you having?" he asks, his eyebrows raised in a way that you're sure he thinks is seductive.

"I'm already set," you tell him, turning your body away slightly, "but thanks."

"I saw you with your group earlier," he continues as you flash your eyes at the bartender in a signal you hope conveys that you need him to hurry up. "Unless you're with the nerdy one, I'm not sure what the problem is."

"The problem," you explain, your jaw clenching as your drink finally lands on the counter, "is that I'm not interested."

You grab your drink and immediately turn around, but thankfully Emily and JJ have come up to order new drinks too. Clearly outnumbered, the man shakes his head and leaves you alone.

Aaron hasn't taken his eyes off you since you got up from the booth. When a man approached you at the bar, he felt the first inkling of jealousy scrape through his bones, but your body language quickly made it clear that you weren't interested, and that you could handle yourself.

He probably should be a bit more careful with how much he watches you, especially when surrounded by a band of profilers, but sometimes, when the day comes to a close, and he's had a drink or two, his shields fall down and he allows himself a moment to just...pretend.

Pretend that what you feel for each other is something he can act on. Pretend that you are someone he can look for in a bar. Someone he can call his.  

He's lost in his thoughts when David mutters something from next to him.

"What was that?" he asks, turning his head to hear him better.

Dave repeats himself. "It's okay, you know."

Aaron frowns. "What are you talking about."

"What you feel for her...it's okay."

His brow furrows and a pained look crosses his face. They were bound to notice eventually, and he would have had to tell them at some point. If not now, when? "It doesn't feel okay all the time."

Dave sighs, his fingers running over the side of his whiskey glass. "When you're with her...does it make everything else hurt less?"

Aaron shoots him a look that's a mix between confusion and exasperation, but when he thinks about the question, all he can hear in his head is yes, yes, a resounding yes.

Dave must see it on his face, because he smiles and shrugs. "Then how can it be wrong?"

He turns to look at you again, but this time the lights in the bar feel brighter than before. The music sounds clearer and the smile on your face sets his whole chest ablaze.

When you return to the table, you finish your drink, but you don't go back for another. You've noticed Aaron looking at you here and there throughout the night, but you're not sure if it's just your imagination or if you're tipsier than you thought.

The team is laughing around you, and Aaron's thigh feels warm pressed against yours. You haven't been this happy in ages. 

***

After what has easily been the most taxing case of your life, the weekend comes to a close with an evening you have all been waiting for almost as long as JJ and Will have.

"You clean up well," you joke as Aaron walks into Rossi's backyard, where the rest of you are scattered around, talking to the wedding guests.

He's wearing a clean, black tux that fits him perfectly. 

"You think so?" he asks, the ghost of a smirk in his eyes. "You look beautiful."

You smile in response, letting him lead you to the back of the patio, where rows of folding chairs have been set up. He looks better, lighter, than you've seen him in a while. It suits him.

JJ and Will get married in an elegant ceremony that leaves no more than a few dry eyes in the audience, and when they take to the floor for their first dance, you sip your champagne from a table off to the side.

Aaron is watching Spencer do magic tricks in front of the children, and he's wearing one of his secret, dazzling smiles that he only brings out when he thinks no one is watching.

"This seat taken?"

You turn to see Emily's hand on the chair next to you, and you shake your head, smiling as she takes a seat.

"You look wonderful," you tell her, patting her hand on the table. "I'm so glad you're here. You were amazing this weekend. This wedding wouldn't be happening without you."

She laughs, taking a sip of champagne. "I'll be sure to tell Will you said that."

You chuckle, settling into a comfortable silence that is only really possible with people you know as well as you know this team. 

Emily adjusts her dress and you think she's going to get up and re-join the group, but then she takes you completely by surprise. "You should go for it."

You look at her, confused. "Huh?" 

Deep down, you know what she's referring to, but if you can play dumb for a few more moments, you won't miss out on the opportunity.

"You and Hotch. You should go for it."

You open your mouth to respond, but she gets up and leaves you to mull over her words.

When Rossi asks everyone to join the newly married couple on the dance floor, you assume that you'll just hang off to the side with Reid, but then you get your second surprise of the night.

"Care to dance?" 

Aaron holds his hand out, only mostly certain that you will accept. When you take his hand, he's as much relieved as he is pleased, and he leads you out into the center of the clearing.

Your hand finds his shoulder as his slips onto your waist, and you fall into an easy rhythm as you look up at him, a smile on your face. You look radiant under the twinkling fairy lights, and he has to tear his eyes away from you when you lean in closer to rest your chin on his shoulder.

His arms envelope you as your chests press together, your breaths going in and out in unison.

You peer over his shoulder, watching as Derek and Penelope laugh in the corner, and Emily tries to teach Spencer how not to step on her feet. 

"Jack looks happy," you whisper as your eyes land on the children playing off to the side. 

"He is," Aaron agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. After a pause, his head dips down and his cheek presses against your temple. "We are."

***

When the night comes to a close, you are looking for Emily, since she drove you to Rossi's house, but a pat on your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

"I can take you home," Aaron says, his eyes filled with an earnest look that has you nodding before you can even process the offer.

The car ride is nearly silent during the short trip back to your apartment, but when he pulls up in front of your building, you can't bring yourself to open the door.

You can feel a tension in the air, the same one that has been building for years, and for some reason, tonight, you're not scared of it anymore.

"Aaron..." you whisper, turning to look at him, but he cuts you off.

"I love you."

Your breath leaves your lungs and you open your mouth to say it back, but he keeps going.

"I'm not some young player anymore," he says, a breathy chuckle leaving his mouth as he speaks. "I think you know what I feel for you. I think you've known for some time."

You've forgotten how to speak. "I didn't know for sure."

"I know why you never brought it up," he whispers, his voice tight with emotion, "but even though she's gone, I know she wouldn't have wanted me to be alone forever."

None of the words floating around your brain seem good enough, and you can't think, so you just lean forward and kiss him.

His lips are softer than you imagined, and after a moment of indecision, he reaches up and threads his fingers through your hair, holding you against him. The kiss is sweet and it feels like the perfect start to something new and fresh, but then his tongue slips along the seam of your lips, and you gasp, heat shooting down to your core.

"Aaron," you gasp against his mouth, your hands gliding up his chest and over his shoulders. "Let's go inside."

He pulls back momentarily, and there's a small smudge on his lips from your lip gloss.

You throw open the car door and practically speed-walk to the elevators as he follows closely behind you. It takes years to get up to your apartment, but when you finally get the door open, you're on him again, your lips pressing against his and your hands tangled in his thick hair.

A groan rumbles in his throat when you tug slightly, and he grips your waist, moving you back and lifting you onto the couch. 

"You'll tell me if it's too much," he says frantically, his voice low and strained. "If you want me to stop and take it slower, you just have to say it."

You shake your head, pulling him down on top of you. "I've waited for this for years. I'm not going anywhere."

He smiles against your skin, peppering slow kisses down your jaw as your eyes fall closed and pleasure melts down your spine. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you tightly as though he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

Aaron's ministrations are slow and careful, and you quickly become impatient, your body squirming as you implicitly beg for more. You're practically vibrating under him when he lifts his knee and presses into you, his lips moving in unison with his body as he applies a glorious pressure that has you gasping into his mouth.

Where did he learn to do that?

Heat swells in your abdomen and you pull back, your eyes wild and your chest heaving.

"What is it?" he asks, his forehead furrowing. "Are you okay?" 

"I need more," you exhale, reaching down to grab at the hem of his shirt.

You yank open the buttons and slip it over his shoulders, reveling at how beautiful he looks on top of you. When his mouth returns to your chest, you keen against him, your legs pressing together as you try to ward off the pleasure rising inside of you.

Aaron reaches down and tugs the bottom of your dress up, yanking upward until it's over your head. Your hair cascades down, splayed out around your face like a halo, and he can't imagine that any angel would look prettier than you do right now.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and along your stomach.

The sensation is not enough, but the sheer anticipation of where he's heading has your whole body tingling. 

He takes his time, kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs and working his up around your core until he finally dives in. His hands takes your calves and lift them onto his shoulders as he licks a thick stripe up the center of your cunt.

You writhe against the smooth couch, your hands grabbing onto his hair for some semblance of support as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, his nose bumping against your clit with an infuriating rhythm. 

Aaron moves his tongue with the movements of your body as he painstakingly avoids the one place you are begging for him to go. Your hand tightens in his hair and he groans, creating satisfying vibrations that make you shudder.

Just when it seems like it may never be enough, he laves over you, sucking at your clit with a lewd, wet sound that makes you moan so loudly, you shock even yourself.

He hums with pride and your hips fly off the couch, trying to get closer and closer as you near the precipice of all the pleasure that's been building up. He sucks you into his mouth one more time and you fall over the edge with a strangled cry.

His hands press into your abdomen, trying to keep you still so that he can keep working at you, but pleasure rolls over you as your body spasms below him. You lift your head slightly as you come down from the high, and you see him pushing himself into the couch, his eyebrows pinched in a strained expression.

When the shudders finally abate, Aaron crawls back up your body, a big grin eating at his face. He plants another kiss on your mouth and the taste of yourself on his tongue makes you whimper.

"I want to feel you," you gasp between clashes of teeth, "inside me."

He freezes and you're afraid you may have gone too far, but then he's tugging off his pants and you can't help the small smirk that flashes across your face.

When he's fully bare, your mind goes blank and you move to reach down and take him in your hand, but he just shakes his head, pushing your shoulder back gently to lay you down again. 

The apartment is silent except for low grunts and harsh breathing as Aaron enters you slowly, pushing forward until he is seated fully inside of you. His size is impressive and it takes a few moments for the initial sting to dissolve into white, hot pleasure.

He takes his time to let you get adjusted, but when you grit out a "please, move" he doesn't wait another second. His thrusts start slow, because he wants to work you up until you're writhing beneath him, but when he peers down at you, his breath leaves his body.

You are everything he imagined, and he can feel you everywhere, from the flush of his cheeks to the tingling of his toes. You look like a dream below him, one he never wants to wake up from.

Aaron pushes into you, harder this time, and a barely constrained bliss fills your eyes, a cocktail of desire and hunger mixing to create the greatest possible pleasure he can imagine.

You squeeze around him like a vice grip, and a deep, low sound rumbles in his chest, stuttering his movements.

Your legs shake as he runs his hand up your thigh, before lifting it up and around his waist. The new angle hits a deeper spot inside of you and you let out a moan so beautiful that he can't resist dipping down to press his lips to yours. 

You tighten around him once more and he can tell how close you are, so he speeds up his thrusts, creating a rhythm that has you shuddering against him. You reach your climax a moment later and with you falling apart below him, he thinks that he finally understands what it means to have everything you could ever want.

After a few more thrusts, he spills into you, his arms the only thing holding his body up as all energy flows out of him. He rests his forehead against yours and his breath stutters as he falls onto the couch beside you.

You may be completely spent, but you're not ready to be away from him yet, so you tuck yourself into his arms, practically on top of him as he wraps himself around you.

"I love you too," you whisper, ghosting your lips over his pulse.

Aaron sighs out a breath of contentment and he pulls you closer to him, unable to let go just yet. Emotions that he finally understands rise up inside his body and for the first time in a long time, he lets them wash over him.

This is it. This is what home feels like.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner fic

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 7 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): i feel like the theme is pretty established by now, still homophobia. negative talk about weight. a brief segment about Mr George's A+ parenting. as in, he's bad at it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 8

You accosted Cady Heron after Ms Norbury's calculus class. You took her by the purse strap and hauled her to the janitor's closet, ignoring all her indignant chirping.

You'd been stewing the whole class, glaring daggers at the back of her stupid orange hair.

"You've crossed a line." You said once the door shut behind you. She was cowering against the wall, looking like a cornered animal. "Those fucking Kälteen bars were too much."

"What? What're you talking about?" She tried to lie, to seem tough like the popular girl she was so desperately trying to be.

"I'm talking about the so-called weight loss bars you gave to Regina." You hissed, stepping closer so you loomed over her. You really wanted to get your point across. "It wasn't very hard to search up what they're really for. You don't mess with someone's body like that."

"She had it coming!" Cady finally relented, looking up at you defiantly. "She- she took Aaron from me and made out with him right in front of me all the time and then she just threw him away!" She yelled, hands clenched to fists and a red flush of rage blotching her freckled face. "All she does is spite me." She added with venom.

"Aaron isn't some trophy for either of you to own." You implored, trying to not react to her raised, aggressive tone. It would be mortifying to cry now. "I'm not saying she didn't do anything wrong, but Cady that's fucked up. You need to apologize."

"Why? Why in the world should I apologize to her? She hasn't apologized to anyone even though she's probably done something to everyone in this hellhole."

"Two wrongs don't make a right. I know that's cliche as hell, but what did you think you'd achieve?"

"We were trying to topple her. Make her lose her status. By making her gain weight, well, she'd get all ugly."

You shivered in repulsion. Regina had already sunken her claws deep into this girl.

"I... I honestly don't know what to say to you." Defeated, you said one last thing: "I'm out. I'm not taking part in your scheming anymore and I don't want to hear about it."

"It's not like you did anything!" Cady huffed.

"Exactly." You sighed. "I didn't do shit." She looked confused at that, but you didn't rightly care.

With that, you stepped out of the closet. This would probably be the only instance you'd step out of the closet, figuratively, in high school. A small victory, maybe.

"What were you doing in the janitor's closet?" You almost bumped into Regina.

Too stunned to hear her speak to you in public, you didn't get to answer before Cady stepped out as well. Her face was still flush and her clothes were a bit messy from you dragging her through the hall.

Regina's expression turned stormy. She seemed to coil back, tension rising in her body as she took stock of the state of you. You could do nothing but stare as she levelled Cady with a murderous look.

When she turned to you, you nearly flinched back. Not only was she angry, furious really, but you'd hurt her. It was clear in the way she was breathing hard and heavy, how she was shuddering the lightest bit, how her lips pinched together. When Regina was angry, only angry, she went cold. It wasn't like this. This was something worse.

"Reg," You tried to say something and went to touch her arm.

"Don't." Don't call me that. Don't touch me. She hissed, hurt turning to fear as she looked around you. People weren't staring, luckily you hadn't caused a scene, but there were always eyes on Regina.

You looked down at your shoes and, with great reluctance, walked away. It was considerably harder to keep from crying now.

Not feeling up to geography, you went to your usual spot. The number of cigarettes you smoked in a day was starting to get a little too much. You couldn't find it in yourself to care now.

Once you arrived behind the bleachers, you tossed your backpack onto the grass and sat on it. The ground was cold and getting colder by the day. Soon enough it'd snow.

What the fuck were you doing? You'd impulsively confronted Cady, angry for Regina's sake, but you hadn't been able to really say anything to her. You'd asked her what she was trying to achieve, and all the while you had no idea of what you wanted.

You wanted everything to be okay. That was vague. You wanted Regina to be not nice, but herself. She wasn't vindictive by nature. You wanted her to apologize, but couldn't open your fucking mouth and say that. You wanted Cady to stay the fuck away from her, same went for Janis and Damien.

You weren't so dumb as to expect you'd be able to convince anyone. You didn't have any weight in these people's lives. You barely existed. For Regina to change, something drastic needed to happen. Something like a fall from grace, you grudgingly admitted. It would change her, but it would also hurt her. You didn't want to do that. Maybe if her dad changed. Then again, even if he changed that wouldn't erase the past. Maybe Cady could move her somehow. Regina had taken her under her wing, after all, though for misguided reasons. Maybe there was something there.

(The pattern was hard to miss. Regina rounding up pretty girls around her. When you no longer measured up to her standards, she got Janis. Then she threw her away. Eventually, she found Karen and Gretchen. Now, Cady was next.)

You heard approaching footsteps and crossed your fingers, hoping it wasn't a teacher. Soon enough, Janis 'Imi'ike appeared before you in all her gothy glory.

"Gimme one." She demanded as she squatted down in front of you.

"That'll be fifty cents." You said back. There was only one person you'd share your pack with for free.

Janis tsked. "Fine." She reached into her pockets and after a bit of rifling handed you a coin. You pocketed it and offered the pack to her.

"Got a lighter?" She asked with the stick in her mouth. You tossed it to her. "Thanks."

You took the lighter back. She didn't say anything for a while. You could appreciate that, even if you didn't want to talk to her at all.

"So, you're out."

"Yup." You took a drag. "Espionage isn't for me."

"Even though you ruined all our plans?" You'd hoped they hadn't realized you were the mole, but you supposed that'd been naïve.

"Yeah. I'm not built for it." You looked at the slowly burning smoke between your fingers. "Y'know, you're not so different."

"What? Me and who?" She adjusted on her perch. The black eyeliner around her eyes made them look huge.

"Regina." She looked about ready to punch you. "What she did to you was evil, I know. It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" She took an angry drag. It looked ridiculous. Sucking on the filter hard enough to scrunch her lips. You closed your eyes for a moment to not be so amused by it.

"You want revenge 'cause you were wronged. Regina, she..." You didn't want to sell her vulnerabilities to her mortal enemy, but you wanted to try and reach Janis. "She's been hurt too. It's not the same, exactly, but she's not doing this because she's rotten inside."

"You don't know shit," Janis snarled, cig nearly snapping in half in her tight grip. "You're just trying to sympathise-"

"Yes, I'm trying to sympathise with her, is that so wrong?" You interrupted her, frustrated she wasn't listening to you. Or maybe she was and just not liking what she heard. If that were the case, your words meant nothing and you were a fool for trying. Still, you kept going.

"This one time, Reg and I- I mean, Regina and I,-" You knew it was futile to hope Janis hadn't noticed your slip-up. "We were climbing the apple trees in their backyard. We had a great time, sitting up there and eating the small, sour apples, just being kids. When we got back, though, we ran into Mr George.

"Regina had on a white sundress. It was covered in grass stains and bits of tree bark. Mr George got so angry. He started yelling right in her ear, I don't even remember what he said. I was so afraid. Regina just stood there, staring at nothing. We were holding hands and she just went limp. It was as if she was used to it, like she knew exactly what to do.

"Then, he told her to get the dress to Mrs George immediately. And no dessert that day. As soon as we got away from him, I burst out crying. Poor Regina didn't know how to console me, so she just took me to her mom. She was sorting laundry in the mudroom, I think, and as soon as she saw us she just said: "Rick yelled?" Like it was so normal. Regina started crying then too."

You took a drag. "I can't stop you from seeking revenge. But I guess I'm asking you to. I'm asking the same of her. She doesn't need to take her revenge against the world, either."

Janis picked at her nailpolish. All black except for the ring finger, which was a shoddy rainbow. "If you think that sob story's gonna convince me, think again. So what, her dad yelled at her so it's okay for her to, hmm, let's go down the list, uhhh, belittle her supposed friends, degrade random passers-by, steal boyfriends like it's a hobby, breed eating disorders, and so on. Riddle me that."

"Where do you think Regina learned to treat others the way she does? Where did she learn that in order to be safe, she needed to be above everybody, that she needed to be in command at all times? Where did she learn that she needed to be mean to gain that authority? Not just mean, but vicious and cruel and fucking scathing." You raved, voice rising. "Riddle me that, Janis."

"Her daddy issues don't take away the choices she's made!"

"No, they don't, but they explain them. Doesn't intent make any difference to you?"

"You're seriously telling me she didn't intend to ruin my life when she told everybody in school that I was a lesbian?"

"I'm telling you she's a bad person, a flawed person, but redeemable. I'm not asking you to change your opinion, I'm asking you not to take this stupid revenge idea any further." You paused to take a breath. "Janis, I'm... I'm a lesbian too. She's not inherently bad."

"What?" Her voice was like a whisper.

"Yeah. I came out to her when we were, like, eleven." You'd known so early because you'd been crushing on your best friend. Wonder who that'd been. "Looking back on it now, I think she ditched me for you."

"And then she left me too, fucked me over, and moved on to her next victim." Janis looked shell-shocked. Did you really pass as straight so well? Or was her gaydar all wonky? "She- she didn't tell anybody?"

"No, I don't think so. I've never gotten any shit for it. Or, well, I have 'cuz I look pretty butch, but not like that."

Janis just looked at you, cigarette burning away. You took a pointed drag. She copied you.

"She's not homophobic. She just didn't like me." Janis said, mostly to herself it seemed. You couldn't tell what she was thinking or if this information had changed anything.

"Does that make it better or worse?"

"I don't know. It still hurts." You could understand that. "I need to talk to Damien about this."

"Don't spread any of this around." She looked at you sharply. "Obviously you're gonna tell him, I didn't mean that."

"Well. Good." She stood up and stretched her legs. "I'll think about your proposition." She said as she stumped the cig out with her boot.

You scoffed. "Bye." Proposition.

Her consideration would have to be enough for you. You stumped your own smoke as well. There was little time left to contemplate lighting a new one when yet another client came to your outdoor office. You could start charging visitors with the amount of people coming in and out of your alcove.

Regina stood above you, face still conveying not-good things, but the glassy surface of her eyes had disappeared.

"Move aside." She commanded. You shuffled off of your backpack obediently, planting your ass on the damp grass without complaint. Her pants were more expensive anyway.

"I was telling Cady she'd overstepped." You blurted before she could get a word out. "I'm sorry if it was, like, a bad move I just... I felt like I needed to say something."

"Yeah, well, that was stupid. You shouldn't have made it seem like you knew me." You winced sadly. "I don't need you to defend my honour. And you also totally ruined any leverage I had with that."

"I'm sorry." You kept your head down, looking intently at the grass.

"Hmm." She just hummed. You couldn't read her like you usually could, preoccupied with keeping yourself calm. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Confused by the sudden topic change, you looked at her. She was leaning her elbow on her knee, her temple on her fist. She had on a little smile, like she hadn't just shamed you. You should've probably been relieved. She wasn't mad. But you were still in it.

"Uh, I'm..." You shrugged, trying to regulate. "Dad isn't coming home, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, you're coming to mine for Thanksgiving." She said so easily. "Mom will be thrilled."

"What? Thanksgiving at the Georges?"

"That sounds like a shitty TV show. Like Seinfeld."

"I'm serious, Regina." You swallowed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. If you act like you did the other night, everybody will be charmed." She grinned like that was an inside joke between you two. "Only my aunt and cousin, mom's side, are coming. I think you've met Riley. Aunt Josie is cool."

You were starting to feel sick. You knew her, at least thought you knew her, but her switching up how she treated you whenever she felt like it was getting tiring. What did she want from you? How were you supposed to act? Could you even ask without her getting mad or you embarrassing yourself?

You had conviction in that you liked her, wanted to protect her, and would be on her side, but was that enough? Did you have enough strength to sustain the rollercoaster that was Regina George? It felt as if there was no other option than to keep riding. You couldn't exactly jump off unless you were prepared for certain death.

"I've met Riley." Your tone must've been telling of how drained you were feeling. Regina tilted her head at you.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just tired." You didn't want to be around people for the rest of the day. You wished you could just go home, nap, and have Regina there. Your Reggie, a little bitchy but funny, the side of her she only seemed to show when you were in private.

"You could go home." Her suggestion was tempting.

"No, dad's gonna yell at me again if I skip any more classes." He'd already called you earlier that month. It hadn't been pleasant, to put it nicely. Fifteen minutes of him berating you over the phone felt like a split second compared to the hour-long rants he'd go on when he was home. So, it could've been worse.

"I'll come over to yours later." She stated rather than asked. Obviously, you had to say yes, however reluctantly. "We could go shopping, too."

"You'd take me shopping?" Now that was new. You couldn't help but be a little pleased by that.

"Grocery shopping."

Oh.

"Mom says it's best to get some of the ingredients for Thanksgiving early." Regina recounted, crossing her arms and leaning against the metal backing. Your backpack had her elevated so she was a little above you. A change in pace.

Even her lower chin looked good. Damn.

"This early, though?"

"You know her. She's neurotic."

"Maybe a little bit."

"So, you'll come?" Resigned, you nodded. "I'll come to yours and we'll go."

"Why aren't we taking your car?"

"It's too recognisable. Duh." Yeah. Of course. How could you forget? "We're going pretty late, too. Less foot traffic."

You hummed. It wasn't as if you could change society. Even if things were different with Regina, you still couldn't be seen getting too cosy with her. You could like her from a distance and that was that. You could be a good friend and that should've been plenty. Really, above anything, you wanted her to be happy. With or without you.

That thought grated on you. You didn't want to lose her. You weren't sure if your choices made it so that you already had.

Why did everything have to be so hard?

Notes: This was originally supposed to be the climax chapter, but it seems we're still climbing. Next chapter then! Look forward to it :)

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment that on this post :))

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #wlw #lesbian regina george #mean girls x reader #fic: yard work

[toxinoire]

I just realized I haven't made Mean Girls headcanons yet so have them

I'm not putting ships in so anyone can see them as they want

but I'm tagging some ships because why not

~~~~~

• After they all made up, Gretchen made friendship charms for everyone

• You will have to pry those charms off their dead bodies

• Seriously someone tried to take Damian's once and he pushed that guy so hard he hit the lockers

• Janis is scared of the dark but she'll never admit it

• Regina saw Karen's playlist once and saw songs that are so damn psychotic it actually scared her, it's why she was quite nice to Karen even when she was queen b.

• Damian gifted Cady a stuffed lion, Cady cried for a solid ten minutes after that

• Aaron can bake really well

• That being said, he bakes cookies for everyone separately based on what everyone prefers

• Janis's favorite song of all time is actually Dead Girl Walking from Heathers The Musical; but if anyone asks, she'll answer a heavy metal emo song

• The day Gretchen learned to fully say no is the day you saw the entire group cry because they were so fucking proud of her

• Cady discovered Hazbin Hotel and now makes everyone watch it with her

• Janis is an English nerd

• Regina is a History and Literature nerd

• Regina already knew how to play lacrosse when she was younger, she just stopped because her dad said "ladies shouldn't play sports"

• Safe to say that she has daddy issues

• Karen can do a perfect backflip and land on her toes

• Damian squealed so fucking loud when he learned that no one in their group is straight

• Janis's phrase "that is tits" rubbed off Gretchen and now she actually uses that

• "This is the most poorly written essay I've ever fucking seen" "Just help me Janis"

• Someone in their school made fun of Kylie George but it turns out Regina and the rest of the group was behind him

• The whole group just said "oh no" as Regina decks this boy in the face with her lacrosse stick

• Damian always always says "Move I'm gay" in a crowd

• Janis and Damian are FNAF enjoyers

• They all dressed up as Ride The Cyclone characters for Halloween

• Damian was Jane Doe

• Cady secretly enjoys dark romances

• Gretchen is a walking first aid kit

• When Karen gets mad, she just doesn't speak and smiles

• When that happens everyone knows they fucked up

• Aaron's love language is physical affection, he will wrap them in a bear hug in the middle of the hall

• Janis loves gummy worms. I will die on this hill

#mean girls musical movie #mean girls musical #mean girls movie #mean girls 2024 #mean girls #regina george #janis sarkisian #janis imi'ike #damian hubbard #cady heron #gretchen wieners #karen smith #karen shetty #aaron samuels #rejanis #cadina #cadnis #caaron #fetchen #damiaaron #tagging these ships so every mean girls user sees this lol

[spaceshipellie]

everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

prologue (masterlist for other parts) *✧･ﾟ: wc: 1.7k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: set in tlou universe. reader is 16 in the prologue but is 19+ for the rest of the story, weapons, gunshots, death, violence, no mention of ellie yet but all in due course cuties, is this going to be a slow burn? maybe… 18+ mdni

author’s note: this fic was originally inspired by the song everything by muna. i’m so excited for this, if you want to be added to the tag list lmk! i have no idea how many parts this will be but i expect it’ll be quite long. thanks for reading loves <3

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

˚ · • . ° .

You didn’t know it yet, but your time in the Pittsburgh QZ was wearing thin. You had lived there your entire life, sixteen years to be exact. For people who lived pre-outbreak, a military-controlled quarantine zone probably didn’t seem like much of a home, but it was all you knew. Your dad was a smuggler and whilst for the past few years had managed to keep you and your mom out of it, his current job was proving to be riskier than originally anticipated.

“You said it would be quick,” you heard his seething whisper whilst you backed yourself against the other side of the wall, listening in.

“It was supposed to be! look, man, I’m sorry,” another man’s voice said.

“Just–fuck, just make sure we get the stuff we need before we hand anything over, alright?”

“We’ll try.”

“No,” you could hear shoving, “you will, understand?”

“Yes,” you could tell the man was nervous despite trying to hide it.

“If this goes wrong, they’ll come after us, and my family. I know this is a fucked up situation and I should never have got involved with that fucking Aaron guy in the first place but here we are and I am not letting my wife and daughter die because of me, got it?”

Die? Your blood ran cold wondering what on earth your dad had gotten involved with this time. You heard the man mumble out a “yes” before the door shut and your dad sighed and banged his fist against the table. Not wanting to get caught, you creeped back to your room.

Once inside, you settled into the beat-up armchair that you had pushed against the window and stared out at the night sky. Stars twinkled and the moon shone a bright white. For a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else. Somewhere where everything looked this beautiful. It was a stark contrast to the withered frame of dust and peeling paint.

You could hear muffled voices coming from your parent’s room. They sounded like they were arguing and said something about talking to this Aaron guy on the radio. They did that a lot these days. argue. You knew they still loved each other but after silently analysing their relationship over the years, you could see that something of a ‘spark’ had gone. Then again, what did you know, it’s not like you had ever been in love. The closest you had ever gotten to a connection with anyone had been with Amy. When her hair would get caught in her mouth as you both stood on a roof laughing at how the wind parachuted your coats, you wanted to reach out and untangle it for her. Sometimes she would give you this look where her eyes would soften and her dimples would make themselves known as she smiled. It would make your heart skip a beat and you would forget what you were supposed to be doing. You guessed that’s just how best friend’s felt about each other. Completely lost in a trance, you didn’t notice the sound of thundering footsteps down the hall until a rough hand grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“We’re leaving,” your dad’s voice was indignant and stern.

“Leaving? where?”

Your mom burst through the door, her face soaked in fear.

“Charlie, please,” she pleaded, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry but we have to go.”

“Go where?” you demanded. You could feel the goosebumps raise on your arms. He couldn’t be talking about escaping, could he?

“We’re leaving the QZ. Come on, grab your stuff.” You just froze.

“Come on!” he yelled before running a hand over his face. He collected his anger just enough to look you in the eye and speak clearly.

“I don’t have time to explain, but some guys have fucked me over and it is safer for us to escape and leave.”

“But we’ll be killed!”

“We will be if we stay here. Now please, grab your stuff.”

His last three words came out with a bite and you thought better of arguing further. You looked across the room to your mum and she made a poor attempt at giving you a comforting look. Tears stung against your waterline and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve before grabbing your things together. Not everything of course. Not the Thelma and Louise poster you found once or the sketch Amy had drawn of the two of you before she died. But the essentials. Torches, jackets, guns, knives.

Your dad looked out the window, making a mental note of military whereabouts, before encouraging you and your mum out the door. You didn’t want to leave. You had never been outside the QZ and had only heard horror stories. Thoughts of where you would go once you got out, if you got out, clouded your mind. It scared you to think of what kind of trouble your dad had gotten himself into that needed such drastic action. You knew he did bad things but you knew he wasn’t the only one and there wasn’t much you could do about it. When he first started smuggling you had been afraid all the time, but over the years you became numb to it. That’s just what he did. But now all of those fears were resurfacing and you weren’t ready to face the high chance that you could die tonight.

The three of you were pressed against the outside wall, your dad in front holding his finger to his lips indicating you needed to be quiet. Your parent’s both held guns whilst you clutched your switchblade. It was dark but blinding lights from patrolling tanks occasionally illuminated the dank alleyways.

“We need to get over there, we move on my signal,” you could barely hear your dad’s whisper as he pointed at a metal fence on the other side of the road. You tried your best to be silent but couldn’t help the way your breath shook as you nodded.

After peering around the corner once more, he lifted his hand up, signalling for you to follow him. You had to be agile in order to make it across safely, which luckily was a strength of yours. You may not have ever been outside of the QZ but you had snuck around with Amy enough times to know how to go unnoticed. This was nothing like that though. Sneaking around and being teenagers didn’t feel like a death sentence.

You bumped into your mom’s back as you all suddenly stopped behind a parked truck. It started to rain and you were thankful that the splatters of water might cover up any sounds of laboured breaths and footsteps from you. A bright light casted over the truck as you strained to keep your head below the window. You were moving again and the fence was in sight. The closer you got the more you could make out a chained padlock on a gate. A menacing sign saying “UNAUTHORISED EXITS FROM A QUARANTINE ZONE ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH” was hung up next to your heads. Your palms began to sweat as your dad pulled a key from his pocket. You didn’t even want to know what he must have done to get that. He started to unlock and unwind the chains from the gate. You were so close. Maybe this insane plan would actually work.

“Drop your weapons.”

You all froze and slowly turned, initially to squint as a torch shone directly in your eyes. After a few blinks, your vision cleared to see a guard holding up a gun. You felt like you were choking and if anything the grip on your knife tightened instinctively.

“I said drop your weapons.”

You threw your switchblade to the ground. Your parent’s followed suit with their guns. The guard took a step closer.

“Let me exp–,” your dad attempted to reason but was cut off.

“On your knees and put your hands on your head.”

You glanced at your mom and she hesitantly nodded. You sunk to your knees, the cold, wet gravel soaking through your jeans to your skin. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your head. The guard, still aiming his gun at you, checked you all with the infection scanner before stepping back to his original spot.

“Sir, I’ve got three clean but armed people here by gate three. How would you like me to proceed?” he spoke into his handheld transceiver.

“Uh-huh… yes… yes sir.”

Before you could even think, two deafening gunshots went off in quick succession. Your head snapped round and you saw your dad pointing a gun at the guard, as well as a mass of blood soaking his shirt. You noticed the guard stumble and in a blind rush of adrenaline you snatched your switchblade from the floor. Your mom’s hand grabbed you, pulling you back from where the guard was aiming his gun again.

Another bullet fired. Your mom screamed. You grabbed her arm to support her and looked up at your dad for help.

“Go!” he yelled, firing again. You could hear more guards charging towards you.

“Dad,” your voice came out weak and strangled.

“I said go!” you had never heard his voice be this frightening. Fear carried your legs as you pushed your mom through the open gate. You shoved yourself through it as well, not knowing what lay ahead in the darkness before you. You could only focus on getting away from the constant gunshots. You didn’t stop moving but your movements had slowed as you looked back.

“Dad, please!” you yelled, tears making your cheeks hot.

He was being pushed against the fence by three, maybe four faceless guards. You could hear the struggle in his distant grunts as he fought against them. They were beating and shooting until his body went limp on the ground, next to the guard he shot.

“No,” your voice was a mere whisper to yourself. Shock and disbelief ringing in your ears.

“We have to go,” your mom pulled you away, she was crying too, “before they catch up to us.”

You both frantically ran whilst the adrenaline was still controlling you. Your mom groaned with each step. You didn’t even know where she had been hit but at least she was alive. You had got out and there didn’t seem to be anyone chasing you, but your dad was dead. Escaping seemed so futile now. It had been his idea. his plan. His doing that meant you needed to leave in the first place and yet it had ended like this. And now, to no avail, you had no protection. Nothing except what you carried on your back. You were out in the big wide world. A big, wide, terrifying world.

*✧･ﾟ: taglist: @bellasfavelesbo @ximtiredx @abbyily @heartzjules @gold-dustwomxn @sawaagyapong @aouiaa @pinkigirl @nil-eena @ucannotcompare @cherriesxinthespring @blvebanisters

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #tlou 2 #the last of us fic #spaceshipellie fics #everything’s about you to me #ellie williams fics #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #tlou au

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

The Contract

Aaron Hotchner X F!Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Over All Warnings: 18 + Only, MDNI, SMUT. Language, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive(mentally) father figure, does not line up with a specific time line, flip flops between 3rd and 2nd POV, so use of Y/n. BDSM Dynamics, contract, Dom! Aaron Hotchner, Sub! Reader, emotional detachment, reader is not good at taking care of herself, Age gap (Reader 25 Arron 40), explicit Smut detailed in chapters. This is a series 😅

A/N: listen y’all, Aaron Hot Hotchner has had me in a choke hold, I wish, since the moment I laid eyes on him. It’s only fitting he gets some love.

15 Years Ago

Her hands sting with little paint splinters, their jagged edges imbedding deeper each time her fists connect with the door. She gasps around another harsh sob, her eyes squeezed shut against the blinding darkness surrounding her. “Please daddy! Let me out!” She begs desperately, her small voice cracking. The door violently rattles back with a deafening crack, making her stumble back. She falls into the sink, clutching at its porcelain surface to stop herself.

“Shut the fuck up!” Her father’s guttural voice fills the confined space of the restroom, “The longer you cry the longer you’ll stay in there!” His words are slurred from the deers he’d had with his dinner, combined with the six he’d consumed during the day.

“Please daddy, I-I’m sorry.”

The only reply is the vibration of his heavy boots as he storms down the hall, shaking the old house. She presses her hand to her mouth, muffling her cries as she dares a peek at her surroundings. A pitch black void greets her, no light to be seen, not even from the bottom of the door. Blindly she feels around, the sink to her right, the rusted toilet to her left. Sinking to her knees she wedges herself in the space between them, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping thin arms around them.

She rests her head against the column of the sink, every small noise making her jump and squirm, her young imagination running wild. Hot tears cascade down her cheeks, getting caught in the hairs stuck to her face before sliding down her throat, finally drenching the neck of her night gown.

5 Years Ago

“Congratulations! You have worked extremely hard to get here, and I can see great potential in your future working here with the FBI.” The Superintendent, a short stocky man, who’s suit is a size too big, holds out his hand to the woman across from him. She’s schooled her features into a mask of calm and restraint. She shakes his hand firmly, quick and to the point.

“Thank you, sir. This is an opportunity of a life time for me, I do not wish to squander it.” Just barely, if he had blinked he would have missed it, does her lips twitch up at the corners. She’s dressed very plainly, black blouse with grey dress pants. The nicest clothing she owns in her sparse closet.

“You’ll be stationed close to home, for now. With high marks such as yours though, I can’t see you staying long should you request a transfer.” Turning the older man retrieves a small black badge book from his mahogany desk, her eyes trained on his movements with restrained elation. “Your credentials, Agent Smit.”

2 Years Ago

Jennifer Jareau, or JJ as she requested to be called, brings the young woman into the heart of the Quantico department. Her eyes are bright, turning slowly as she walks taking in every inch of the Bull Pen.

“It can be a little intimidating the first time, but you get use to it.” The blond smiles with a soft laugh, a stack of folders pressed to her chest as she tails behind. “It’s just this way to your desk.” She points towards an empty half cubical, the plain desk void of anything other than a computer and a gold name plate, displaying the name ‘Y/n Smith’.

“Thank you, JJ, for taking the time to show me around.” Y/n turns with a genuine smile, setting her purse and bag down on the small rolling chair.

JJ waves her hand dismissively, shaking her head. “It’s not a problem, I remember how it felt coming in here a bit green behind the ears. I’m glad to help, anytime.” Her blue eyes flicker over Y/n’s shoulder, her smile faltering. Y/n turns around, finding a stoic looking man staring down at them from the landing above. He’s wearing a fitted navy suit, raven black hair styled neatly yet a few strands still fall across his forehead. His brown eyes are hard and imposing.

“We have a case.” His voice is deep and smooth, like a fine whiskey, an air of superiority lacing those four simple words. His stance gives him away, hands resting on his hips and chin held high, let’s her know he must be the one in charge.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner this is Agent Y/n Smith.” JJ begins but he holds up his hand, his face hard and set with an unwavering determination.

“I’m aware of who this is, and what you are here to do. Gather the team and meet on the plane. We will debrief there.” And with that he’s gone.

Y/n turns to JJ, her mouth age slightly. “Is he… always like this?”

JJ forces a sympathetic smile, “Unfortunately, yes. But he means well. Come I’ll show you where we need to go.”

3 Months Ago

“How do you do it?” Garcia blurts the question out in the middle of the room, all eyes turning to look at her at once. Her cheeks grow a little darker under her blush as she realizes just how loud she had been.

“Do what?” Y/n asks back, spinning around in one of the chairs circling the table in the conference room. The team had just landed forty minutes ago, everyone decompressing with coffee and donuts, generously gifted to them by the bubbling blond herself. Y/n takes another sip of her black coffee as she waits.

“I’ve never seen you cry.”

The question startles Y/n momentarily, her mind going on the defense as she tries to come up with a suitable answer. Opening her mouth she closes it again as Reid begins, “Ya know she’s right. We work a lot of hard cases but you stay pretty stoic.”

Turning to the rest of the team she glances over their curious faces, her gaze snagging on Hotch. His eyebrow is cocked, but otherwise his expression is impassive, impossible to guess what he is thinking. He holds her stare, almost with a hint of a challenge and despite herself she drops her gaze first, clearing her throat.

“I-I don’t know. Just got a good emotional switch, is all.” Y/n shrugs her shoulder, tapping her fingers against the side of the mug resting between her palms. The heat is nice, seeing as the weather is turning and winter is right around the corner, the office is cold having been shut down for hours now, the clock on the wall reading 1 am.

“Some say that the reason others don’t cry as often or as much is because they are repressing their own emotions, or have a hard time connecting with them. Some just don’t have tear ducts.” She glares at Reid, that smart brain of his going to get him in trouble. Emily scoffs and turns on him in your defense, hand resting on her hip.

“Spencer.” She says his name drawn out and scolding, making him slouch slightly in his seat, appearing sheepish. Y/n holds up her hands, coming to Boy Wonders rescue.

“It’s fine, really though I’m just good at detaching myself, emotionally, from the situation. Emotions are frivolous things that can get in the way of an investigation.” She shrugs her shoulder, her demeanor convincing them she is uncaring of the topic.

“Titanic.” Derek suddenly pipes up. “I bet she cries at Titanic.”

The group laughs, Y/n forcing out one of her own as her heart starts to pound in her chest. Morgan and Emily turn on Spencer, lecturing him about what is appropriate to state facts about, while JJ and Garcia begin to clean up. Slowly chatter and shuffling turns to white noise, a ringing in Y/n’s ears filling their place.

She stares down at the table, shifting in her seat as she tries to squash the rising anxiety. Memories, harsh and bitter like her coffee, pelt her; her chest tightening uncomfortably. All the whole Aaron’s watchful gaze never leaves her face, her mask of indifference and solidarity cracking the longer she sits across from him.

Present Day

You stare out the window of your hotel room, the city is shrouded in darkness but there’s the eternal glow of the night life that makes the inky blackness not so suppressing. Chewing absently at your thumb nail you sway on your feel, comforting yourself with the gentle motion. Today had been hard, grueling and long, but in the end the good guys came out on top.

A knock at your door startles you out of your thoughts, your body stilling and instinctively your eyes travel to your gun resting on the end table. 3am is a little late for a visitor. Another knock spurs you into actions and you cross the shaggy green carpet to the door. Peaking through the peep whole your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you step back, pulling the door open with you.

Aaron Hotchner stands in the threshold, still wearing his suit from earlier minute the blazer. The off white compliments his complexion and raven hair. “Hotch?”

“You’re awake.” He doesn’t sound surprised, more so relieved.

“So are you.” You keep the door pressed to your body, concealing the thin tank top and sweatpants you’ve dressed in for bed.

“Yes, I am.” He looks past you into the small room before gesturing to it. “May I come in?”

You bite your lip, eyeing around him down the deserted hallway before nodding. “Yes, of course.” He steps in full and you close the door, turning quickly to the chair across the room, grabbing your jacket. You pull it on, zipping it part of the way before turning back to your boss. He’s looking around, that part of his brain he can never turn off analyzing every inch.

“So… what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, going back to the spot you’d spent most of the night occupying.

“I wanted to let you know the hospital called. Jenny is going to be just fine.” He watches as your shoulders sink, a breath blowing through your nose as you visibly relax.

“That’s… That’s great to hear. Thank you.”

Jenny Campell, the 9 year old little girl abducted by her father, who was held hostage for two weeks in a remote part of Boston. She was severely dehydrated and would likely have lasting psychological problems from the abuse her father put her through; but she was alive, and the good guys had won.

“I wanted to talk to you… about the house.” Aaron’s head tilts slightly, as it always does when he’s approaching a subject he thinks may cause someone some uncomfort. You hold his gaze, crossing your arms over your chest, confused by where this could be going. Aaron clears his throat before he begins. “How did you know to look for a secret door?”

6 Hours Earlier

The house was dank smelling, clouds of dust swirled through the rays of light coming from the flash lights of the officers ahead of you. The house has been cleared, but something was missing, Charles Campell said his daughter was here, but where?

You circle back into the smallest bedroom, the voices of Hotch and Morgan floating through the open door as they try to discuss a new plan. The room was littered with trash, a twin sized bed sits in one corner, a large oak wardrobe opposite it. Children’s drawings adorn the peeling walls, and a dusty pink sign hangs above the bed frame, ‘Jenny Girl’.

You step closer to the armoire, newspapers and takeout boxes crunching under foot, as you shine your light over the furniture. It’s new, newer than anything else in the entire house making it stand out against the decay. It isn’t until you’re right beside it do you notice the scratches along the lime green paint.

The realization dawns on your like a bucket of ice water being thrown in your face and before you know it your yelling for your team mates. “Here! Hotch!” Your put your weight into the side of the wardrobe, pushing with everything you have as the two men rush into the room.

Morgan runs for the other side, pulling as Hotch takes up the space behind you, his arms caging you in as he pushes. The three of you move it easily, a small door, presumably to a crawl space, appears in the wall and you rush to pull it open. Morgan covers you with his gun drawn, giving you a nod to go before you yank the door open.

There, curled up in her side, is the little blond girl you all have been searching for. “Medic!” Hotch screams from above you, as you quickly moves towards the girl. She small and light, her hair matted and dirty like her blue night gown. You presses your fingers to the girls throat, a weak pulse answering.

~*~*~*~

“Y/n?” Hotch snaps you out do your thoughts, and you shake your head, clearing yourself of the memory.

“Sorry… I just… I knew there was something there, I won’t say I could sense it but my gut hasn’t lead me wrong, thus far.” Aaron nods, waiting to see if you will continue. “Charles isn’t a lier, his motivation for taking her were simple, revenge on her mother. Make her squirm and give him more parental rights. He never assumed she would get the police involved. Much less the FBI.”

“Jenny’s father is not only a drug user but a heavy drinker. Everything he had done was under the influence and when he was captured, and the substances in his system wore off he had gaps in his memories of what he did with Jenny. Explaining why he couldn’t tell us exactly where she was, just that she was at the house.” Hotch finishes for you.

“Exactly.” You pause, eyeing him over. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, in fact you did amazing in the field today. You worked out the clue no one else could’ve, and if it wasn’t for you there is no telling if we would have found Jenny in time. I’m extremely proud of you.” His praise makes something in your chest stir without your permission. Your clear your throat to speak, but he cuts you off. “But you didn’t answer my question. How did you know there would be a door behind the wardrobe?”

Your palms suddenly feel clammy, nervousness making your spine straighten. “I don’t know what you-.”

“You do realize I am the one that goes through ever personnel file before someone is permitted to work with my team, correct?” His voice doesn’t have that hard edge like it normally holds, in fact his entire demeanor is soft, calming. Almost like he’s trying to comfort a wounded animal.

You are the animal.

“Where are you going with this?”

“I know about your father, Y/n. I have seen the police reports, and I know you take cases with children very seriously and hold them close to your heart.” He takes a step forward and instinctively you move back, a look of hurt washing over his features. “I need you to tell me if you are alright, if this case was to much for you.”

~*~*~*~

The red lights of the ambulance quickly fade away through the woods, leaving the house illuminated only by the head lights of the surrounding cop cars. Aaron is removing his vest as he walks around watching as people file in and out of the house taping and marking things off.

He stops by the van, pulling the door open and throwing his vest inside, when he notices a figure standing off by themselves. He squints into the darkness along the side of the house, the person is hunched over, hands on their knees as their shoulder shake subtly. He scans the people around him, finding Morgan by the entrance to the house, on the phone with the rest of the team and the other 5 officers are accounted for. That leaves only you.

Slowly he moves closer just barely making out the sounds of you muffled crying over the noises of the others. Concern wipes through his body like lightning but before he can move any farther Morgan is yelling his name, startling you in the process.

You straighten up quickly, wiping your face with your jacket sleeves and Aaron retreats towards the others. Giving you your space without the fear of embarrassment of being caught.

~*~*~*~

Your face burns, cheeks bright pink. You open your mouth then close it again, a mixture of emotions tumbling around inside you.

Embarrassment, anger, hatred, regret, longing to finally let it all go. None of which are directly targeted at your boss but he’s the only thing in sight.

“How dare you.” You seethe, letting anger take over because it’s the easiest to roll with. “Don’t come to my room at all hours of the morning, trying to… to… get something out of me.” Your anger propels you forward and you find yourself inches in front of Hotch. He holds his ground, his hands moving to rest on his hips and you break eye contact long enough to glance at them.

“I’m asking you if you are alright.” Aaron’s voice has dropped, the timber low and you can’t help but like the sound of it. There’s no denying Aaron is a handsome man, but there’s always denying your feelings.

“I’m. Fine.” You ground out.

“Your lying to me.”

“Hotc-“

“Sweetheart.” The nickname catches you off guard, your eyes widening with surprise, breath trapped in your throat. Aaron takes the opportunity, his large hands cupping your face, giving you no other choice but to keep eye contact even as your body stiffens and a look of almost pain flashes across your face. “I know you’re lying to me because I am good at my job and so is everyone else here. You think we haven’t noticed your apprehension when it comes to a dark room? Or the way you always stand closer to the other females in the room, even if it’s just Spencer?”

Your hands find their way to his wrists, tugging but he stays firm, he isn’t hurting you but he’s going to make you listen. “Sto-.”

“Youre to comfortable placating than possibly rocking the boat for yourself. You never finish a cup of coffee because you hate it plain, you’d rather wonder around a new building than bother someone to ask where a room is, you dont open up to a single person because of your anxiety.” Hurt is written clearly on your features, hurt mixed with anger but before you can say anything Aaron steams ahead. “With that being said, you are one of my best profilers. I’ve seen you take on men twice your size and never bat a lash. Behavior like this doesn’t just come from nowhere. Something happened to you that made you this way.”

That unwelcoming pressure behind your eyes begins to overwhelm you, much like Aaron’s presence, his cologne infiltrating your nose with each ragged inhale. “What do you care? I’ve done just fine with how I am by myself, I don’t need you digging around for answers that will have no impact on you whatsoever.” Your voice comes out softer than you would have liked, making you hate yourself more.

“I care,” He emphasizes with a stroke of his thumb across your cheek, a foreign feeling on your skin. “Because I can not sit back and watch you hurt yourself like this.”

You scoff, trying again to pull away, managing to take a few steps back only for him to follow. A hand slips to the back of your neck, hot and heavy, holding you firmly in place. “You’re being dramatic, Hotchner.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you open your mouth only to realize you aren’t sure. “I… I had a snack in the car. On the way here.” It’s a lame excuse, and he sees right through it.

“I want to make you an offer.” His brown eyes search your face, the anger turning into confusion.

“An offer?”

“Yes, I’d like for you to hear me out before you make a decision. Okay?”

“If it means you will let me go, then yes.” You give his wrists one last tug and he relents, but not before giving your neck a final squeeze. You move until your back is against the window, the cold night air seeping through the glass and into your jacket.

Aaron sits down in the only chair before gesturing to the bed, “Why don’t you sit.” It’s more of a command than it is a suggestion, making you root to your spot, giving him your best disgruntled look that rivals his on a good day. Sighing he leans his elbows against his knees, scrubbing a hand across his face. He looks tired, the wear and tear off the job showing more and more. Dark circles from a lack of sleep, a few new greeting hairs You could have sworn weren’t there when this case began.

“Well?” You snap, throwing your hand up before letting it drop against your thigh. Aarons eyes slowly lift to yours, a look you are unfamiliar with lurking under his features as he reaches behind himself, pulling a folded piece of paper you hadn’t noticed before from his back pocket. He tosses it onto the bed and a thousand possibilities run through your mind all at once. Leave of absence? Demotion? Pink slip? “Hotch…”

“Go on. It isn’t going to bite you, honey.” He let’s a little bit of humor color his words and you shoot him a glare. You close the distance, snatching it off of the bed and unfolding it to realize it’s a few sheets stapled together. Your eyes nearly double their size, mouth falling open as you read the header.

‘Consent of Submission.’

Paragraphs make up the first page, the words jumbling together as you try to make sense of where this is heading. The next page is filled with bullet points, titled ‘Rules’. Eat three full meals a day, go to bed at an appropriate time, check in with how you are feeling; to name a few.

As you continue to stare at the paper, confusion and distraught winning the war of emotions on your face, Aaron begins speaking. “It’s a contract, between you and I. It will help you properly take care of your self and I will help enforce it.

“‘Submission’? Aaron… This is… What?” You begin to tremble with a vengeance, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, it will help you learn to regain some control over your trauma and your everyday life. It will help with the anxiety, depression, and emotional detachment you are facing.” He speaks so surely, like he has done this before, and maybe he has.

“You mean it will help you control me.” Your accusation doesn’t phase him, in fact he looks to calm for the situation. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, leaning back in his seat with his head propped on his first. A complete opposite juxtaposition to yourself.

“In a sense, it’s power exchange. Nothing happens without your explicit consent, which gives you the power in what we do. Where I have the power is how we navigate those consents, what we do, where we do it, and how.” He takes a deep breath, giving you a gentle smile. “I’ve found people in your type of situation benefited greatly from being able to let their brains turn off, not have to over think every step of the day. Just exist and let someone else… Take care of them.”

“And if I say I don’t want to sign this?” You slam the papers back on the bed, more to hide your shaking hands than anything.

“Then I will have you go to therapy within the BAU system.” He shrugs his shoulder feigning indifference, even though his heart is thumping wildly. He thought the days of this life style were behind him, no longer needed, but the moment you turned up on the plane, he knew. Your lips were pressed into a tight smile, your body language screaming how uncomfortable you were seated between Derek and Rossi, though you desperately tried to mimic the calm demeanor surrounding you. Something stirred awake in his chest that morning, and he’s just been bidding his time every since.

Your stomach churns, weighing out your options. Somehow the latter seems worse. You run your hands into your hair, blowing out a breath. “I’m not submissive Aaron, you know this. This job requires to much for this to be a possibility. I don’t… I don’t see how it could work.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t, but I think there are things you haven’t learned about yourself yet. As for our job this is not apart of that, this is separate. We will just be ourselves, nothing out of the ordinary.” He says all of this so sincerely, a part of you wants to trust him. But the part of you that says no one is to be trusted squares your shoulders.

“What do you want in exchange? How do I know you won’t use this as black mail, or some chip to hold over my head?

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Sweetheart, There’s nothing I want in exchange, I’m trying to help you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.” You answer before you can even give it thought. Deflect, shut it down, move on. How you handle any sort of situation that strikes a little to close to home, that tries to dig out your weaknesses like he is doing now.

Aaron prepared for this, knew you would meet him with head on resistance, but also knew with the choices given what you would pick. You’ve gone back to staring at the papers, the wheels in your head turning at full force. He can guess within reason what you might be thinking, he had that same look on his face when he was introduced to the lifestyle all those years ago.

“Y/n.” Your eyes dart up to his, large and uncertain. “Give me a month, just one. If it doesn’t help, if it’s too much, then we call it quits.”

“Just one?” You echo back, Aaron nodding. He stands from his seat, large hand stretched out, palm facing the sky. This is crazy, wrong on so many levels. Not to mention the amount of trouble you both could end up in if someone so happen to come across this. Every fiber of your being screams the sentiment. But it’s your heart, though it bruises your ribs, that makes you place your hand in his. Aaron gently pulls you to your feet, making sure you have your balance before letting go.

“Go wash your face, then I want you in bed. You need to sleep.” Instantly you want to rebel against the order, the phrase ‘you don’t control me’ coming to mind but instead you turn on your heel. “Good girl.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and your shoulders tense up, but you force yourself to walk into the restroom, closing the door a little to hard. You turn to the mirror, a woman with scarlet red cheeks stares back at you and you huff. What are you doing? Where has your brain gone? Groaning lowly you angrily grab for your face wash.

Coming back out into the room, dabbing at your face with a hand towel, you find the room is lit only by the bedside lamp. Aaron, with the contract in his hands, looks up when he hears you. Your hand tightens around the scratchy white towel as a small smile tugs his lips up. “You look beautiful even without the makeup.”

You roll your eyes, tossing the towel into the small tub behind you. “A very typical male complement, Hotch.” You quip, glancing towards your bed. The covers have been turned down, and there’s a glass of water on the night stand.

“Here.” Aaron holds out a pen, and the paper, suddenly your hands have never been so clammy.

“I thought you said we would just try this for a month. Why do I need to sign?” You skirt around him, fidgeting with your jackets zipper. You can feel your heart beat everywhere, from your fingertips to the bottom of your bare feet.

“To protect us both, either you sign or there’s no deal and you go to therapy.” Skin bristling you spin around, whatever you were about to snap suddenly dissolving on your tongue. His chest is mere inches from your face, forcing you to tilt your head back to look him in the eye. He never seemed this tall from across the room. “You’re wearing my patience thin, little one.” The heady rasp of his voice as he whispers to you makes your stomach clench, for an entirely new reason.

Begrudgingly you take the pen and paper, pressing it to his chest to bear down on as you scrawl out your name on the little line. You notice his signature is already on the other side.“There. Happy?”

He holds your stare for a moment longer, and you think he might say something more before he steps back, taking everything with him. “We will go over everything at breakfast, we have an appointment with Jenny and her mother Clair at noon.”

Your eyebrows come together as he reaches the door, pulling it open. “I thought the teams going home today?”

“They are. I have paper work that needs to be done and you are my only child psychologist. Goodnight, Y/n.” He smiles as he closes the door behind himself, relishing in the shock written on your face.

#smut #apollyonsdarksecrets #criminal minds #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Warnings: mild angssstt reader pronouns: she/her

Daryl finally caved to the insistent knocking and went to the door. He pulled it open to reveal Carol standing on the front stop looking incredibly pissed off. She didn't ask to come in, just barged in past him, a foil-covered dish in hand.

Daryl watched in silence as she went down the hall and into the kitchen. He shut the door and followed.

Carol set the dish down on the counter with a heavy clack. "I made you a casserole," she said.

Daryl glanced at it and then back up to her face. "I ain't hungry."

"I don't give a shit," she snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Daryl's eyes narrowed and then he ducked his head, opting to stare down at his boots, the wooden slats on the floor, the dust in the corner—anywhere but at her fury. "What?"

"You know what!" she exclaimed.

Daryl gulped. "Is she okay?" he asked hesitantly, referring to you.

Carol crossed her arms and shook her head. "Physically? She's fine. She's staying with Aaron for a while. But she's fucking miserable and obviously you are too. So, what the hell, Daryl? What are you doing?"

He still couldn't meet her eyes. "I did her a favor. I dun think I deserve to get yelled at for—"

"A favor? You think that's what you did?" She scoffed and threw her hands up. "You didn't do her a favor! You made yourself leave her because you didn't want her to leave you! You weren't being noble, you were being selfish! You were trying to spare yourself the pain! How is that working out for you?"

It wasn't. Daryl felt so sick to his stomach, roiling with anxiety, that he hadn't eaten in days. He missed everything about you. His heart seemed to have vanished completely from his chest and the hole it left behind was so raw and painful he couldn't sleep, couldn't think, nothing... Carol paced closer to him and lowered her voice. "She wasn't ever going to leave you, Daryl. Anyone could see that. An idiot could see that. And now you've gone and done this... You better figure out how to fix it, and fast, before it's too late."

Prompt: "You made yourself leave her because you didn't want her to leave you! You weren't being noble, you were being selfish! You were trying to spare yourself the pain!" A/N: Ooooh, love me some tough love from Carol! Get it together, Dixon!

#daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #meddling!carol

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

That Skirt

Aaron Hotchner x Reader ~ SMUT

Summary: Highly requested follow up to Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), dom!hotch, sub!reader, penetration, multiple orgasms, light bondage, super self indulgent, possessive!aaron, needy!aaron, praise kink, sir kink, lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

A/N this is actually my first attempt at smut so if it’s bad I’m sorry

As soon as Aaron and I exited the house, we were confronted by the media who had been camped out in front of Daryl Richardson’s home. “Did you find Penelope Simpson?” they shouted. “What was it like coming face to face with Richardson?” One asked me, recognizing me as the supposed “lone survivor.”

“Everyone back up!” Aaron demanded, helping me towards the car once again.

We got back to the hotel feeling tired and dejected. Everyone just wanted to go home and hold their loved ones close but the jet wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow so we had to stay the night.

Aaron walked me towards my hotel room door, clearly reluctant to leave me alone. Even after we got married we always had separate hotel rooms for the sake of professionalism while at work. “Call me if you need anything, I’m 219,” he said, nodding to his door a little further down the hall.

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead before allowing me to enter the room.

As Aaron reluctantly went to his room he couldn’t help but think of the events of the night. It had started with anger, possessiveness, and arousal. The former emotions being deeply embarrassing for him. He didn’t like that he was so possessive of his wife, her strength and confidence had been part of what attracted him. He had and will never have any intention of smothering her but the second he was able to call her his, it was like a flip switched in his brain. He couldn’t stand the idea of other men looking at her in a way only he should. As for the rest of the night? He’s been riddled with worry and an almost neediness for her. He was scared when she was in that club with that man. But after seeing what Richardson did to Phoebe Simpson, he was terrified. He couldn’t help but think that Phoebe’s fate may have befallen Y/N had he been a minute later.

Trying to push his worry, anger, neediness, possessiveness, and arousal down, he started getting ready for bed.

Stepping into the shower, he let the warm water spray over him, loosening his tense muscles. Images of Y/N wearing that godforsaken outfit slipped into his mind. He felt himself begin to harden at the images of her leaned over that counter in the bathroom in that tight skirt. Reaching his hand down, he gripped his cock, picturing himself walking up behind her and fucking her right against that counter. Thoroughly making her his before she went into the field.

Eventually the image shifted to the interrogation room. Y/N was perched on the table in that godforsaken skirt while the man was eyeing her, talking about how he was entitled to her body and all the disgusting things he would do to her. Aaron couldn’t take it so he marched right into the room, pulling her off her seat on the table. He then flipped her around, pressing her back flat on the table. He immediately thrust himself into his wife, staking his claim over her and his dominance over both her and the unsub whose eyes burned with anger and jealousy.

Yet as enticing as the fantasy was, he needed the real thing in order to finish. He was still so wracked with worry he wouldn’t be eased until he saw his wife again. With his frustration and worry, Aaron quickly toweled off and dressed, going to Y/N’s room.

“Yeah?” she answered the door groggily.

Aaron immediately stepped into the room. Something that was normally out of character for the man but he didn’t want to be spotted and his unresolved arousal was clouding his judgement. Once Y/N had shut the door, now fully awake, Aaron explained. “I need you.” Immediately his lips were on hers, scooping her up to place on the bed. He laid her down before straddling her hips, kneeling over her.

“Aaron what are y-”

“I just… need you so bad,” he confessed. “Knowing what could’ve happened… I just can’t lose you or stand to see you hurt. And that guy- the way he was looking at you,” he seethed, jealousy tearing its ugly head.

“Hey,” she shushed him, “I’m safe. I’m okay, you saved me.” She was stroking the side of his face as he leaned into her touch. “Now let me make good on the promise I made earlier,” she promised.

Aaron’s lips were on hers again, this time reaching up, under her shirt. He was pleased to find no bra under Aaron’s old high school t-shirt as he gently took one of her breasts in his large hand. Y/N let out a soft moan at his grasp.

Her hands were tangled in her husband’s hair but one crept down, finding his achingly hard cock under his thin sweatpants. She ran her thumb across his clothed member, eliciting a groan from Aaron. Egged on, she began palming it.

Removing his hand from under her shirt, Aaron’s grasp found the bed as he desperately tried to ground himself. He separated from her lips a little. “You better stop or else we won’t get much further than this,” he warned.

Y/N smirked a little, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. Immediately Aaron’s hand was on her wrist, bringing it up towards the headboard along with the other one. Securing both her wrists with just one hand, Aaron spoke again. “You wanna give that another try?”

“I’m sorry sir,” she apologized.

“Good girl,” he smirked. Releasing her wrists for a second he immediately tugged off her shirt and shorts, leaving her in only her panties.

With some creative tying, Aaron managed to secure her wrists to the headboard with only her t-shirt, leaving her completely at his mercy. Grinding his clothed hardness against her soaked pussy, she let out a whine. “Please sir, I need you inside me,” she begged.

But Aaron ignored her, lowering his lips to her throat to find her sweet spot. As he did so, his finger reached down, pressing into her soaked panties. Finding her clit he began teasing her through the soaked cloth, eliciting more whines and the bucking of her hips.

Satisfied with the hickies littering her neck, Aaron finally moved his attention down, trailing kisses down the center of her body until he was kissing her clit.

But before his lips could attach to her pussy, he sat up, hooking his fingers around the fabric of her only clothing left. “You want me to take off your panties?” She nodded emphatically, unable to string together a coherent idea. “Words.”

“Yes! Please sir!” she begged.

Aaron smirked once again, enjoying the control he had over his wife in these moments. He knew he was the only one who would ever see her like this, hell he was the only one that could make her like this.

He crept her panties down her legs, leaving him fully clothed and her now completely naked and vulnerable. He then stuffed her panties back up in his wife’s mouth, gagging her so as to not wake the others in neighboring rooms. Finally putting his lips on her clit, she let out a muffled moan. Aaron could already feel the wetness leaking out of her pussy. He licked at her clit until she was teetering off the edge before moving down, penetrating her with his tongue. Moving his tongue around a bit she pulled against her shockingly strong ties as she orgasmed, her cum flooding Aaron’s mouth, nearly making him finish in his pants.

Taking a second to calm himself, he lifted his face back to hers. “Doing so good for me,” he whispered stroking her hair behind her ears. “Do you want your chief’s cock?” She nodded emphatically again, only further inflating Aaron’s ego. He absolutely loved having his wife at his complete mercy and asserting his claim over her.

Tugging his pants down enough to release his cock, he was immediately sinking in. The first orgasm had loosened her up but she was still squeezing his cock as he sunk deeper in. Only a quarter of the way inside, Aaron found Y/N’s head and eyes rolled back at the stretch. She moaned louder as he sunk further in until he bottomed out.

Once he was fully sheathed inside her pussy, Aaron groaned, admiring the image of their connected bodies. Moving his eyes back up to his wife’s face, he grabbed the panties from her mouth, not caring if anyone heard. “Who do you belong to?”

“You Aaron!” she nearly sobbed out. “You sir!”

“That’s right,” Aaron grunted, thrusting into her roughly and stuffing the panties back into her mouth. “No one’s ever gonna touch you. No one’s ever gonna hurt you. I’m never gonna leave your side again.” He punctuated every sentence with a thrust until she was tightening around him, squeezing him impossibly hard. She orgasmed again, coating his cock in her wetness. “Good girl,” Aaron praised. “You’re doing so good getting off to your husband.” Aaron continued to thrust into her, causing her to release a few frenzied sobs and moans. As Aaron felt his own orgasm approaching he spoke again. “You’re mine,” he seethed, thrusting into her again, hard. With that the coil in his stomach released and he emptied himself inside of her, coating her walls with his cum.

Still inside of her, Aaron laid his weight down on his wife, taking a second to catch his breath. He could feel her body shake from the orgasms, tracing his finger across her clammy skin. Nuzzling his head against her neck, he murmured, “You did so good for me.”

Gently sliding out of her, Aaron tucked his soaked member back into his pants before observing her ruined pussy. He took a second to admire their mixed cum leaking out of her.

Without even thinking about the state he left her in, still gagged and tied up, Aaron went to the bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth, he brought it back. Realizing his wife was still gagged and tied up he immediately went to release her. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, pulling the arousal and saliva soaked panties out of her mouth. Rather than discarding them, he put them in his pocket.

Quickly getting off the bed, he went to Y/N’s go bag. She propped herself back up on her elbows, watching in curiosity as he pulled out a worn pair of panties. Coming back over to the bed, Aaron gently pushed her back against the pillows so she was lying down again. He then pressed the panties into her still leaking pussy, wanting the preserve their mixed cum. She looked at him confused. “I want to remember my claim,” he explained, leaning down to press a kiss into her lips while stuffing this pair into his other pocket.

“Maybe I should start flirting with unsubs more often,” she joked as her husband began cleaning her up like he always did.

“Next time, I come into that interrogation room and fuck you there,” Aaron threatened, his face hovering over her’s

“Can’t wait,” she giggled. She then sighed, becoming serious again. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you, so much, too,” Aaron returned, kissing her again. “I can’t stay. I’ll see you in the morning,” he promised.

Masterlist

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut

[whiskey-bumblebee]

Let Me Put My Lips to Something

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Fem!Reader

Accessibility/Diversity notes: Reader taking birth control is central to the plot, in this one reader is a member of the BAU, reader has breasts and is shorter than hotch

Word Count: 3367

Warnings: extensive mentions of birth control, inappropriate workplace relationships, extensive innuendo, brief mention of guns

@ssamorganhotchner thank you for turning this into an actual idea <3 hope you enjoy ;)

It's been a few weeks since you stopped using birth control, and it's already affected your life more than you thought it would.

There was this guy you'd been seeing, Johnny, who was sweet enough, and patient with your hours. But as your hormones changed, it was as if he was a piece of fruit which had started to rot. You noticed that he chewed loudly, that he looked at your boobs instead of your face when you were talking, that his beard wasn't actually all that clean. His blue eyes, once kind and full of humour, started looking beady and demanding.

You sighed as you saw the three bubbles appear and disappear, bobbing up and down almost like a buoy in the ocean. He was clearly typing his response over and over. You couldn't blame him.

I'm so sorry, Johnny. I'm just finding it too hard to maintain a relationship and my job at the same time. I'm wishing you all the best. You're a lovely guy and I know you'll find an amazing person. Please, please understand that it's me, not you.

It was a neatly-crafted message. If only it was true.

In the end, he replied with a simple thumbs up and a smiley face.

Then there was your other problem. And here he was, right over your shoulder.

Aaron offered you a quick smile as he set your coffee down on your desk.

"Thanks, Hotch," You didn't look up, setting your phone face-down.

"You're welcome," He replied easily.

You and Hotch were working through some of the preliminary paperwork in some precinct in the middle of nowhere. Why didn't you ever have cases in the Catskills? Or Nantucket Island? Or Palm Springs?

Prentiss and Morgan were off doing interviews with locals, and Reid and JJ were... Honestly, you weren't actually sure. You weren't really listening. Your problem was requiring more of your attention than you'd like to admit. It was embarrassing, frankly. And now that he was back from the coffee run, your limited run of productivity would come to an end again.

Fortunately, if he'd noticed that you were having to re-read everything five times to comprehend it, he didn't mention it.

You tapped your pen irritatedly against the top corner of the file, and curled your hand into a fist over and over again, trying to work out some of your tension.

Sighing again, you took a sip of your coffee to try and still your mind. It was so fucking frustrating. Normally, you were sharp. Normally, you were an adult who could tune everything out. You were a good agent, it's what got you hired in the first place.

With your mind racing, you missed the table when you went to set your coffee down. You reacted just in time to catch it, but it sent a few drops splattering onto your pants nonetheless.

"Crap," You breathed.

Hotch raised his eyebrows at you. "Everything okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, fighting hard not to shout at him.

"Okay," He said, finally. "What's going on with you?"

"I spilled some coffee," You gestured towards your lap.

He left his desk and you watched as he asked one of the local officers something. He turned around and made eye contact with you, and you didn't care enough to pretend that you hadn't been looking at him. He gestured for you to come over to them.

"There's a bathroom just down the hall. They have a Tide pen for emergencies."

You nodded and walked in the direction he'd pointed in. You heard him following you, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be fine, Hotch."

He kept following you.

"I want to ask you something," He said firmly.

This side of the precinct was quieter, near the break room and the supply closet. If there was a place to yell at your boss, this was it. So you stopped, and turned to face him.

"Hotch, I'll be-"

"No," He shook his head. "What is going on with you? If there's something affecting your ability to work on this case, I need to know."

You glanced down either side of the hallway and tugged Hotch into the bathroom. He looked startled as you closed the door behind the both of you.

"This isn't appropriate-"

"You said you wanted to know." You said, lowering your voice. "So I'm going to tell you."

You walked towards him until his back was against the locked bathroom door. He put his hand on his hip, running his large hand over the fabric. For a moment it almost looked like he was going to touch himself. The thought made your knees weak. You closed your eyes and tried to steady yourself.

When you opened your eyes again, you realized he was searching your face for any indication of what was going on. He looked scared, and you glanced down at the hand that had been wandering his hip. It had stilled, now, and you realized that he was gripping his gun.

You backed up completely.

For a fleeting moment, you were grateful that this was one of the bigger station bathrooms you'd been in. There was an open shower, a sink, and a toilet, which gave you a little more space to put between you.

Hotch said your name softly. "You're scaring me," He whispered. "Please."

You rested your head against the cool, tiled wall behind you. "I'm off my birth control. And it's affecting me."

"Oh," Hotch replied, and you could have counted the ways the tension visibly melted off him. Most importantly, he wasn't holding onto his gun for dear life. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me-"

Your gaze flicked up to meet his, and he immediately stopped talking.

"It's affecting me because I had to break things off with this guy that I've been seeing, and I should be sad, but the only thing I can think about is you." Your sentence started off strong, and waned until you could barely whisper the last word.

"It's nothing to do with you, you're not leading me on," You said quietly, trying to reassure him. "I never used to think about you, but now... The way you look, the way your suits fit, the way you smell-"

Your voice gave way to an almost-silent moan and you tipped your head back, closing your eyes. Sure enough, underneath the smell of bleach and paper towels, there was his scent. Certain, confident, bold, clean, distinctive.

"I'm sorry," You whispered, your eyes still closed. "I know it's unprofessional, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You blinked your eyes open, and Hotch was a shade of red you'd never seen before.

"I promise, it's just pheromones or something, it's just while my hormones are regulating and then I'll be back to normal," You said quickly.

"I'm not sure," He started. "...how to address this."

You found yourself wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you.

"Do you need to fly back to Washington? I could wear a different cologne, or..."

He was more flustered than you'd ever seen him.

You shook your head. "If it would make you more comfortable, I can take sick leave until I'm over it," You sighed. "I wish it could have been anyone else. If it was Derek, or my barista, or anyone..."

A flicker of something resembling offence slipped across his face, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared.

"I'm going to say something," He said lowly. "And if you say no, we can pretend I never said anything, right?"

You nodded, and watched as he chewed his bottom lip. "Right."

"Would it help to get it out of your system?"

Your breath caught in your throat. It was the only thing you'd been able to think about for days, and here he was, offering it to you on a silver platter, no questions asked.

"Hotch," You breathed, staring at his lips. "God, yes."

"Okay." He nodded. "How do we do this?"

Without even thinking about it, you were walking over to him, and once again, his back was pressed to the bathroom door. He was taller than you, but his breaths were short, his chest heaving, and he was watching you, no idea what your next move would be.

You cupped his jaw and immediately, your brain knew it was wrong. This was Hotch, the person who signed off on everything you did at work. He was your boss, and his skin was warm in your palm. There was the slightest sensation of stubble against your skin. Your whole body felt hazy and warm, like you were swimming in a lava lamp.

You leaned into him, and he leaned into you. Inch by inch, you neared each other until your lips were touching from sheer proximity, rather than pressure. His breath smelled like the black coffee he'd been drinking, and his shirt was soft beneath your fingertips. He rubbed your nose against yours, nuzzling into you.

Then his mouth was on yours, and his thin lips parted easily. All of this tension, all of this agony, and he was kissing you like a whore the second you asked for it. His tongue traced the tip of yours experimentally, then slipped underneath your tongue, testing how easily you'd let him take control. You gasped for breath, inhaling deeply through your nose and curling your tongue against his. He smiled into the kiss and traced the shape of your tensed tongue, then leaned back slightly. You followed him, not wanting the moment to end. He ran his tongue over your lower lip as he slipped away, nipping your lip as he went. You moaned and pressed your lips against his, so hard that you felt like they might bruise.

His hands dropped to your hips, squeezing you tenderly. He manipulated your hips so you were at a slight angle, and he pressed his erection against your body, dragging himself back and forth. He gasped quietly and dropped his head back against the door, finally breaking the kiss.

"Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?"

"You really think you're the first person I've fucked in a bathroom?" He breathed against your ear.

Your eyes were wide when you looked up at him, and he cupped your cheek, bringing an edge of affection to the whole affair. He held your gaze for a while, and you couldn't read his expression, but you had a strong sense he was trying to tell you something.

With his other hand, he guided your hand towards his cock. "Is this what you've been thinking about?"

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Derek called your name. "You alright?"

You dropped your hand back to your side, taking a step back.

"I'm fine," You called through the door. "Could you bring my go bag and make sure nobody else comes down this corridor?"

"You got it," He replied, and you heard his footsteps receding.

Hotch cleared his throat. Suddenly, you couldn't look him in the eye, so you turned away, washing your hands.

"It's probably for the best," You said quietly. "We can forget about this, right? Like you said?"

You knew you were lying as the words passed your lips. If anything, the beast inside you was snarling in its cage, clawing at the inside of your stomach, more desperate than ever. You'd had a taste, and now you had the hunger.

"Right," Hotch replied quietly.

Turning around to drop the used paper towel in the bin, you saw that he was staring at the floor. In slow motion, his gaze tracked up your body towards your face.

"Fuck it," You breathed, closing the gap between you and kissing him, both of your hands pressed to his cheeks.

His hand came to the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the tender skin there. He murmured your name.

He turned away from the kiss. "You should wait for your hormones to settle. You're not thinking straight."

"It can mean nothing," You said, trying not to let your voice drop into a desperate whine.

Hotch let go of you completely, his hand resting on the door handle.

"It won't mean nothing to me," He breathed, and left before the words had time to sink in.

________

You know that something's really wrong because the team doesn't even tease you about the fact that you and Hotch were in a bathroom together. The car ride to the hotel was completely silent. Hotch was driving one car, and you'd been obvious about making sure you were in the other one.

JJ walked into the bathroom while you were brushing your teeth. Her face was apologetic as she handed you your phone.

"It's him," She said quietly.

You spat out the toothpaste and rinsed it down the drain.

"Am I going to lose my job?" You whispered.

She shook her head.

Taking the phone from her hand, you read the text quickly.

I'm sorry for questioning your judgment.

It's fine, You quickly typed back, hitting send. You were right.

For the second time that day, you watched the three dots bob on your screen, except this time you found yourself actually caring what would eventually pop out of them.

I could have done it if you meant less to me. That kiss was...

Heat rushed to your face, and you locked your phone, slamming it face down onto the bathroom counter.

JJ looked alarmed. "What? Please tell me you're not getting fired."

You shook your head. "Can we talk about it, actually?"

She nodded quickly, and you grabbed your phone, walking over to your bed. You crossed your legs and she sat on her bed, facing you.

She smiled at you encouragingly, but her expression was laced with worry.

"I stopped my birth control because it was starting to have some really bad side effects," You began. "And I'd heard that sometimes your mood changes, your taste in people changes..."

She nodded again.

"And," You breathed deeply. "For some reason, I'm like, super attracted to Hotch now. And it's making it really difficult to concentrate. He asked me about it, so I told him."

"Oh my-" JJ stopped herself. "That was brave."

You shook your head. "That's not it. At that point we were arguing in the bathroom, so there was nobody else around, and... We kissed. And it was... crazy."

JJ shook her head with surprise. "What? You and Hotch?"

You nodded.

"So what did he text you?"

You passed her your phone, and she read the last few messages. "Oh, wow. What does he mean about your judgment?"

"We were going to do more, and then he said that we shouldn't, because my hormones are all over the place, which is true."

"You should reply," She said. "He's probably panicking. It's way out of his comfort zone to be so open."

"I have no idea what to say," You sighed.

"Well, don't you want to... you know?"

Despite everything, you laughed. "Yeah, I mean. I still find him attractive. And he's a nice guy, and god... today..." You fanned your face.

"So what's stopping you?" JJ smiled genuinely.

"He said something."

She frowned.

"Promise this will stay between us?" You said.

"For sure."

"I said that it didn't have to mean anything, and he said that it wouldn't mean nothing to him."

"Oh, wow," JJ said again. "So he likes you?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I don't know. And now I feel like an asshole because it's like... It's like I have this power over him, and now that my hormones have changed, he has a chance. Do you know what I mean? It's like in high school, when the popular girl all of a sudden changes her mind about the nice guy, and it's like, no, you don't deserve him, this whole time he's been pining over you and you never even noticed," You rambled.

"Well," She said slowly. "I'm a big believer in following your heart. And if your heart is saying that the kiss really was something, then... I think it does mean something, even if you don't want it to."

You flopped back onto the bed. "You're right."

JJ moved to sit beside you on your bed.

You picked up your phone, pulling up your messages with Hotch.

I need you. You typed. My body isn't letting me lie to myself anymore. I need you, Aaron. And I need you tonight. I don't mean that I need your body. I mean that I need you in a way that I find fucking terrifying

You showed the draft message to JJ. "It's coming on a little strong, but?"

JJ nodded. "If it's true, then it's perfect. He's been hurt before. He needs the truth. And honestly," She stroked your forehead. "I think he needs you too."

You were silent.

"I think that's why the team has been so careful around you both today. Maybe you never noticed, but it feels like everyone except you and Hotch saw this coming. And all at once, it happened and then immediately unhappened."

"Really?" You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath.

She nodded. "It's like your perfect person has been there all along, and neither of you noticed."

You pressed send.

If you're mocking me, I want your two weeks notice on my desk by Monday. If you're serious, we should talk, He replied.

Your phone vibrated again.

You know where my room is.

_____

Your fingertips traced the skin of his back gently. The room was dark, curtains closed, lights off, except the light in the bathroom, which provided just enough light that you could make out Aaron's silhouette.

"Did you finish?" He murmured, nuzzling into your chest.

"Three times," You laughed. "You're an excellent lay."

He chuckled quietly, the sound muffled into your skin.

"We didn't get to talking," He said.

"How long have you...?"

He swallowed. "A while."

One of his thick fingers traced the shape of your left nipple. You reacted without meaning to, arching your back into his touch and sighing happily.

He watched your reaction, and the spark of arousal caught fire when you realized what he was doing. He was studying your body, the way it reacted to him. He was memorizing what made you tick.

"Today," You started quietly. "You reached for your gun when I came towards you. Were you really scared of me?"

He shook his head. "It was just muscle memory. I think you could hurt me if you wanted to, but I knew you wouldn't."

"I've never felt anything like that before. Needing something, someone, like that. I can't even describe it," You said, rambling into the dark quietness of the room.

"Trust me, I know the feeling," He breathed, taking your nipple into his mouth.

"Aaron," You moaned. "We should get some sleep."

"We should," He replied, sighing and rolling onto his back. You took advantage of his new position to rest your head on his shoulder, draping your arm over his stomach.

"I think this was meant to happen," You whispered, afraid that saying it out loud might shatter this fragile thing that was starting to form. "I know it's going to be complicated, but I feel like I was made for you."

He wrapped his arm around you. "You're perfect. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

You thumbed his chin. "Don't try and be the hero. I like you, Aaron. I want you to be lucky to have me." You smiled, leaning in for a short kiss. "If you want me, I'm right here."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Oh honey, you already have me."

A happy sigh left your chest, and before long, you were asleep, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time in... forever.

A thousand different thoughts were running through Hotch's head. It only took one look at your body curled against his own for those doubts to cease.

"We'll work it out," He whispered. "I was made to love you."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner/reader #hotch x reader #hotch smut #hotch fluff #hotch one shot #my writing #fanfic #criminal minds #bau!reader #hotch

[show-your-fangs]

Ooh are you still taking requests for Hotch? If so, I would like a smut fic with a plus size reader please! I always see stuff about how most fat people are self confident now, but that isn’t the case for me, maybe some reassurance from Aaron ? If you’re uncomfortable writing this or don’t want to, don’t worry about it!! 🤍🤍

hi gorgeous angel 🤍🤍 i hope i was able to deliver. i sprinkled a lot of smut because you deserve to be rewarded.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x plus size f!Reader

Words: 1.7k

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.

Tags/warnings: established relationship, self-concious/insecure plus size!reader, soft Aaron, a lot of reassurance, pet names (beautiful, gorgeous girl, darling), praise, oral (f receiving), basically Aaron eats you out to show you he's obsessed with you and your body.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

“No!” you screeched and he immediately stilled over you. 

Your heart was racing, your ears were hot with shame, the confidence that had led you here, to his bedroom, to his bed where you currently laid, splayed on your back with his tight, broad frame pressed tightly over you, evaporating at the mere thought of light. 

He had just leaned over you to turn his bedside table lamp on, to fill the room with soft light. He wanted to see you, wanted to get to witness every twitch, every shiver, everything he was about to make you feel.

He assessed the situation for a second, took in your heaving breaths which had turned from excited to terrified ones. He could make out the outline of your hands now fiddling uncomfortably with your fingernails.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, his hands slowly retreating from the lamp back to your body, to your hips where he gently began to draw circles.

“Can we…can we keep the light off?” you whispered, ashamed. “Please.”

You couldn’t see his face since the light from the hall was hitting his back in a low glow. But if you could’ve seen him, you would’ve caught the flash of sadness, of despair and hurt. 

He immediately understood why you were feeling this way, and yet he couldn’t help but get incredibly angry that you were. Not at you, however, never at you. It wasn’t your fault you were feeling this way, it was the fault of whoever had made you believe that you weren’t beautiful, that you weren’t desirable, that your body wasn’t perfect.

“Darling,” he started, his voice soft and gentle, kind and understanding. “You have the body of a goddess,” you winced then, and it unfortunately confirmed all of his suspicions. He truly was good at his job. It was eerie how he could read you so easily, so quickly, with nothing more than a single sound. “Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve.”

Your mind was stunned into complete silence. The voice that had been screaming was now quiet. No one had ever spoken to you that way, with such sincerity and intensity that you couldn’t do anything but believe them, take them to heart, accept that he was telling you the truth.

He wanted you, desired you, found you irresistible, and who were you to deny him of what he wanted, who were you to deny your body what it craved. 

You slowly nodded, breath hitching as you felt him shift again, this time the action emphasized by the click of the lamp turning on. Warmth enveloped the room, but you didn’t register it fully. 

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he purred. “Let me see you.”

You hadn’t realized you’d closed them until then. You took one more steadying breath, focusing all of your energy on his hands, on how warm they were against your hips, how they were gently and lovingly tracing circles over your love handles. 

You opened your eyes slowly, white specks of light fluttering as his beautiful face came into focus above you. He smiled brightly and you swore you melted right into the mattress. 

“There you are, gorgeous girl,” he praised. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose from your chest to your cheeks, a hot and adorable pink that matched the one on his. 

It was almost overwhelming to think that you had this effect on him, you made him blush, you made him smile so brightly you were afraid the sun would stop working, you made his heart beat so fast against his chest you were afraid it would break through. 

“I’m going to take off your pants, alright?” he asked gently, making sure to keep you comfortable as a priority, to take it at your pace, to go as slowly as you needed, even if all he wanted to do was jump you right then and there, bury himself so far inside of you that you forgot what you were even feeling self conscious about.

You nodded and his hands slowly slid down your body, delicate and soft, slowly and steady. He unbuttoned your pants, followed by the zipper, and then hooked his hands into the waistband. 

He looked back at you before he even began to pull them off and you nodded again, biting down on your lip out of habit. He slowly pulled your pants down your legs, the eye contact never faltering. 

You were feeling too much, the fire in your belly having spread to every part of your body. It was silly, silly to think that just by looking at you like you were the most beautiful person on the planet he could get you this hot and bothered. 

You’d always thought he was out of your league, nothing more than an unattainable dream, a crush that would lead nowhere. You knew his type, the athletic, runs marathons for fun, only eats lean protein with mountains of steamed vegetables with no seasoning type. And yet Aaron had managed to surprise you at every corner. 

He tossed your pants across the room, his hands now on your thighs. He ran them up and down like he’d done with your waist, diligently taking his time to feel, to commit every inch of your body to memory. 

He slowly opened your legs for him, to allow him to press himself flush against your core. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and he grinned brightly in response. 

“Can I eat you out, beautiful?” he murmured, the feeling of his hands, the feeling of his hot and hard erection pressed against your heat. You were practically panting, not really digesting his words fully. 

You nodded, the simple thought of the burning ache between your legs getting relieved enough to make you forget exactly what he had to get you there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly button, distracting, as his hands opened your legs further, parting them for him to settle into them comfortably. 

He continued to trail kisses down your stomach, taking extra care of making it a point to linger, to hum and groan and make sure he was constantly letting you know just how much he’d been craving you. 

He sank down to his knees then and the sight nearly took you out. Your head strained to stay upright, to try and see him, your eyes unable to look away from him. 

But then he pressed his face against your clothed pussy, his nose practically rubbing over your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell back on the bed, hands wrapping themselves tightly around the duvet. 

“You’re soaking, gorgeous girl,” he groaned, his thumb teasingly running down your clothed slit. You whimpered, the anticipation already making you lose it, which was exactly what he wanted. 

He gingerly pulled your panties to the side, his eyes practically sparkling as he took in your glistening folds before him. He moaned then, not wasting another second before he dove in. 

His lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking before his tongue began to lap circles over it. You moaned loudly at his actions, the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth spurring him on. 

He ran his tongue down to your opening, teasing your hole before pressing it flatley against your slit and licking all the way back up to your clit. Your mind went blank at that, whatever thoughts remained, positive or negative, swiftly evaporating into the night. 

He repeated the action a few more times, getting into a nice, steady rhythm. Your moans had gotten more chaotic, wild, free. Your body started to tremble, to move in tandem with his tongue, to seek it out to search for your own pleasure. 

That’s when he pulled back, a needy whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact. He grinned, his tongue licking up the wetness around his lips before he swiftly sank two fingers inside of you.

And just like that your moans were back, filling his room with so much warmth it rivaled the heat from the lamp beside your head.

"So tight," he groaned as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them upwards inside of you to hit the spot he knew would make you come undone. 

He leaned back down to press a kiss to your clit, the puffy nub looking incredibly lonely, almost begging to be given attention. 

“You’re beautiful,” he stated. It was factual, matter-of-fact, veridical, never a question about it. 

You sighed deeply, his words still sounding foreign to you, as if you knew them to be true and yet could not yet believe them in their entirety. 

“Say it,” he ordered before his teeth bit down around your clit. 

You practically screamed, the shock forcing you onto your forearms to see him, to see what he was doing to you. 

“Say you’re beautiful,” he repeated the command as clearly as he could, tugging now, enough to make the pain just edge on the line to uncomfortable. 

“Fuck, Aaron,” you whined, hands desperately trying to push him away by his shoulders. But he stood his ground, challenging. “I’m–I’m beautiful, I’m beautiful, I’m– gonna cum please–”

His teeth let go of your clit, the final jolt of electricity perfectly in tandem with a twist of his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from exploding, the tightness finally snapping, flooding your own body with more warmth than you knew what to do with.

Aaron dove right back in, his fingers sliding out as his tongue replaced them, sinking into you to feel your walls constrict, to feel your essence wash over him like a tidal wave. He lapped all of your juices up, his tongue skillfully working you through your orgasm.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even register anything other than the beating of your heart in your ears and the deliciously painful sting of overstimulation that was starting to take over as Aaron swallowed all you gave him.

After your breathing had calmed, your heart returned to a normal pace, your eyes focused on the room around you once more, Aaron stood himself up from between your legs, his even more pronounced erection pressing into you once more, as if to show you just how much harder you’d made him. 

“Now, was that so hard?” he joked, a satisfied smile over his glossy lips.

"You have the body of a goddess. Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve." will easily go down in history as once of the best lines of dialogue i will ever write.

now if y'all excuse me i need to go scream into my pillow.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner blurb #show your fangs writes #show your fangs hotch blurbs #plus size!reader #Aaron Hotchner x plus size!reader

[golden1u5t]

wait your turn | a.r x s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: having two partners is great and very fun until you're stuck on the sidelines while they have all the fun.

it was a little after 7pm when you were getting home from work and usually you'd be greeted by aaron and spencer on the days they weren't on a case. your eyebrows furrowed as you set your bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out your phone, you hadn't gotten any messages from either of them saying they got pulled away to a case and plus, you could hear the tv playing from in the living room.

brushing it off, you set your phone down on the counter and headed down the hall to your bedroom. though, as you got closer to the door you could start to hear small grunts and groans coming from the other side of the door. as soon as you walked in aarons head snapped up, though a small smirk played on his lips once you locked eyes.

"hi, honey. how was work?" he asked as if he wasn't fucking spencer into the mattress. you couldn't ignore it though, your eyes were trained on the way spencer was trying to jerk himself off in time with aarons thrust but he couldn't keep up and you felt a pang of jealousy shoot through you because that was usually your job, you usually laid under him and stroked his cock or you laid under him with his cock nestled deep in your cunt while aaron fucked him.

choosing to ignore him, you quickly started to pull your clothes off until you were only in your panties. you made your way to the bed and kneeled beside aaron, cupping his face and turning his head so that you could kiss him. after being satisfied with kissing him you pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere across the room so that you could situate yourself under spencer and pull him into a searing kiss.

you swallowed all of his whines and whimpers until he pulled away to rest his head against your chest. the second you wrapped your legs around spencers waist, aaron swatted your legs away.

"wait your turn, love.” aaron knew exactly what you were going to do if he hadn't stopped you and he could've let you but he wanted to see you squirm and pout. "he's all yours once i'm done."

"that's not fair." now it was your turn to let out a whine but still, you laid back against the pillows and waited for your turn. it wasn't often one of you had to sit on the sidelines while the other two got to do something, you all liked to be together and as close as you can get to each other.

when you were put on the sidelines you like how you could clearly see how they treated each other during intimate moments like this, not just taking turns making sure you felt the most pleasure the entire time.

"fuck- fuck- fuck-" aaron hissed out as he quickly pulled out of spencer, his head falling back as he quickly stroked his cock over him until he was cumming all over his backside. spencer let out a soft whine as his own orgasm died down. you watched how hard his chest rose and fell until he came back down, he moved from behind spencer and sat at the edge of the bed to fully regain himself.

"you think you can fuck me now or do you need some time, baby?" you asked spencer, pressing your lips to the side of his head. he lifted himself up on shaky arms to look at you, you reached up and pushed away the hairs that were stuck against his skin.

"yes, please. i wanna feel you." he nodded his head quickly but waited until you gave him the go ahead, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you. spencer took ahold of his cock and guided through your slick a few times-even though you both were wet enough-before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing into your warmth.

the gasp that came from both of you blended together perfectly as he bottomed out. spencer's ducked down and he tucked his head into the crook of your neck while your hand went straight into his hair. he took a moment to calm himself down before he started to pull his hips back and fuck into you, he didn't want to cum so fast but then again he hardly didn't get a break from when aaron was in him to being in you.

spencer lifted his head up and crashed his lips into yours, the kiss was sloppy and urgent but that made it all the more better. while you two were caught up in each other, you hadn't even noticed that aaron wasn't in the room anymore. spencer lifted himself up and tucked his hands under your thighs so he could pull your legs over his shoulders.

as spencer leaned back over you his cock slid deeper into your walls. you eyes practically rolled back in your head as the tip of his cock started to repeatedly stamp your spot. "right there, spence. fuck- just like that, good boy."

a soft cry left his lips at the praise and at the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, almost pushing him out. soon enough, you were moaning out his name as your release rushed through you and he was pulling out to cum over your pussy.

despite the sticky mess he made, spencer let your legs fall back down onto the bed and he fully laid himself on top of you. you both laid there with your eyes closed until aaron came back with warm cloths to clean you both up.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid x fem!reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #x reader #spencer reid x y/n #aaron hotch smut #spencerreid smut