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#aaron would be dead without her
lucindasthighs · 1 year
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thinking about Tatiana makes me so ill she's so tragic and strong and she was never fucking mentioned again after emerald secret.
she was an organic wolf and she got FORCED into an uncomfortable, foreign human form by Micheal + ein for literally no reason (they NEVER use or bring up these body-changing forever potions again) and is stuck that way forever. She was forced to follow ein in order to protect her pack. But at the end of the day, she gets her revenge. She's the one who kills ein. And tHEN SHES FUCKING GONE NOT EVEN A MENTION NOT EVEN BY AARON AS IF HE DIDNT BEG HER FOR INFO AFYAFSOXUXO
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colorisbyshe · 7 months
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I just came across a tweet saying that Aaron Bushnell--the man who burned himself to death while yelling Free Palestine until he couldn't anymore--will be "in the history books" and that phrase has been coming up a lot. And it chafes me every time I read it, every time I hear it.
Cause, a. no, a lot of this won't be in the American history books. American atrocities, especially those overseas but even those against American people (especially American people of color), don't go in the literal history books. Or the figurative ones. Most American atrocities are wiped from the collective memory... sometimes as soon as they happen. They go unreported (like the first person to self immolate to protest this genocide), they go erased, they go whitewashed, they go falsely recontextualized, and they get twisted into pro-America sentiment--we were right for those atrocities, we were wrong for them but we learned, we didn't learn from it but we felt bad about it and should be comforted for that soreness.
And b. is harder to verbalize but I'm gonna try. It feels... performative in the literal sense. Like we only value what is happening today out of deference for how people in the future will perceive it. We aren't doing anything to change anything NOW, to care about other people NOW, but so that one day... we'll be remembered a caring. Like this man killed himself as gesture, as a move for his legacy.
And I see this phrase--"this will be remembered in the history books"--whipped out in extremely horrific contexts. A child's dead body hanging off a wall, "oh, this will be in the history books." What does that even mean? Was her death worth the historical context? Was it necessary to embellish the horror of it all?
Would the people reading these hypothetical history books not get the wrongness of the genocide without the death of a little girl that you're using as... window dressing?
It just seems so weirdly self satisfied. Like you're eager to note you just witnessed a real moment that people will remember decades from now. When... a lot of people won't which is what is so tragic. A lot of people don't even know it's happening right now.
Because, again, it's not being reported. And when it is being reported it's not being reported honestly.
I'm not saying this well but it just feels like such a gross reaction to things we're seeing in real time.
Why does it have to matter later to matter now? Why is the hypothetical reaction of a history book reader the thing you think about?
A lot of people won't live to read those "history books" because people, right now, aren't doing anything to help them.
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mariasont · 4 months
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Parent-Teacher Conference - A.H
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a/n: inspired by the show the nanny! major lover of mr sheffield and fran fine
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
summary: you are not happy with jack's teacher flirting with your boss
warnings: hotch staring at your ass!, jealous reader, flirty reader, would prob def get a complaint against her in the real world, but alas!
wc: 0.8k
I'm terribly sorry, but my cat died before I got here.
I actually was in a car wreck on the way. I know I look fine, but it was super traumatic.
Mr. Hotchner you look so good today! Me? Late! Never.
These were the series of apologies and excuses that you were rehearsing in your mind as you navigated your way through the school hallway. In your defense, your tardiness to the parent-teacher conference wasn't without reason. Jack's newfound rebellious phase had him ruining your pantyhose with deliberate runs. He found it hilarious. You found it anything but.
You mentally prepared for that all-too-familiar, intimidating glare from Mr. Hotchner, the kind that could make you feel like you were plummeting from a cliff. Not only were you running late, but you also anticipated a less-than-glowing report from Ms. Thompson about Jack's recent antics. And in the back of your mind, a nagging voice whispered that Mr. Hotchner would somehow find a way to blame you.
"Oh, Aaron, you're something else!" 
You stopped dead in your tracks, gaze locked on the scene unfolding before you. Ms. Thompson's voice took on a higher pitch, full of animation, her elbows subtly drawing her tits together, leaning into Mr. Hotchner's space with an ease that bordered on disrespectful. At least in your eyes.
Aaron? The casual use of Mr. Hotchner's first name sent your mood from sour to downright acrid. You strode into the classroom, inching your skirt higher and affixing a practiced, beaming smile to your face. It was all charm and no sincerity.
"So sorry I was late," you began, allowing a gentle sway in your step as you glided into the room, your heels clicking a measured tempo against the linoleum floor. You mustered all your willpower to not shoot daggers at the blonde headed teacher. "I didn't miss anything did I?"
As you stepped into view, both Ms. Thompson and Mr. Hotchner turned their eyes to you. Ms. Thompson's showed a flicker of surprise, while Mr. Hotchner's were like slits, scrutinizing. But even his discipline gaze dipped, albeit briefly, to the curve where your skirt ended. 
"Oh, I... I didn't realize you were married, Mr. Hotchner," she mumbled, her hands fumbling gracelessly with the papers on the desk, her lips pinched in a straight line.
You could nearly hear the thoughts churning in Mr. Hotchner's head as his lips parted to correct her. Hastily, you cut in, "An innocent mistake, I'm sure."
He raised an eyebrow, a wordless question hanging in the air. Ignoring it, you flashed a saccharine smile and took the seat by his side, linking your arm with his. His muscles tensed, a reaction that almost coaxed a giggle from you.
It was all too easy to get a rise out of him.
"My wife, the epitome of timeliness,"Mr. Hotchner states dryly, his grip of your arm tightening just a tad more than called for. 
To your astonishment, the remainder of the conference proceeded seamlessly from that point on. Ms. Thompson restrained herself, both in wardrobe and word, and unexpectedly showered Jack with praise.
Exiting the classroom alongside Mr. Hotchner, you noticed he paused just long enough to ensure Ms. Thompson was out of ear shot. That's when you felt the squeeze of his hand on your side, coming to rest on the curve of your lower back, the pressure didn't move even as you found yourselves alone in the hallway--and you were far from objecting.
"Really?"
Your shoulders rose and fell in a pretense of innocence, well aware that his perceptive eyes weren't fooled. You tilted into his shoulder, doing a mental victory dance when he made no move to distance himself.
"What?" you asked, clutching your purse tighter against your side as you paced forward. "I was just helping you out. She looked like she was about to jump your bones at any second."
Mr. Hotchner's face was unamused, per usual. "Your generosity knows no bounds."
"Right?" You were aware of his sarcasm, but that didn't deter you. Your shoulders bumped together as you made it to the exit. "Consider yourself lucky."
An eye roll was his immediate response, but you could almost sense the smile he was staunchly holding back. He would never admit it.
"Yes, how could I ever manage without you?"
He paused to open the door for you, following behind as you stepped outside. You squinted against the sun's harsh kiss before giving him a teasing wink over your shoulder. He looked really good in the sunlight. He could use more of it.
"You wouldn't."
You caught his eyes lingering not on your face, but lower--fixated on your skirt, more specifically your ass. You raised your brows in question. 
"I think you sat in something."
You let out a startled gasp, hands flying to the material of your skirt. It was your favorite. "What? Where?"
His hands found their way to your waist, gently pivoting you for a better view, while your eyes settled on the stretch of road before you. "Oh, nope, my mistake. Looking good."
Your laughter spilled out uncontrollably, realizing just what he was doing. Cheeky man. And completely out of character, but you liked it. "Mr. Hotchner!"
 "I take my role as husband very seriously."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
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ssahotchnerr · 5 months
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okay i wanna see how aaron would react to reader being scared of a spider. like she sees a spider in the bathroom or something and screams and aaron runs in like “honey, what’s wrong?” and when he sees what made her scream he’s like “…y/n really? it’s smaller than your finger” or something like that !!
my hero
PLEASE that's so cute cw; fem!reader, spiders, established relationship, aaron being fluffy and lighthearted teasing <3
a shriek came from further within the apartment, followed by a desperate and distressed, "aaron!"
"honey?" abandoning his current task, aaron's feet carried him quickly down the hallway, rounding the corner towards the bathroom. the door was wide open, revealing you perched atop the closed toilet.
"what are you-" he entered, his first instinct being to look down at the ground.
"no, there."
you pointed frantically at the sink's countertop, or more specifically, the corner where the counter met the wall. there, was a small (while you'd insist otherwise) brown spider, with its legs scrambling as it attempted to climb up the smooth, slippery marble.
aaron's eyebrows quirked quizzically, before furrowing into a highly amused line. "a spider?"
"yes." you said as your gaze shot to him, eyes wide. like, hello? obviously?
a small laugh shook through aaron's chest, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes returned to your current houseguest. "and it was necessary for you to get on up-"
"just get it, aaron, please." there was a despaired strain in your voice, as if he didn't, you'd have no choice but to succumb to tears.
"i will sweetheart, don't worry." he pushed off the frame, ripping a small piece of toilet paper from the roll. with complete ease, and no hesitation, he smushed the spider, prompting a wince to come from you.
from both the spider, and simply him interacting with it.
"wait," as aaron moved closer to dispose, you sidestepped to the tub, standing on the edge. you reached out, grabbing onto his bicep to maintain your balance.
"it's dead, honey."
"and what if it jumps back to life?"
"then i'm sure it's first order of business will be to attack you." he quipped back, his tone playful.
as aaron reached down to open the toilet lid, you took that as an opportunity to clamber onto his back. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs around his waist, slipping down towards his thighs a bit without his usual, sturdy hold; you were going to stay as far away from that spider as you possibly could.
his strength didn't falter despite your unannounced action, dropping the deceased in and flushing. your cheek suddenly came flush to his, scooting your body up his back as much as you could manage, allowing you to watch it spiral down the drain.
once satisfied, and the toilet rumbling to a stop, you hopped off aaron's back, a bright smile forming on your face. "thank you." you cheesed, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. "my hero."
"you're as bad as jack. worse even." aaron teased as a smile formed on his face. he grabbed your hand to guide you from the bathroom, clicking the light off behind the two of you.
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zvdvdlvr · 8 months
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— I Love You
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— 🧠 synopsis. A tough case leaves you in the more than willing arms of SSA Aaron Hotchner.
— 🧠 word count. 2,409
— 🧠 warnings. Foul language. Idiots to lovers. Friends to lovers. Weird plot. Possible jealous!Hotch.
Maybe it was the children that hadn’t been saved in time. Maybe it was the pitying glances from not only the team, but the police officers. Maybe, even, it was the way Aaron’s eyes flitted away any time y/n looked up. 
No, y/n was mad. Angry, spiteful, defiant- any other synonyms for angry. The fact that the unsub had been completely fooled by y/n’s act until he had promptly decided he didn’t believe y/n’s promise to help in any way she could to lower his prison sentence. That’s the thing with schizophrenics: they’re extremely paranoid.
Y/n was so infuriated, she refused to talk- a habit that she had learned from childhood. If she didn’t say anything, she couldn’t get in trouble. It was a bad habit that y/n had eventually stopped by the time she went to college because the anger she kept inside of her without any kind of release would always find a way to rot her from the inside out. 
So now, even on the flight home, y/n still hasn’t said more than two sentences in a row.
— 🧠
Aaron Hotchner was a man with excellent observation skills and the ability to adapt. He knew y/n’s habit of reserving herself to silence due to the amount of time they have worked together, but Aaron felt like something was different this time.
Instead of starting the pile of paperwork he already had, Aaron instead found himself watching y/n. She was always extremely sensitive to cases that dealt with kids, but this seem to hit home, adding to the fact that their unsub had blown his brains out within a five foot radius of y/n and the seven-year-old girl that had been the last victim. 
When the team had gotten to the scene, they watched the little girl dissolve into y/n’s arms, brain matter and blood on the latter’s face. The look in y/n’s eyes when Derek had immediately rushed to the two of them was one of complete despair. Aaron watched, paralyzed, as you picked up the little girl and let her scream and wail near your ringing ears. You turned, pressing her head down so she wouldn’t look at the dead body and look Aaron dead in the eyes and took the child to the ambulance.
Something in your eyes had provoked worry in Aaron. Did you feel guilty? Were you not allowing yourself to break down when you needed to be strong for the little soul in your arms? Was there something you were trying to tell him?
“Hey,” Hotch murmured. He sat down as carefully as he could (which wasn’t too impressive seeing as it was 1 in the morning on a plane).
When you didn’t say anything, Hotch sighed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I need you to know you did what you had to do. What he did… that wasn’t on you, y/n.”
Then you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and Aaron felt his heart sink. “Oh, honey…” he whispered. 
And then you were in his arms, crying, while trying not to wake up the others. “Hotch, I-“ you started, sniffling. 
“I’m here, sweetheart,” Aaron all but cooed, lightly carding his fingers through your hair. He knew you blamed yourself because that’s how you are. You always strive to do the best you possibly could, oftentimes resorting to neglecting yourself whenever you did something that you knew you could have done better or simply because you forgot. 
“It’s all my fault, Aaron, I- I could have saved him but- I… I messed up and I- I don’t even know what I did! And that little girl…” you trailed off, another wave of tears threatening to overtake your ability to speak. 
Aaron’s throat bobbed as he struggled to find the words to comfort the woman in his arms. Long ago had he resigned to simply being y/n’s boss/borderline friend because he accepted the fact that- as much as he hated to admit it- he was older, not your type, or just simply unattractive. But he would do theoretically anything you asked him to do even if it caused him heartbreak in the future.
“You saved that little girl, angel. *You* did. If you save one of them, you save all of them. Focus on the good, honey, not the bad. If you can do that then you can do anything, and believe me,” Aaron smiled, “I have no doubt in my mind you can do anything.” 
Aaron held you and prayed to God that you didn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. He brushed your tears away and let you sleep on his shoulder, happy that he had hopefully gotten you out of your funk.
— 🧠
Later, Aaron woke up to Derek tapping his shoulder. “Do you want me to take our golden girl home?” Derek asked, with a softness to his voice that he had whenever he talked to you. 
Blinking away the tiredness from his eyes, Aaron shook his head. “No. No, I got her. Tjank you, Derek, but you need to go home and get some rest.” 
Derek nodded. “Get home safe,” he said to Hotch, a small smile in his face when he heard you sigh a little in you sleep and bury your head even further into Aaron’s neck.
Derek patted Aaron’s shoulder before taking his leave.
“Wake up, y/n,” Aaron murmured, heart swelling in his chest when he heard you mumble incoherent words.
Slinging his own go-bag and yours over his shoulders, Hotch helped you stand up.
“Hotch, lemme take my-“ you started, being cut off with a yawn.
“I got it, y/n,” Aaron chuckled. He let you slip your arm in his and all but lean on him as he made his way to his car. 
When he got you settled into the passage seat, Aaron tossed the bags in the back and started the drive to your house. 
“Aaron?” You asked, voice small.
He looked over at you. Despite the lack of light, Aaron watched you pick at your fingers. “Yeah?”
It took you a minute before saying something. You wanted to ask him why he kept calling you ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’. It’s not that you didn’t like it (you loved it), you just don’t think he could keep calling you that if he didn’t have any kind of attraction to you. You, though, you’ve been enamored with Aaron Hotchner since the day he shook your hand and offered you a job. 
Similarly, you wanted to ask him what he did when he got lost in his own mind; when he himself couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts. 
So you settled on a breathless “Thank you”. 
Silence reigned once more as Aaron tried to pick out the meaning of your thanks. Where you thanking him for driving you home? For letting you fall asleep on him? For… being one of the best friends you’d ever had in your life without saying it?
When Aaron carried your bag to the door as you unlocked the it, he wondered if there was another universe where he was taking you home every night, going to bed with you, waking up to Jack begging for pancakes with you, dropping Jack off at school with you, and then going to work with you. Maybe, Aaron thought, somewhere in another universe I’m watching the woman I love fall asleep with my child in her arms. 
“Do you… need anything else?” Aaron asked, holding out y/n’s go-bag for her to take. 
Aaron kicked himself. He felt like a school boy whenever you’re around, and the fact that he’s standing in front of you and your home isn’t really helping his nerves.
“Would you maybe want to, uh… stay? For tonight?” Y/n blurted. Aaron’s eyes must have widened because he saw y/n become flustered. “I- you know, just for tonight. I need a ride to work tomorrow anyway… You- You might as well just stay.”
“If you want me to-“
“Please?” 
Aaron stepped into y/n’s house and immediately toed off his shoes. “Where do you want me to put this?” 
“I’ll take it.” She accepted the bag and walked to her room.
Aaron walked around the kitchen. Your house was clean and colorful. You had quite a few photos of the sunset framed by your television, but there were a lot more candid shots of the BAU then of your family. Hm.
“Come here, A,” you called from your room (?).
Dutifully, Aaron followed the sound of your voice, pushing your door open slowly and entering your room. Where you sleep. Where you get dressed and undressed. Where you live.
You walked over to Aaron and handed him a little pile of clothes. “These should fit. I guessed your size. If those don’t fit I have more men’s clothes.” 
“Why do you have men’s clothing?” Aaron asked, a smile toying at his lips. 
“Brothers, boyfriends… they’re comfy,” y/n shrugged. “Does it matter, Aaron?” 
Aaron watched you tilt your head, smirk widening. 
“Just curious.” He defends himself poorly, red tinging his cheeks as he scratches his head.
“Bathroom’s right in there,” you say, pointing to the door attached to your room. 
Aarom walks to your bathroom and shuts the door. He immediately releases a breath of air he hadn’t realize he had been holding. After turning on the lights, he changes into the clothes you gave him. Both owns smelled exactly like you, something that made Aaron smile.
He shut off the light and closed the door. “Thank you, y/n. I appreciate it.”
You looked up from your dresser. “You’d do the same for me. There’s nothing to thank me, Aaron.”
“What are you doing?” Aaron asked, approaching your figure. 
“I don’t think you would want to see me walk around in just a bra and boxers, A,” y/n laughs. 
The bluntness of your answers smacks Aaron in the face with a metal bar. “Boxers?” He finds himself asking.
You just laugh. “They’re comfortable.” 
“You don’t have to change your sleeping routine for me,” Aaron says quietly, eyes looking directly into your own.
“Are you sure?” 
“We’re just sleeping,” Aaron shrugs. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”
Your eyes flicker between your boss’s and suddenly your wondering how you got here. The line between boss/employee and more-than-friends/not-quite-dating was blurred and you didn’t even remember putting your thumb on how you felt about your boss.
“Okay,” you say slowly. You close the drawer, holding a sports bra and boxers. “I’m gonna go change and go to sleep… Do you want me to set up the couch or just sleep in the bed with me?” 
“What do you want, y/n?”
You direct your gaze to the floor. “I don’t care, honestly.” You weren’t just gonna tell your crush you feel safer when his touch is what lulls you to sleep, that you’ve been in love with him since practically the beginning of time, that you wanted more than just a night (of PG activities!) with him.
“I hear your brain going 200 miles an hour over there, sweetheart. What’re you thinking?” Aaron teases.
“Will you hold me, Aaron?” You ask, urging yourself to look into his eyes. Moment of truth, you think, he’s either gonna laugh in my face or I’m gonna fall even deeper in love with my boss as we cuddle.
Aaron feels winded at your tiny voice. Yes, he wants to scream, yes! “Go get changed, honey. I’ll be right here.” 
Then that smile is back and all Aaron wants to do his pick you up in his arms and kiss you, maybe spin you around the room. His heart swells in his chest again (it’s been doing that a lot lately, he notes) as you pat his arm in thanks as you pass him to head to your bathroom.
Aaron climbs into your bed, setting his essentials (badge, keys, gun, etc.,) on the nightstand. 
You flip off the light switch and pad over to the bed and slip under the covers. 
For what felt like a millennium, Aaron held his breath and waited. 
“Aaron, I have to tell you something. It’s been on my mind and… just hear me out. Please. You don’t have to say anything back and I understand if-“ you babble.
“Take a breath, y/n,” Aaron soothes. “What’s up?”
“I’m in love with you, Aaron Benjamin Hotchner. Like, if I had to choose between you over breathing I would literally spend my last breath telling you how much I love you. You are always on my mind, Aaron, and it hurts because I can’t do anything about it. I know I’m not your type, I know I’m just your co-worker, I know you probably aren’t looking to date anyone, but I just… I want you to know,” you ramble, words tumbling out of your mouth like Reid when he get’s started on some random fact. 
Aaron blinks, pupils widening. “Do you seriously think you’re ‘just a co-worker’ to me?” 
You swallow. “Yeah?”
“Do you think I would let just anyone call me Aaron? How often to you see me taking out Morgan for coffee when he gets cranky? Do I almost always end up sitting by Emily on the flight home after a case? Do I call Spencer ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’?” Aaron asks quietly, hand resting on your cheek while he tucks a loc of hair under your ear so he can see your eyes better. “Jack loves you. I love you.” Aaron laughs at how comically large your eyes get.
“Jack loves me?” You ask.
Aaron laughs. “He loves you ‘to the moon and back’.” 
“He loves that book, Aaron, don’t laugh at your baby boy,” you scold playfully.
“I outdo him though, because I love you to Saturn and back.”
You turn to the nightstand and shut the light off before turning back to face Aaron. “Will you hold me, Aaron? Please?” 
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Aaron says, opening his arms to welcome you into him. 
And then that’s when you know his words are true. His heart rate  is definitely elevated, but so is yours. “Will you tell me you love me, again?”
Aaron, now lying on his back with you clinging onto him like a weighted blanket, complied. Carding his fingers through her hair, Aaron lulled her mind off to a quiet, safe place. “I love you, angel,” Aaron whispered, pressing a soft kiss to y/n’s forhead.
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strawbeerossi · 1 year
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Anger Management
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: You and Spencer broke up months ago over him talking to someone else. Whenever she dies and he’s left to grieve, he likes to take his anger out on you until one day you have enough.
Content/Warnings: Non descriptive break up, mentions of Maeve (I’m a Maeve hater), Spencer is an asshole, Dom!Spencer, office sex, unprotected sex.
Word Count: 1.5K
Kinktober Day Nine: Hate Sex
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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Spencer had always known that he was a creature of habit after learning the things he liked and disliked. He strayed from trying most new things, nor did he ever spend his time going out of his way to communicate with new people. He enjoyed his simple yet equally complicated existence. 
He had a stable job, he had a home, plus he had a huge combined family with his work colleagues. Besides you. 
Once upon a time, he loved you. The both of you spent every waking moment together at home and at work, enjoying one another’s presence and taking care of one another. Once he met Maeve, that changed though. He’d began to spend his time talking to the woman who he swore up and down was just his doctor who was helping him with his headache problems. 
The more they talked, the more you realized that had to be a bullshit lie. What kind of doctor makes her patients go to a payphone just to have a consultation or to discuss your issues? She felt like it was suspicious. They had secret conversations, things Spencer wouldn’t dare discuss after the fact. If you were honest, it pissed you off.
That was why there was an explosive fight, one where you were deciding on packing up all your shit in the apartment and you were leaving. You didn’t have to sit around and take it so you weren’t going to.
You’d transferred departments for a while after that, knowing the BAU couldn’t be home with your ex boyfriend still there. You’d moved on to Counterterrorism, which was an alright job. Paid the bills, you just preferred where you knew that you belonged.
Going for months without talking to Spencer and having no interest to, you thought you were recovering pretty well.
Until you got a call from Aaron Hotchner. Spencer was on bereavement leave and they were down an agent, which you’d briefly heard the long story of Maeve being stalked and ultimately shot in front of Spencer. He was practically begging you on the phone to come back, long enough for them to be fully staffed so cases could be solved timely and efficiently.
Which you did. It ended up with you putting in a transfer to come back to the BAU. Things went downhill after that though. Spencer was still going through the stages of grief and most of the issues and hard feelings he felt were taken out on you. He’d make sly and shitty comments regularly, things you did your best to ignore. He was grieving, it didn’t make it okay but you really did try to cut him some slack. The things he said were deep cuts, insulting your intelligence at times just to see if he could elicit a reaction.
That wasn’t the Spencer you knew, the Spencer that you loved. You just assumed that version of him was dead and buried along with Maeve. 
Today wasn’t a day to bother you though. After weeks of suffering from verbal abuse, you were tired of it. You’d woken up in a bad mood as is that morning, dreading what was to come the minute that you walked into the bullpen. A mood that Derek would jokingly say was because you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 
With the desk setups, it was no surprise your desk was across from Spencer’s, how lucky could you possibly be? You were looking through the stack of files you desperately needed to sort through when Spencer came in. Joy.
“You know, if you actually made forth an effort to do your job when it needs to be done, you wouldn’t have the pile of work you need to blow through.” He was getting started early, placing his satchel on the underside of his desk while retrieving a book. 
Without missing a beat, you picked up at least four of the files and tossed them carelessly onto his desk. “Then fucking help lighten the load since you are so concerned about it.” You snapped, which caught Spencer by surprise. You’ve been a quiet punching bag since he got back but here you were, snapping at him. That only fueled his fire.
“I’m not concerned about it, I’m giving you advice.” He had his own attitude while picking up the files before throwing them back to your desk. “I think you need to stop being so sensitive. It’s not a good look for you. I’m offering you advice.”
“No. You’re being an asshole and I’m getting tired of you taking every ounce of anger out on me! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You asked, hands slamming on your desk while you were pushing yourself to stand. The commotion had garnered the attention of every other agent in the bullpen, even Aaron and Dave watching from the windows of their office. You knew you’d be embarrassed later but you felt so good right now for standing up for yourself. As you stormed out of the heavy glass doors, everyone turned their attention to Spencer, who was in a stunned silence. “I’ll go talk to her.” He cleared his throat. He felt rage festering inside of him after that little display, however he kept himself grounded as he was heading out of the bullpen in search of you.
He eventually found you in one of the vacant offices, a frown on his face as he was quickly stepping inside and closing the door. “That was ridiculous.” He wasn’t here to apologize, only here to argue even more. “No, it wasn’t. I hope that I humiliated you infront of every agent in that room.” Venom dripped from your tone as you turned to face him, face red from anger. “I’m so sick of your bullshit. You think just because you lost someone that you have a right to make my life a living hell?” You asked, stepping closer to jab your finger into his chest. “Because you don’t. I’m sorry that whatever her name is died, I truly am. I’m tired of giving you a pass because I feel bad for you!” You spat.
That was the final straw for Spencer as he backed you up against the nearest wall of the office. “I knew you would try and bring her up into this!” He scoffed, both of you staring at each other in a tense silence. Within a flash, your hands were tangled in Spencer's hair while he was slamming his mouth into yours, the frustration and anger all melting into the kiss as he had you pinned to the wall behind you. “I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” You murmured against his lips and made Spencer grunt. “Like I’m not tired of your bullshit.” He murmured, his hands quickly working on the buttons of your pants while working on tugging them down. 
The haste was returned as you were working on his belt before tossing it somewhere in the room while tugging down the pants hugging his waist. The kiss was abruptly cut off as he was flipping you around, your body now facing the wall. It was for the best that you didn’t look at him, moreso because he’d pissed you off so much that you just wanted to use him for your own relief. You deserved this, even if he didn’t. He had a similar sentiment, your panties being pulled to your mid thighs. 
The thick tip of his cock was breaching your sex without warning, mouth falling open while you were letting your forehead rest against the wall, mouth agape as his thick cock was bottoming out. “Oh, my fucking god.” 
There was no time to waste, the large hands resting against your waist while his thick cock was pistoning inside of your tight cunt, a bruising grip keeping you in place. “Fuck. How does it feel to be a useless hole? Lord knows that nobody ever wants your fucking input or opinions.” His words were low, hips roughly snapping into yours as the echo of your skin smacking together filled the empty office. 
“Spencer-” You began before one of his hands was over your mouth, muffling any attempt for you to speak. “Shut up.” He growled. You both had issues together but this encounter really symbolized that. Spencer used to be slow and sweet, hardly ever cursing or telling you some of the filthy things that had been falling from his lips. A moan was muffled against his hand while his eyes fluttered shut.
“Gonna cum. You’re gonna take everything that I give you.” His lips were against the shell of your ear, the words making your mouth fall open. With a few more thrusts, it wasn’t long until his spent was gushing deep inside of you, the feeling causing you to hit your own release shortly after. 
Instead of getting the treatment that you were used to, he was pulling out of you and pulling up his boxers and pants. “Might wanna clean yourself up.” He commented, fluffing out his hair while walking to the closed office door. 
The last thing you heard was the door open and the footsteps out of the room followed by a slam of the door. 
That was one way to get over an argument.
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891 notes · View notes
railingsofsorrow · 3 months
Note
Emily Prentiss x reader with the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”.
They’re dating and an unsub takes reader (reader can be part of the BAU or not) and it’s like a switch goes off in Emily’s brain and she doesn’t hesitate to do anything to get reader back. When Emily gets reader back they see that side of Emily for the first time and is scared of her because they’ve never seen Emily like that. Bonus if unsub makes reader see what Emily does to get them back to try to make reader hate Emily.
who's afraid of little old me?
[emily prentiss x reader]
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summary: Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.   She should've seen it coming.
pairing: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader w.c: 2.9K warnings/content: case-related violence: blood, gun, gunshot wounds, fainting; flinching; a hint towards police brutality (implied); mentions of psychopathy (implied); language; discussion about committing murder to someone; crying; insomnia; protective emily; angst; fluff.
A/N: hello anon, here's your request. sorry for the delay, I hope you like it :)
[part of “the taylor swift anthology”] 
navi
masterpost
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[requested]
[press play]
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❝ if you wanted me dead
you should've just said. ❞
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Emily.
. . .
Emily!
She woke up with a start. Hyperventilating and shortness of breath, her chest was tight like someone was pressing their hands on it. She couldn't breathe. Not until your hands were touching and comforting her in a way only you knew how to do. 
Then, and only then, would she inhale and feel the air entering her lungs.
But two days ago, it wasn't like that. Two days ago, she didn't have you by her side in bed, whispering her name and making her feel safe, which was what she should be doing to you. You were the one who had been kidnapped and held hostage for a week. 
Two days ago, Emily almost lost you.
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[Two days ago]
Smoke came out of the car, blurring her vision as she tried to approach the vehicle. 
She had taken off her earpiece a while ago, bothered by her team's voice blaring through her ear begging for her to not move forward without backup. 
Right. As if that was such an easy task for her to do. Absolutely not. You had been taken a week ago by a woman they've been chasing for two weeks. A witness. She had been right under your noses the whole time and from the moment you walked into her house to get her statement, you'd become prey to her sick games. 
I should've seen it coming.
It's what echoed through Emily's brain non-stop. 
I should've seen it coming.
When you're on the job, you bottle up your feelings as much as you can in order to focus on cracking the case and saving lives. 
Hotch was stern and had that tough exterior that made people think twice before uttering a word, in fear of saying something wrong. He was an unexceptional Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and an even greater friend to Emily. He taught her everything she knows about how to be a good leader and taking that spot that once belonged to him for years was a tough choice. Emily didn't know how she would ever measure up to Aaron Hotchner, but she did know how to lead given her experience in London and that was a start. 
Something he had told her once, about letting people in, because they were too much alike on that point.
“When those people say they care, it's usually because they do. When you're on the field, you're coworkers, they're your team. But off the field... you're allowed to let go. They're your friends, Emily. We all are.” 
Hotch was trying to tell her not to compartmentalize everything. He was advising her to trust her team, her friends, because she deserved it and she wasn't all alone anymore. 
She believed that.
She believed she wasn't all alone anymore the moment you walked into her life with a smile and a plate filled with delicious chocolate chip cookies made by you. That was your first day of work, the first day she saw you, the first time she heard your voice, and the first moment she believed in love at first sight. 
Emily would let go when she was with you. She would be vulnerable for the first time in decades. She trusted you with her entire being. 
The issue with people that bottle up their feelings, is that they're a ticking time bomb. They hold on for as much as they can, maintaining that harsh exterior and unlimited control, until that control is lost and the fire is set. It explodes. No warning. No previous announcements. It just happens. 
Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple. 
I should've seen it coming.
“Megan, let her go.”
Your eyes were locked to Emily's unwavering figure, you sought her eyes but she didn't meet yours, not even for a second. 
Your hair was matted with blood and dirt. The blood belonged to you, you've lost count of the fights you had pulled to get out of the hell you were put in. You were most definitely concussed as well, though the headache was barely a pang in the back of your head. Adrenaline was responsible for keeping you standing until now. Once it wears out, you're certain you will collapse in exhaustion and dehydration. 
“Why?” The woman whispered in your ear, causing shivers to went down your spine. Her cheek was rubbing against yours. She was asking you why she should let you go. 
You know one wrong move can send a bullet straight to your brain and you didn't feel like dying tonight. Especially not in front of Emily. 
You admired her professionalism on the field. She'd never deviate or hesitate, always certain about her next move. You were proud of her. Of who she became. Proud of how she let you in in her life. 
Emily rarely got mad. She would lean towards annoyance and pout when something didn't work out the way she wanted. She would be the one to calm you down when you were mad, actually. 
Now, holding a gun with her gaze set on Megan Gilbert, there was profound anger and determination set in her eyes. 
She wouldn't look at you. 
"Did you see the damage she did to my partner?" She tightened her hold on your tied hands, pulling at them causing you to wince. "Agent Prentiss, are you playing a hero or an assassin today?"
"Stop it," you hissed. You knew what she was doing and you weren't so sure Emily would hold herself back much longer. 
"I think your team will call it overkill, won't they?" Megan didn't even show any sadness over the death of her brother. She wasn't capable of showing emotion. "So many bullet holes in Adrian's head... Tsc tsc tsc. Are you gonna tell them it was self-defense? That's what you all do, isn't that right?"
"Shut up!" You attempt to hit her head with the back of yours, but you barely graze it before she pulls you forward, throwing you on the floor as you groan in pain because of having landed in your right arm in an awkward position because of your tied hands.
"There it is, you have her," Megan drawled out. You have trouble turning over with both your feet and wrists tied up, but you did it. Emily is still pointing her gun at her, her ponytail slightly undone, you see sweat traveling down the side of her face, but she's unmoving, certain. "Now what, Agent Prentiss?"
She looked at you for a glimpse of a second as you fell, taking a step in front of you to make sure Megan wouldn't try anything. She wouldn't, not with her there. 
"Emily." You croaked out, voice rough, begging.
The room was filled with a daunting silence. The outcome could only go two ways: Megan Gilbert successfully arrested or with a bullet wound to her head. Judging by Emily's current demeanor, you were leaning towards the latter option. You didn't want that. Not because you cared any bit for Megan, but for how that would affect Emily if she pulled that trigger. 
"Em." You called her name again, trying to free yourself from your restraints. Megan had clearly lost her momentary infatuation with you after noticing Emily's reaction at seeing you hurt and she was successfully using that in her favor. Emily was her target now. Not you. Which was why she didn't let go of her gun. 
Damn it, Emily. Look at me, don't do it. Don't do it.
"You have her," Megan repeated, tilting her head with her gun wavering around the room with a laugh. "But you don't really have her, do you? Not now, not anymore." Your breath was shallow and you didn't know how much more you were able to keep yourself awake. The adrenaline was starting to wear out. "Because what I did... it will haunt her forever. I left beautiful marks on her body so that she could look in the mirror and see them- see the art I've made. Which, honestly, was a favor. She wasn't that salvageable before-Fuck!" 
You flinch back as the loud sound of the gunfire echoed throughout the room.
“Don't you ever, and I mean, ever—” Emily said through gritted teeth, pausing in between each word. “... talk about her again.” 
You looked away as she sunk her shoe into the bullet wound on Megan's leg. A maniac laugh escaped from the woman's mouth. 
“Oh, that's nice. Have I hit a nerve?”
“Emily.” You leaned back with difficulty, coldness crawling up on you. You could barely feel your legs anymore. You could barely feel anything. 
Something seemed to click in Emily's mind, bringing her back to you. When she turned around, her heart sank and she felt herself immediately running towards you, calling out your name so you would give her some sort of response. Anything. Your eyes were shut, your clothes ripped and dirty, a nasty cut on your lip. 
“Hey, I'm here.” Emily brushed your messy strands away from your face, her eyes analysing the number of injuries you had. Megan was still provoking her by the time the team came in through the door, groaning as they pulled her up forcefully. You looked away at her bleeding leg, earning a sound of mocking pity from her.
"You feel sorry for me, pretty thing?"
Emily turned back to glance at someone and spoke with an icy tone that made you inch away a little bit. You weren't scared of her, never. But anything caused you to flinch and god did you need to lie down and sleep, just sleep. "Get her the fuck away from here right now." 
Your name was called repeatedly and you didn't understand why if you were right there. Until you understood the reason why everything was so dark and the last thing you felt was somebody holding your head before you collapsed.
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❝ the scandal was contained    
the bullet had just grazed 
at all costs, keep your good name
you didn't get to tell me you feel bad. ❞
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“Em.” 
You asked, leaning against the wall. Arms folded across your chest. The living room carried the cold breeze from the night air, which meant that the kitchen window was open.
You know you closed it before going to bed, but the curled-up body on the couch told you who was responsible for opening the window.
“Baby,” you whispered, brushing her dark strands away from her face. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
She cracked one eye open, which made you sniffle a laugh. Then, she fluttered both of her eyes open, taking your hand that was caressing her cheek to intertwine with hers. 
“I'm not sleeping.”
You raised a brow. 
The corner of her lips twitched, “I can't fall asleep and I didn't want to bother you so I came down here.”
You shook your head, leaning down to kiss her forehead before standing up to close the kitchen window and then coming back.
"I told you." You perched on the edge of the sofa and she silently gave you space to come closer. You pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed next to her. Emily chuckled into your neck, wrapping her arms around your middle. "...to tell me when you couldn't sleep. I don't want you to be alone." You let out a sigh when she stayed quiet. "Em, you gotta talk to me."
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❝ is it a wonder I broke? ❞
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"I scared you." 
With furrowed brows to express your confusion, you grab her hand to pull it to your chest. 
"What do you mean?"
"When I found you..."
You quickly turned around to face her. "Emily-"
"You were already scared and I made it worse. It-it wasn't my intention, but the only thing I could think of was finding you to bring you to safety, which is something that I failed to do before."
"No, Emily. You didn't fail," you said softly. Your heart breaking as a tear traveled down her cheek, "that wasn't your responsibility. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do. None of us did. Em, it wasn't your fault."
She sniffled, shaking her head. "I should have known better."
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❝ then say they didn't do it to hurt me. . . but what if they did? ❞
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You cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at you. Her eyes were misty and you wanted more than anything to make her feel better. She shouldn't be crying because of you, that was the last thing you wanted. 
"Listen to me," you said, thumb grazing her jaw until it reached the back of her ear. She leaned into your touch. "I'm right here, that's what matters. What happened wasn't your fault, I do not blame you, you understand that?" You kissed each of her cheeks, tasting the salty tears that were dripping down like rainfall. 
You also felt the need to clarify something. "I never saw you like that," you admitted carefully. "You wouldn't listen to me and I was scared that whatever you did would affect you later. I didn't want you to do something you would regret. I wasn’t scared of you, baby."
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❝ if you wanted me dead 
you should've just said.
nothing makes me feel more alive. ❞
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Emily leaned away from you and you felt as if you had been burned. She sat down, drying her tears with a shake of her head. Then, her voice echoed through the silence in the living room. 
"I should have killed her. That's what keeps me up, that's what's affecting me. I should have ended there so she couldn't hurt you anymore."
"Emily." You sighed heavily, your frustration growing. You turned on your back to face the ceiling. 
"She almost killed you," Emily said in disbelief. "How can you sleep when she almost-"
"But she didn't, I'm here." And who says I’m sleeping?
"But she almost did!"
"And you wanted me to live with the fact that you would have killed someone for me?" You snapped. "I wouldn't sleep soundly, I would've questioned every decision I've ever made if I had been responsible for that. You're being selfish."
Emily blinked at you, studying your face quietly before diverting her attention back to her hands on her lap. You didn't understand and as selfish as it was for her to say that, you didn't almost lose her, she almost lost you. She would have never forgiven herself if she wasn't able to find you in time or if she couldn't find you at all. Just the thought alone made her stomach churn. It would have killed her.
Emily picked at her nails, "Right." 
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❝ so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street 
crash the party like a record scratch:
who's afraid of little old me?
you should be. ❞
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You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before you glanced down at her, gaze filled with sadness. "Can you please just... hold me?"
You didn't understand. But you didn't have to. Emily would do anything to protect you at all costs. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you or letting anyone hurt you. She promised herself that she would never let that happen again. She would make sure of that.
So when you asked for a hug, you were very much aware that she needed it more than you.
Your girlfriend's demeanor shifted to something softer, warmer, something you knew and needed. Not a revenge-seeking person. You didn't want revenge, you wanted to be in Emily's arms and help her get a good night's sleep for once. You wanted her to let you do that.
"I love you." She said in your neck, rubbing a hand across your arm tenderly. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I'm sorry you got hurt and I didn't stop it.
"Just hold me." You curled your legs around hers, bringing her body impossibly closer to yours. "I love you too, Em." It was the last thing you said before darkness enveloped you into something calmer and lovely, instead of the awful nightmares from two nights ago. You knew that you were safe in your apartment, with Emily close to you and Sergio creeping around the living room as he noticed his moms’ presence in the living room. 
It was the first night since you came back home that Emily was able to sleep without jerking awake frightened, out of breath. The first moment she didn't fear almost losing you.
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❝ I am what I am cause you trained me
so who's afraid of me?
so who's afraid of little old me? 
you should be.❞
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221 notes · View notes
princessxt · 4 months
Note
Oii julia, queria pedir um aaron hotcher em que a filha dele estivesse na fase rebelde e saísse escondido de casa e algo acontece, obgd desde já q você cresça mt
You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!
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Stay with me
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Pairing(s): Aaron Hotchner x Daugther!Reader
Gender: Angst
Warnings: Blood, torture, mention of death, criminal minds stuff
——————♥︎♥︎——————
Having a teenager at home wasn't easy, and Aaron Hotchner knew that. Y/n had just lost her mother, and was dealing with it in a natural way, rebelling against her father. Aaron tried everything to ease the pain of loss for her children, spending more time with them and putting them in therapy. This worked for a while, but later, her daughter's rebelliousness got out of her control. She left and only came back late, leaving her father worried, remembering the cases of dead teenagers that he had already worked with. She said that all her father's concern was nonsense, until one night, she ends up realizing that her father was right.
The Bau team was on a case,in Quantico. 4 teenagers had been tortured and killed, this messed with Aaron's mind, remembering his daughter, who was alone at home with her younger brother, Jack.
There were few clues in the case, and what affected Aaron the most were the similarities between the victims, who also looked like Y/n.
"It could be revenge. With the similarity between them. The killer sees the victims as someone who did him wrong in the past, so he takes revenge." Morgan says, twirling a pen in his hand as he examines case files.
"The killer could have been a victim of bullying in childhood by a girl with those characteristics. Or even been attacked by a woman like that." Spencer moves away from the board where he has photos of the victims pasted.
Aaron could barely focus on what was in front of him. He stood up and excused himself from his companions, ignoring their questions about his well-being.
He hurriedly enters his office and picks up his phone, dialing his home phone number. After a few seconds of calling, the phone is answered, and on the other end of the line he can hear his youngest son's voice saying "hello.".
"Hi honey, where's your sister?" He relaxes his shoulders after realizing that his youngest was okay. Little did he know what was coming.
"She's not here yet. I thought she warned you." Aaron's shoulders soon tensed again. His breathing hitched and his hands began to sweat.
"She hasn't arrived yet? Are you sure? Has she looked in her room yet?" He stutters, hoping that his son just didn't notice the older girl's arrival.
"I'm sure. The room is empty. I'm alone here" The boy says on the other end of the line. This couldn't be happening.
"Okay dear. Go to Aunt Sharon's house. And stay with her until I call." He tells the child to go to the neighbor's house, who was already an acquaintance of the agent. The phone is hung up and Aaron goes to the Garcia's room, knocking on the door and receiving permission to enter shortly afterwards.
"Wow, you're pale, is everything okay?" Garcia asks seeing the chef's condition.
"I need you to track Y/n's phone. She's not home yet." Aaron sees Garcia's face tense up and she immediately goes to her computer, typing quickly, But Aaron wasn't paying attention to that.
He only remembered the details of the case, and was afraid that a photo of his daughter would be the next to be placed on the victims board.
Meanwhile, Garcia anxiously typed on the computer, afraid of where Y/n was.
Not long after, she manages to track the phone.
"She's in a dead end on the street near the center. I think you should go check with Morgan or Emily." She turns to look at Aaron, but he was already out of the room, heading to his car. Garcia, worried, goes to the room where the other agents were and tells everyone what was possibly happening.
With Aaron, he drove fast, without thinking about the traffic laws he was breaking, at that moment, only his daughter's safety mattered.
Arriving at the dead end, he gets out of the car slamming the door behind him and goes to the end, finding his daughter's backpack thrown on the floor, along with her coat and her phone. Near his daughter's items was a piece of cloth , with a strong smell of alcohol and a few drops of blood near him. Aaron could feel the floor heave below his feet.
Fear ran down his spine. He felt like he was being shot when he understood what happened there. He was motionless, unresponsive as he held his daughter's coat, and could still smell the sweet smell of her perfume.
Behind him, Emily and Derek arrive and observe the scene, I understand what was happening.
"Hotch" Derek comes close to him and subtly touches his shoulder, while Emily calls the rest of the team to talk about what happened.
"He took my daughter." That was the only thing Aaron could say.
Y/n was smart and did something that would help the investigations before being taken. Her father always taught her and her brother self-defense. When she realized what would happen, she fought with the suspect and managed to injure him, making his blood drip onto the floor. This led the team to discover his identity.
"Garcia, find any place that has anything to do with him. It could be a family member's house."JJ tells Garcia while examining everything he had on the suspect.
It didn't take long for the blonde to find an old house far enough away that a person could scream and no one would hear.
All the agents were apprehensive when they arrived at the scene. They didn't know what they would find inside.
When they entered, the agents saw a horrible scene. Y/n was sitting in a chair, with her arms and legs tied, tape covering her mouth. There were bloody tools everywhere. Blood that was probably the girl's, who had cuts all over his body.
She raises her head, seeing the movement in front of her and her gaze goes to her father. Before she could say anything, all the agents point their weapons behind her.
The suspect gets closer to Y/n and puts a knife to the girl's throat before they can react.
"John, don't do that. She's not his sister" JJ takes over everyone and tries to negotiate with the suspect, who was neglected by his older sister during his childhood.
"She's not to blame for the things her sister did. Drop the knife and get away from her. If you hurt her, you'll be just like your sister. Do you want to be like your sister?" JJ approaches them. The suspect had tears in her eyes. Y/n looked at her father, also with tears in her eyes. Aaron watches the scene, ready to attack the suspect at any moment.
But JJ knew what he was doing, and with a few more sentences, he managed to get him to drop the knife, moving away from the younger one.
Before anything else, Aaron goes to his daughter, who can no longer hold back her tears, and sobs while her father unties her.
"I'm here, darling. Daddy's here" He removes the ropes from her body and the tape from her mouth. The girl's reaction was to fall into her father's arms, while she allowed herself to cry, finally feeling safe.
A few hours later, Y/n was already in the hospital, with her injuries treated, resting, with her father in a chair beside her holding her hand and her younger brother lying with her in bed, afraid of losing her, so how he lost his mother a few months earlier.
165 notes · View notes
littlespacereader · 5 months
Note
I saw that ur criminal minds agere fic is just one so here is my request
Daddy hoch x dada derek x little reader where something is bothering her but she regressed to a headspace where she is non verbal (she is always tiny in her headspace but today she was extra tiny) and they try to find out what's wrong but there gotta go to work but dont want to leave her alone so they go all to the Bau and after a while she falls asleep with her paci in mouth a stuffy under her arm a blankie in her hand and wrapped in a very big cozy weighet blanked 😍😍🥺
GET OUT OF HERE! Don’t actually because this fic is absolutely adorable!! I’m a sucker for a good CG!Hotch fic but CG!Morgan too!! I’m dead!! I absolutely love the ideas you added to the request so I made sure to include them all! I apologize for how long this took me to write. Between school and all the rewriting I’ve been doing it’s been a bit of a hassle. But I’m very happy with how this fic turned out! Please enjoy!! Thank you for the request!
Baby in the Bullpen 🍼🏢📄
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Caregiver! Aaron Hotchner, Caregiver! Derek Morgan, & Fem Little! Reader
Tags - SFW!, hurt/comfort, hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses, pacifiers, sippy cups, low key mentions of pull-ups, BAU family
Nicknames - Princess, sweetheart, baby, sweet girl, Daddy for Hotch, Dada for Morgan
Picture a day where everything is perfect. It’s a perfect day where everything goes well and there’s no problem or pressure at all. Almost like you’ve been floating on a happy little cloud.
Today is not one of those days.
Today is a day where everything that could possibly go wrong goes wrong. Like a rain cloud that’s only centered on you.
I knew the moment I woke up it was going to be one of those days. Snuggled between my Caregivers in a nice warm bed, what more could any Little ask for? But my alarm went off and off to work I went.
It wasn’t every day my Caregivers had the day off, so I was especially mad I had work while the two of them were home. But trying to match my schedule with theirs always seemed like an uphill battle.
I arrived to my job at the bookstore to a line, let me repeat, A LINE of angry customers! How you could possibly be angry in a bookstore is beyond me, but today wanted to test me to see my limits.
So there I stood, listening to one complaint after the other, all while trying to keep my composure.
My book came with scratches on the cover!
My book’s cover was supposed to be purple!
I didn’t like the ending!
You didn’t say it was a sad book!
Blah, Blah, Blah. All utterly stupid and pointless complaints that were more ridiculous than the next. Despite their ridiculous claims it’s began to ware me down with one right after the other.
I longed for the day to end, for my Caregivers, who were probably on each others nerve by now without me as their favorite buffer. The thought brought a smile to my face.
Then my manager came over and decided to ruin it all. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to stay later today. Elizabeth called in sick.”
“I can’t I have plans.” Do I actually have plans? No, nothing besides a nice early dinner and cuddling with my Caregivers. But she didn’t need to know that.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to cancel them. You’re the only one here so you’re going to cover it.” And with that she walked away.
Suddenly I felt the weight of the day layered on again. I became overwhelmed with emotions I wasn’t allowed to have at the moment. I took my break and went into the restroom to pull myself together.
Frustrated tears fell from my eyes but I couldn’t break down now, not yet. I would have time for this when I got home. I just needed a minute and then I could go back out there and deal with everyone once again.
~~~
Morgan could see Y/N’s headlights going up the driveway before he heard the car door slam shut.
“Hotch, she’s home.” He called out to him, before the front door opened.
The moment Y/N entered the house, Morgan and Hotch immediately looked over. Morgan sat by the television and Hotch had popped out of kitchen. But immediately they could both see that something was wrong.
“Princess? You alright?” Morgan right away asked. His usual smile replaced with a worried look.
Y/N didn’t say a word. She just dropped her bags and started crying. Morgan jumped from the couch and quickly made his way over to her.
“Hey, hey, hey, what happened? What’s going on?” Morgan lifted the sad Little into his arms.
Y/N didn’t say a word, she just grabbed Morgan’s shirt like her life depended on it and cried. Hotch crossed the house, joining Morgan and Y/N at the door.
The two Caregivers shared a worried look. “What happened sweetheart?” Hotch tried to ask but still Y/N didn’t say a word. She just buried her head against Morgan’s chest and continued to sob.
Morgan began walking around the room with the Little in his arms, lighting bouncing and shushing her cries. One arm wraps around her back with his hand cradling her head.
Morgan and Hotch continue to share worried looks to one another as the two Caregivers turn their profiling sides on for a moment.
“She was supposed to be home at 3 right?”
“Yeah but she texted me saying they had to keep her there long.” Hotch replied.
“So a bad day at work?”
“This isn’t just from a bad day at work. This is a build up. We were gone all last week and now the first day of our break she has to work. Mix that with possibly a bad day and…” Hotch trailed on.
“Poor baby,” Morgan coos, “Missing your handsome Caregiver today huh?” He jokes hoping to get anything from his little one, but it doesn’t get a smile. Instead she just rests her head on his shoulder as tears still slip from her eyes.
Thankfully all the walking around bouncing seemed to work, at least a little bit. Y/N was no longer crying but she didn’t seem too happy either.
“There we go, no more tear gorgeous. You’re okay now. We’ve got you.” Morgan sat beside Hotch on the couch, pulling Y/N in his lap.
Hotch leaned over and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “It’s been a long day hasn’t it?” He asked but Y/N just cuddled closer to Morgan instead of answering.
All at once the two realized their baby was feeling a bit non verbal today. It didn’t happen often with Y/N, but when it did they knew she was feeling especially young.
“Not in the mood for talking? That’s okay princess. We’ve got you.” Morgan starts to say.
“How about this? How about we go upstairs and get changed out of these big uncomfortable clothes and into something a bit more comfortable? Squeeze my hand once for yes and twice for no.”
Morgan took her hand in his. After a moment of thinking he set a single squeeze. He looked to Hotch and nodded. “Alright, let’s get you changed.”
He stands and immediately smells something burning. “Aaron…you’re burning dinner again.” Hotch’s face dropped. He jumps up from the couch and runs into the kitchen.
Morgan smirked and shook his head. He carries Y/N upstairs and while chuckling, “It isn’t really a Daddy dinner if he didn’t burn it?” He joked. That got a small smile from Y/N. They were heading in the right direction.
Once in her light pink bedroom, he set her down on her bed and began going through her dresser drawer. “Okay, I think for you tonight we’re going to get you dressed in the absolute softest pajamas. And the absolute softest pajama you have arrrreeeeee these!”
He turned back to the bed to see Y/N sitting patiently with her favorite stuffie Sharky the shark in hand. “Ta-da!” He held up the fluffy pink long sleeve onesie complete with footed feet.
Y/N squeezes their stuffie as they took a moment of consideration. They decided with a simple nod of the head as a yes to Morgan and the footed onesie.
“Great! I thought I picked a good one,” he winked, “Now let’s get you changed for the night.”
Morgan helped Y/N take off their normal work attire and changed into the soft onesie and a pull-up for good measure. “There we are. Now let’s get your hair out of your face.” Morgan moved to get their hair tied and brush when there was a knock to the door.
~~~
Daddy walked in and he had that look on his face. You know, the look that says something’s wrong and he’s not happy about it.
“Derek I need to speak to you for a moment.”
That’s never a good thing.
“Y/N, we’ll be right outside the door okay? Just for a minute.” Dada reiterated.
My two Caregivers left the room and closed the door behind them. Then, once again, I was alone. The terrible feelings start to come back again.
Dada scared them away with his gentle rocking, shushing and jokes. He always knows how to make me feel better when I’m upset. But now my sadness was returning and with it fear. It’s never a good thing when your Caregivers go to talk about something first without you there.
I squeezed my shark stuffie a little tighter as I stared down the bedroom door. Was I in trouble? Was there trouble? My mind started to spiral with ideas.
It sounded like they were arguing, not with each other but about something. Again, that’s never a good thing to hear. My sadness took a backseat for a second as curiosity took the wheel. I hoped off my bed and walked over to the door with the hopes of maybe catching what they were talking about.
“Call them back and tell them we can’t. I mean you see the kind of night she’s having.”
“You don’t think I know that? *sigh* I tried everything, every excuse in the book. Rossi knows us, he knows Y/N. He wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t life or death, you know he wouldn’t.”
“So what are we going to do? She can’t be by herself tonight-“
I backed away from the door as I processed what they’re saying. Uncle Rossi called? That means they were going to the office. They’re leaving me.
The realization brought sadness back to the drivers seat. I walked back over to my bed and crawled under the covers. Maybe it’s better if I’m alone. I don’t want them! I don’t want anyone!
I cried into my shark stuffie as I heard the door open and close again. Then I heard the sound of footsteps over to my bed before I felt someone sit next to me.
“Sweetheart it’s okay. You don’t have to hide it’s just Daddy.” Hotch said as his hand rubbed the top of the blanket.
Okay maybe I was lying when I said I wanted to be alone…because I don’t. I want him to stay!
I peeked my head out from the blanket and was met with Daddy’s worried eyes. He opened his arms to me as a silent invitation, one I happily took. He brought me into his lap and hugged me close. I rested my head on his shoulder as tears fell from my eyes.
“There’s my sweet girl. Now, there’s something we need to talk about.”
The last scared me, and all at once I started crying some more as I shook my head no. I don’t want to hear the bad news.
“It’s okay, you didn’t hear it yet. It’s not a bad thing I promise. It’s just…a change of plans.” Hotch sighed as he began to rub my back to calm me down, “You see, Uncle Rossi called me and he really needs Dada and I to go to the office and work on something. Now normal I would rather you stay home and stay far away from the office. But I can see you really need Dada and I tonight so…you’re going to come to the office with us.”
My sniffles here and there stopped for a moment as I process what he was saying. I would come into the office with them?
I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him confused. I would go to his office, like this? And he was okay with it? I mean, his team knows about my regress. One of them even regresses too. Spencer and I are best friends because of it. But everyone else at the FBI doesn’t know.
I guess Daddy could see my confusing because he explained on. “It would only be us, just our team. It’s too late for everyone else to be at the office anyway. Just Aunt JJ, Aunt Emily, Aunt Penelope, Uncle Rossi and Spencer. No one else.”
That put my worries at ease, but it didn’t answer million other questions running through my mind. Before I really understood what was happening, he stood up and made his way over to the dresser.
He paused seeing my hair ties and brush sitting on top. Daddy chuckled, “It’s a good thing I stopped Dada before he brushed your hair. Isn’t that right?”
I mean he wasn’t lying. When it came to doing my hair, Hotch is my favorite person…well after Aunt Penelope, JJ and Emily of course. Morgan…he wasn’t the most gentle when it came to brushing my hair. He sat back on the bed and began to brush and tie my hair.
Once satisfied, he went to my closet and grabbed my usual Little to-go bag. He began packing it with the usuals some coloring books, crayons, toys, my pacifier, and a weighted blanket. But speaking of paci…
Immediately when I saw my favorite pacifier I whined and made grabbie hands for it. Daddy immediately held it up for me as if to say “is this want you want?” When I nodded my head yes repeatedly, he walked over and handed it to me.
I immediately popped it in and felt the rush of relief. There’s something about a paci that just melts away the stress. I held Sharkey close and closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the nice fuzzy feeling before it disappeared.
Daddy walked back over with a little pacifier clip. He wrapped it around and clipped it to my onesie so I wouldn’t lose it.
Dada popped in with a sippy cup on his hand. He handed it to Daddy before he zipped the bag up. I looked over at Dada and notice the new outfit he was wearing. Actually, now that I’m thinking that I notice Daddy was the same way. Out of their usual at home comfy clothes and back into their stupid work clothes.
“All set?” Hotch asked Morgan.
“Yeah I’m all set. Is she all good?”
“She’s all packed up and ready to go.”
Then they both looked back to me. I just squeezed Sharky and looked away. Dada walked over and kneeled down beside me.
“I know the last thing you want to do tonight is go out. But…” he dragged the but on, “Think of this whole thing like an adventure. Going undercover with your Caregivers at the FBI. You’re our Little agent tonight.”
I lifted my head up and met his eyes. That did sound cool the way he was saying it. I put my arms out to him and made grabby hands to be held.
He never needs to be told twice. He smiled, lifting me up into his arms. “Come on baby, let’s start our adventure.”
Dada carried me to the car with Daddy right behind. In Daddy’s arms, my backpack and his brief case in the other. Daddy hoping in the drivers seat while Dada buckled me into my seat. Once he hopped into the passenger seat, we were off.
The ride to the BAU wasn’t long at all, but with the emotionally exhausting day I’ve been having, I kept nodding off the whole drive. I really only woke up when the SUV came to a stop in the underground parking garage.
Daddy came to my side of the car, helping me with my seatbelt before I hoped out. It was weird seeing the parking garage so empty. Usually it would be filled with cars. Now it had our SUV and the others cars inside of it with the rest of the spots empty.
We made our way to the elevator. “Wanna press 15 for me sweetheart?” Hotch asked. I nodded and happily pressed the button. With that the doors close and we start to go up.
Once the doors opened I immediately started to feel shy. It’s very rare that I go out regressed like this, walking around in my onesie, stuffie in my hands and my paci in my mouth.
But today was a horrible, horrible day. And there was no way I was going to be much older than I am now.
I walk closer to Dada and grab his hand. He holds onto it tightly as I walk sort of hidden behind him.
Once in the bullpen Rossi greeted us. He began briefing Morgan and Hotch on what’s going on. All the big words fly over my head as I stay hidden against Dada’s side.
After a moment he turns and looks at me, “And hello my beautiful niece! How are you doing tonight? Out on a late night adventure?” Rossi smiles.
“She’s not feeling very talkative tonight David.” Hotch explains.
“Aw! That’s no problem. Whatever is most comfortable for my favorite niece in the whole world.” His kindness starts to bring me out of my shell a bit. I turn from Dada’s side to Rossi with a small smile across my face.
“She’s your only niece.” Morgan chuckles.
“Doesn’t make her any less my favorite.” Rossi winks towards me. Again I can’t help but smile.
With my free hand I lift Sharky up to Rossi to see. “Ahh! Well if it isn’t Sharky! He scared me! I thought there was a loose shark in here! You better keep an eye on him Y/N.” He winked.
Rossi looks back up towards Morgan and Hotch and explaining what they needed to do.
Morgan looks to me and squeezes my hand before letting it go, “Alright princess I gotta go do some work. You’re going to go with Daddy, okay? I’ll see you later.”
With a pat to my back and a kiss to the top of my forehead Dada he made a move to leave. But before he could I grabbed his hand again, a whine sounding behind my pacifier.
I could feel Daddy place a hand on my shoulder as Dada turned around and took his hand from me. “I know baby, I know. I promise I’ll be back soon. You stay with Daddy.” He tried to reassure but I shake my head no.
Tears fell from my face as I watched him walk into the middle of the bullpen and take a seat at his desk. I didn’t want this! I want to be home with the two of them!
Daddy picks me up and carried me towards his office, all while rubbing my back and trying to reassure me. Looking over his shoulder I could see the whole team gathering to talk about the case.
Aunt JJ and Emily stand next to Morgan’s desk chatting with him. Not unusual. What is unusual is Spencer. I’ve never seen Spencer outside of our headspaces before. Whenever we hang out he’s regressed with me. So seeing him working and being his usual adult self was an odd shock to my system.
But soon we were in Daddy’s office with the door shutting behind him. All at once the overwhelming office became less overwhelmed with just the two of us together.
He sat his briefcase down on his desk before crossing the office and taking a seat with me on his office couch. “It’s okay. I know, it’s a long day isn’t it? And it keeps getting longer. But I’m here and Dada’s just a few feet away. We’re here.”
Daddy spends a moment reassuring and comforting me. Once my tears stop falling he coaxes me to start to color at his coffee table. “Alright, Daddy’s got to go do some work and while I do why don’t you color a picture for Dada and I? If you need anything you just come over and I’ll help you.”
With a kiss to my forehead, he picked me up and placed me on the couch. He grabs my coloring book, my crayons and my sippy cup and places them all infront of me before he heads to his desk to work.
For a little while I try not to bother him as he types away on his computer and makes phone call after phone call. But after a picture or two I get a bit antsy. I want to be by him or Dada! Not at this stupid coffee table!
So, grabbing Sharky and my weighted blanket, I make my way over to Daddy at his desk. I round the desk and pull on his sleeve.
~~~
Hotch, who can’t even remember his name at the moment with the amount of work he has, snaps out of his fog when he feels a small tug on his sleeve.
Then a small smile creeps across his face as he sees the tired Little standing infront of him, rubbing their eyes with their fist, a yawn or two escaping behind their pacifier.
“Oh, Y/N. What’s the matter sweetheart?” He asks before remembering.
He takes a moment to look them over before asking, “You wanna go to bed sweetheart?” That gets a nod. “Okay, give me a second and I’ll get the couch set up for you.”
But before he even turns back to his computer, Y/N whiles and shakes her head no. That seemed to upset her.
Hotch turns to her once again, this time confused. She wants to sleep, but not on the couch. “What’s the matter honey?” He asked concerned.
Y/N, with tired tears in her eyes, reach out to him with her stuffie and blanket in her arms. Ohhhhhhh. Finally it kicks in.
“You wanna snuggle honey? Okay. Come here, let’s bundle you up first.” Y/N holds onto her shark as Hotch leans forward and wraps her weighted blanket around her. Then he picked her up like a little burrito and sits her on his lap. Her head rest comfortably against his chest as he wraps his arms around her.
“There you go. Comfy?” He asks getting a small nod in agreement. “Alright, you go to sleep. Daddy will be right here to protect you.” Hotch adds with a kiss to her forehead for good measure.
Hotch continues on working with Y/N peacefully sleeping in his arms. Her head pressed again his chest listening to his heart beat, her paci still in her mouth and her shark stuffie held tightly inside her blankie. She’s the most relaxed she had been all day.
An hour flew by before Hotch received a knock at his door. Garcia popped her head in to ask Hotch a question but that quickly flew out the window as she got a look at how adorable Y/N was.
“Oh my gosh!!! Look at her!!” She whispered, practically dying at the sight of Y/N peacefully sleep in Hotch’s arms.
Garcia couldn’t help herself and alerted everyone to the cute sight. Soon everyone was taking a break from their work to pop into Hotch’s office and see Y/N. They all cooed and awed at the adorable Little who only cuddled closer to her Caregiver.
Morgan smirks and rolls his eyes plays fully, “Hey! When is it my turn?”
“Your chances of being president of the FBI are better than you getting Y/N from my arms.” Hotch jokes back. Now that he had the sweet sleeping Little in his arms, he was not letting her go.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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omg. Okay Imagine this.
The reader is a member of the bau and when she’s about to go out to drink with her friends she realizes she left her wallet at work. She runs back to work in her going out outfit to get her wallet and hotch sees her and can’t keep his eyes off of her…. And the others notice and tease him 🫣🤭
Aaron's stirring his fourth cup of coffee of the day (and first of the night) when you rush back through the elevator doors, the only indicators of your presence being the clicking of heels and Derek's greeting.
"Hey, pretty girl," He calls, voice booming without him even trying, "'Thought boss man let you leave early so you could have some fun, not come back here and work."
"I know," You gush with a laugh, all panting breaths that you're trying to contain through your nose as your chest heaves. The shirt you're wearing is quite a sight, hearts over each of your nipples and ribbed cuts at the sides that almost expose the very thing beneath the design. It's hugging tight to your chest, but there's a slight gap between the fabric and your stomach that means you're probably feeling a draft.
Not that Hotch is looking at your shirt.
He's also not looking at your shorts, either, that are too small for your long legs and, any other day, would be an immediate writeup.
"I forgot my wallet," You hum, frantically digging through your desk drawers that are less-than-neat, "Right... here!"
You hold the bag in your hand victoriously, raising it to the air amid the good-natured cheers of your coworkers. You giggle as they play along, thanking everyone gratuitously when they wish you well for the night.
"Alright," You hum, wallet in hand, shine in your eyes, "I'm off! Again, for good this time."
"Have fun," Rossi smiles kindly at you, "Try not to come back until Monday."
"Will do," You grin, grabbing and squeezing JJ's hand when she offers it to you, "Oh, and-"
Your head turns to rove around towards Hotch's office, brows furrowing when you notice the blinds are open, but he's not inside. It takes you a few seconds to find him in the kitchen with his coffee, but your face lights up, and Aaron's not sure he's felt his heart skip a beat in a long, long while.
"Thank you again, Hotch," You don't need to be so grateful for his leniency, because you've got enough sick days stored up to take a month in Hawaii, but you appreciate his kindness anyways.
"Anytime," He hums, raising the coffee to his lips so that you don't see the smile he fights back, "Enjoy your night, Y/N."
Neither you nor he comments on Hotch's unusual use of your first name, not your last, but you're heading back towards the elevator before either of you can think about it. From there he's beelining for his office to have some time alone to process the look in your eyes when you'd looked at him, and the sweetness oozing from your voice.
On his way Emily casts him a knowing smirk, and despite his best efforts, he can't let it slide. He slows, glancing at her out of the side of his eye, "What?"
"Nothing," She shakes her head, turning back to her work with a wry grin, "You forgot your coffee."
He stops dead in his tracks, hand indeed empty from his mindless daze, "Oh. Thank you."
When he storms back for the kitchen he hears a snicker, probably Derek's, and he makes sure to slam the door to his office shut extra hard to shut him up.
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odetojupiter · 2 months
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what if i told you that thea’s raven number - 14 - is an unlucky number because, translated, it sounds similar to ‘must die’/‘will certainly die’ in cantonese, and ‘is dead’/‘will be dead’ in mandarin.
‘her number was 14 for reasons’ - nora sakavic, aftg extra content
what if i suggested that tetsuji gave her that number specifically because he considered a black woman dominating his own sport a threat not only to himself but to his perfect court. not only is tetsuji’s misogyny pretty clear, but we all know the other ravens were killing themselves trying to be given the next perfect court number, but that was never gonna happen because even though the perfect court was actually full of the best players, it was never actually about championing the best players, it was about ownership. so what if i said that tetsuji hated that thea was as good as she was without having any ties to himself, outside of signing on to the college team he coaches. he felt undermined because he couldn’t fully credit himself for her skill, and so he gave her the 14 - on the surface, it’s an achievement to get so close to single digits for the ravens BUT it comes with a hidden threat. you will die if you go too far.
and then what if i suggested that nora also chose 14 because of the way the fandom reacted to thea. i have no idea whether she’d already picked out the number before the series was published but i don’t think it’s mentioned in the original series ?? so i mean…
yes, i’ve seen the list of issues people have with thea but what’s crazy to me is that we know literally nothing about her bar the few tidbits nora mentioned in the extra content, and the few scenes we have in the series. and i know there was probably a full backstory written for her that we never got to see bc of all the hate nora got purely for introducing her, and the subsequent reactions to literally everything we’re told about thea just makes me think that nobody actually learned anything about how people’s trauma can drastically influence how they perceive the world and how they react to things including the abuse of other people - cough. andrew and aaron cough. - her reactions to things are bound to be built off her experiences and she was literally in a cult which would completely rewire her world view so like (even what we’re told in the EC, we don’t meet her until her fifth year of edgar allan so she’s five years deep into this shit guys, and you know tetsuji was physically and mentally abusive to all the ravens u have to know that by now)—-
but anyway this post isn’t supposed to be a defence or a critique of her i just find the number 14 aligns with the way people speak about her as though she’s done something bad enough to deserve death threats, so i just hope you realise when u perpetuate that shit it’s like ur tattooing that 14 right on her face.
oh to add to that, in japanese culture the number fourteen represents imperfection, but specifically beauty found in things that are imperfect. if i say that’s a way of saying no thea isn’t perfect but that doesn’t mean she deserves to die ? what then?
bc no she’s not a perfect person and ill be the first to admit i hated that scene in tsc with jean, but are you really telling me that’s the worst thing an aftg character has ever done?? why is she being branded as the worst when she was literally in the series for like 3 pages?
and do u know what, the fact that she, post graduation, still wears her 14 is 1) a sign of pride that she really is one of the best and 2) a reminder that she is not dead yet, despite the efforts of tetsuji and the literal fandom
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c-m-stuff · 9 months
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Secret Santa
Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
-Description: You and Spencer are together. It's secret Santa time.
-Warnings: Fluffiness
-Word count: 1157
-Note: A sweet fic for the upcoming holidays. Do you guys love Christmas as much as me?🎄🎁
Masterlist
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Y/N POV:
'That was delicious, Dave.' JJ complimented the Italian man, the whole team agreeing.
'You really went all out this year.'
'Of course, I went all out. It's Christmas Eve for God's sake.' he replied, while we all laughed.
'My favorite was the wiiiiine.' Penelope giggled, as she poured herself another glass of wine, causing everyone to chuckle.
It became a tradition to all celebrate Christmas Eve at David's place. It was nice, spending time together without standing next to a dead body. Another tradition was secret Santa. The game you pull blindly a name out of a bowl to thereafter buy a Christmas present for that person. I've always loved it.
'Calm down with the wine, baby girl. We don't want a re-do of last year, when you all told us what's in the presents, before we got to actually open them.'
I giggled at Derek's statement, as I felt someone sitting on the couch next to me. Looking up, it was my genius boyfriend.
After pinning at one another for almost a year, the pretty boy himself admitted his feelings and asked me out for a date. The situation it happened wasn't the normal one, though. It was the end of a workday at the BAU, as the elevator suddenly decided to stop working. While we were in it! After panicking at first, and calling the team, we got stuck for a good hour. Which let us to admit our feelings for one another, all while curled up on the elevator floor. After that, time went on, and so did the dates. And, then there was one special moment were he asked me to be his girlfriend. I am still thankful for that elevator to stop working on that special day.
'It's secret Santa time!' David announced, and everyone went to grab their presents from under the Christmas tree, before heading to the comfortable couch.
JJ pulled Emily's name and bought her a gift card from a nice clothing shop and a tequila bottle. Emily got Aaron and decided to gift him with a black coat and a reading light for if he goes over paperwork in bed. Aaron drew Derek's name and bought him two tickets to a football game and a new tool belt for when he is renovating homes. Derek got David and gifted him new cooking equipment and a bottle of 30 years old scotch. David pulled Penelope's name and decided to gift her a pair of beautiful, pink heels and two tickets to a theater play. Penelope got JJ and presented her with a gorgeous necklace she's been talking about buying but never got around to and a mock with a text saying: "I'm a mom, what's your superpower?".
As everyone was done gifting the other their presents, they all realized Spencer and I drew each others names, considering we're the only ones left.
'Of course the two love birds got each other.' Derek commented, a grin plastered on his face. Although, it didn't went unnoticed by me when Derek winked at JJ, who was already grinning by herself. Then, it hit me that JJ was the one who was in charge of the bowl full of names.
'Okay, pretty girl, you first.' Derek said, as I gave my present to Spencer.
I watched as he carefully tore the wrapping paper off, revealing the first edition copy of the book The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury.
'No (Y/N), you did not!' he exclaimed, enthusiastic.
'How did you- Where did you-' he looked flabbergasted and guilty at the same time.
'You didn't have to, I would have been fine with a gift card from the book store. This must have costed you a fortune.'
'Ahh, not quite, genius. Well, I was last helping my grandparents with moving out. They're going to live in an apartment instead of a way too big house, like I told you. And, surprisingly, I found the book on the attic amongst some other books. I got it for free.' he kept staring at me in shock, still flabbergasted. He instantly wrapped me into a greatful hug, pressing multiple kisses on my head.
'Thank you. Thank you so much!'
'That's not all, pretty boy. Open the book.' I told him, as he did. A gift card from the bookstore revealed. Everyone laughed at the earlier mention of a gift card for books, as Spencer once again thanked me with words and a hug.
Then, he gave me a gift bag, covered with Christmas trees. I took the first thing I felt and tore off the wrapping paper. It revealed a stunning vintage camera. My eyes widened, admiring the, in my eyes, piece of art. I've always adored polaroid photos.
'I remembered you saying that you really wanted one. You wanted to capture moments like these, and that you loved the reality of the photos because you have only one shot.'
'Thank you so much! It's amazing!' I pressed him in a tight hug, before he spoke again:
'There's more, though.'
We ended the hug, as I reached for the bag and took the other present out. I was quick in ripping of the wrapping paper, seeing it was a beautiful notebook. He clearly knows my love for notebooks and this one was covered with blue butterflies. Absolutely gorgeous.
'Thank you! I love it!' once again, we shared a tight hug, as Spencer whispered something in my ear.
'That's not everything.' I pulled back and looked at him with a surprised face.
'There is more?' he nodded, gave me the most sweetest smile, and went down on one knee. I gasped, tears already forming into my eyes.
'(Y/N), you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Since the first day I met you, you were nothing but kind, you listened always to my rambling, and you made me a better person. I love you for for being you. You are beautiful, inside and outside. (Y/N), you are my future. Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?' I was still shocked and couldn't believe this was happening. My soulmate was proposing. I couldn't be more happy.
'YES! YES, I WILL!' I flew in his arms, everyone cheering and clapping.
Tears were now fully pouring out of my eyes, and it wasn't different for Spencer. My fiancé. It felt so good using that word.
'And, I can't wait for you to be my husband.'
'I can't wait for you to be my wife.' he whispered in my ear, as I did the same with him.
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otdiaftg · 10 months
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Neil antagonizes Aaron.
"Are you at all sorry?" Neil asked. "You took his family away from him." If looks could kill, the one Aaron shot Neil should have flayed the skin from his bones. "That man was not his family." "Technically, he was only a couple signatures away from being Andrew's legal brother. I didn't mean him, anyway. I meant Drake's parents, Cass and Richard Spear," Neil said. "They were going to keep Andrew. Drake was an inconvenience Andrew was willing to live with in exchange." "An inconvenience," Aaron echoed as he surged to his feet. "You fucking—" "And now Drake is dead," Neil said. "Do you think Cass will ever forgive Andrew? It doesn't matter what Drake did to him. She won't be able to look at Andrew without knowing her son is dead because of him." "I don't care." Aaron gave a savage jerk of his hand. "I don't care if Andrew never speaks to me again. I don't care about Cass or Drake or anyone. What Drake did—no. If I could bring him back from the dead and kill him again I would." "Good," Neil said quietly. "So now you understand why Andrew killed your mother." It was not at all what Aaron was expecting. He was so angry it took a couple seconds for the words to really register, and then he recoiled from Neil. "Why he—what? That isn't the same. He didn't do that for me." "He told me he did," Neil said. "I didn't even have to ask him. He warned her to stop hitting you and she wouldn't. He had no choice but to get rid of her. Just like last night, right? Drake was hurting Andrew, and you made him stop. Except I lied," Neil said, getting to his feet. "Unlike you, he's not angry that you interfered. I just said that because I needed you to understand." "You don't know anything," Aaron said. "I know you've got a couple weeks to think about it," Neil said. "When Andrew comes back sober you're going to have to talk about this. You won't get anywhere if you start with Drake, so you might as well start with your mother. Now let's get out of this city.”
Day: Monday, November 13th Time: 3:40 PM EST
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
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I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers
too married
happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333
"it's disheartening, isn't it?"
aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"
"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.
no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"
"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."
"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.
your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.
truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.
but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.
you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.
sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.
and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.
"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.
you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."
a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.
but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.
"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.
his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.
"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"
maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.
you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.
not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.
"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.
aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."
you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"
"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."
"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"
"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."
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zvdvdlvr · 7 months
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— We Regret to Inform You…
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— 🧠. Synopsis. Aaron is delivered news that shatters his world. (part one of ‘Home’)
— 🧠. Warnings. Death. Sadness. No happy ending. Guilt, depression. Bargaining, anger, resentment, and acceptance. All emotions used to describe the death of a loved one- all words Hotch would normally suggest for a grieving family. 
But it’s different when you’re the family. 
Deep down in his gut, Aaron knew something was wrong. Even before he opened the door. He knew something had happened. Is this how victims’ families feel when Hotch is the one knocking on their door? It had to be, he thought. 
“Can I help you?” Aaron asked, observing the men in uniform standing rigid on his porch. 
“Sir, we regret to inform you that your wife Lieutenant Commander y/n m/n l/n-Hotchner has been presumed killed in action,” the man on the right stated. 
Aaron felt the world around his shift, tilting under his feet. “How-“ he started to say, his own emotion smothering his throat and muffling the words he wanted so say. 
But he fell silent. He didn’t listen as the men in front of him spoke. He didn’t hear anything they said as they tucked y/n’s dog tags into his hand, and a folded flag in the other. He didn’t register them quietly murmur an “I’m sorry for your loss, Agent” before they left. He didn’t even realize he had started crying until he watched his tears fall off his face. 
“Oh, honey,” he cried, carefully resting your personal effects on the table as he slowly sank into the chair. Thank God Jack was at Jessica’s house for the next few days; that hopefully gave Aaron the time to figure out what to tell Jack. 
How was Aaron supposed to tell his little boy that his mom died- again?! How was Aaron supposed to deal with Jack asking about his mom before he even knew what had happened to her? How was Aaron supposed to keep living with that folded American flag in his house and your dog tags around his neck? How was he supposed to keep going on without the love of his life? 
But he also knew he had to be the one to tell the team. You were as close to them as you were your own family: perhaps even closer. 
Aaron cried. He sobbed, wailed, even. His crying echoed in the empty house- no longer a home now that the heart of the home was dead and halfway around the world. 
Good God, how could he plan the funeral if there was no body? Did- would you have wanted a funeral anyway? Aaron felt himself break down a little more: he couldn’t live without you. 
But now that you were dead, he had to.
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strawbeerossi · 11 months
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Tiny Dancer
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: After Spencer meets you while you are on an undercover mission, it isn’t long until you two get to know each other. After your first date together, you give him a few lessons.
Content/Warnings: Awkward Spencer, strip club, minor case matter, lap dancing, cumming in pants.
Word Count: 2.8K
Kinktober Day Nineteen: Lingerie
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
This is my least favorite fic. I apologize in advance.
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“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked, gazing at the front of the strip club where Aaron was smoothening out his suit jacket and glancing at her and Spence.. “One million percent. Don’t get too distracted here. I have a friend who is in sex crimes working undercover to catch someone who is taking advantage of strippers and call girls. She agreed to meet us but you have to be prepared for the way she’s going to talk to us. It’s not going to be a traditional interview.”
The two agents looked between each other in confusion. What did he mean by that? Regardless, they both walked inside the not too busy club. This was a more upscale place, one of the strip clubs that kept the high paying men of the city anonymous, able to enjoy the likes of a the establishment without someone going back and telling wives, girlfriends, or employers. The safety due to the membership only status worked out in their favor, only having to flash their badges and mentioning they needed to scope out the place before they were let inside.
Once in the dimly lit building, Aaron’s gaze was scanning the room before his eyes landed just on the undercover agent they were looking for. You had gotten the hint he was here to see you, so you were moving away from the man you were currently talking to before twirling your hair around your finger. “Hi sweetheart. Looking for a dance today?” You asked sweetly, glancing back at the other agents who were waiting as well.
“Yes. My friends and I woulda actually like to ask for a private dance. Is that something we could do?” Your gaze lingered on one particular agent; Spencer Reid. He was a living legend around the FBI due to his intellect, of course you’d heard about him around the office. “I charge extra for groups.” You added soon after, which you were leading the three agents back to the safety of the private room while you closed the door. “I really wish you would text me before you do something like this.” You scolded Aaron while holding a hand out to take the money he was getting out of his wallet. The cameras in the room made it hard to have a normal conversation, you having to play along to the private dance fantasy.
After pushing the bills into the babydoll lingerie top, you were going to the pole in the middle of the room. “I know. However this is an emergency that I didn’t plan for. One of our victims worked here. Her name was Amanda Raymond. What can you tell us about her?” Aaron stated as if there wasn’t a half naked woman in the room that had Spencer’s face bright red and Emily practically drooling at the sight.
“Mandy?” You asked, smile faltering hearing about how your missing friend was in fact dead. “She was a sweet girl. I mean, she worked damn near every night to support her son.” Your leg hooked around the pole as you did a spin around it, ultimately moving away. “She hasn’t left with anyone that I know of. I mean she had some sketchy regulars but I can get you their information,” You shrugged, moving to straddle Emily’s lap while laughing at her reaction. “Prentiss, stay focused.” You’d teased, smiling as you could feel her soft hands against your hips as she cleared her throat.
“Right, sorry. Anyone in particular that you have both serviced?” She asked, unable to help her gaze over your exposed body. How was she gonna look you in the eye around the office after this?!
“There’s Michael Lewis. He’s actually a deputy on the police force. He’s really violent. He’s left bruises on my arms and hips before whenever security couldn’t get here fast enough.” You’d answered, thinking it over. “And Trevor Brown, a college professor who likes to try and take every dancer home,” You responded, laughing a bit as the raven haired woman was pushing a twenty in your lingerie top before you were moving to Spencer.
He looked like he was gonna pass out the minute you were bending down in front of him, continuing on with your dance routine as you let your hips play with some rock song playing over the speakers of the private room. “Y-you-“ Spencer was bright red, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clutched the arm of the leather sofa. The outfit left very little to the imagination. “I’m sorry.” He squeaked while his eyes were diverting their gaze from your ass perched in his face. “You said that they’ve t-touched you, I can assume it was insitent?” Spencer asked, his own hands itching to touch your soft skin. “Yeah. They weren’t very kind and they were pushy. I’m sure you’ve seen the type on the field. I’m just sure they don’t grab you the way they’ve grabbed me.”
You turned to face Spencer again as your arms loosely draped around his shoulder, your tantalizing hips having Spencer drunk in the moment. The genius would think you were doing this on purpose, almost as if you enjoyed the act of teasing him and rendering him speechless. He had to admit that he was definitely a fan. He just wished his boss and coworker wasn’t with him, this interview would’ve gone just a tad different. “I can give you their information. I’ve had them leave their numbers and some business cards as if I would ever talk to them outside of this job.” You added, your dance coming to an end anyway as you were heading to a stack of cards and such.
The girls had gotten used to tossing any kind of numbers or other things on one of the tables in the room. Sifting through the numbers, you were smiling whenever you came across the two cards. “I really do think they should be watched closely.” You spoke while handing a card to Aaron. Now you were going to tease Spencer more, putting the card between your teeth before heading over to bend in front of him once more, leaning in close so he could retrieve the card.
Due to his germaphobia, he definitely wasn’t taking into his mouth, however he slowly took the car as his honey colored eyes were overshadowed by lust and embarrassment from seeing how much of an effect you had on him. “You three get out of here safely. Don’t call too much attention to yourselves. I’m not saying there is anyone here who could hurt you at the moment but.. Feds around here would terrify the mass amounts of customers who are trying to stay on the downlow.”
The three agents were getting up from the couch as they had gotten all the intel they needed. “Alright. You three keep your heads down.” You spoke while walking them over to open the door. There were a few moments where Spencer was stopped, his gaze on you. “Got a business card you wanna add to our table?” You couldn’t help but tease him, a smirk on your face. “What if I uh..” He was awkwardly reaching in his pocket, getting out a card with his number in it before he caught you off guard, slipping the card into your cleavage. The bold move was overshadowed by his embarrassed little blush, a shaky laugh leaving his lips. “Please don’t put it on the table. I’d rather have you contact me directly.” He said softly, only glancing back when he could hear Emily calling his name. “We gotta go but.. Call me?”
“You got it, Dr. Reid. Go save some lives.” You grinned, waving him off as you were walking out of the private room again to get right back to your post.
After that, the BAU did what they did best. They caught the man on a murderous rampage against sex workers, his view of them as being dirty and deserving the release of death to forgive them of their sins. Which you never understood but hey, you weren’t a psychopath so it made sense why you didn’t understand.
You’d been texting Spencer throughout the week, mostly just small talk while his awkwardness and shyness translated to messages as well. You found it endearing. He was a charming man who did have a small confidence issue but you were happy to tell him just how attractive he was and help the best you can to boost that confidence without making his ego inflating too much. You’d both agreed to meet up for coffee on a Sunday morning, the both of you meeting at a small cafe in DC.
“I’m glad you came. I was nervous you wouldn’t.” Spencer admitted as you were sitting at one of the outdoor tables with him, a smile on your face as you sipped from the cup in your hand. “Why wouldn’t I come? I’ve liked talking to you! It’s been an honor to get to know you, honestly. I mean, you’re very well known around the FBI as a whole so actually meeting you is nice rather than just hearing about you.”
The words had him blushing, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m just not used to asking anyone out. Which I mean, if you don’t want this to be considered that I understand.” He spoke while you were letting one hand gently pat his hand resting against the table.
“Well. You did a great job asking me! I also have to say that I don’t want this to end early. How about we go back to my apartment? I know how much you love Doctor Who and I have the whole classic series! I like the earliest seasons but I am willing to watch what you want.” You added with a smile, Spencer not daring to turn it down as you were pushing themselves to stand. Thankfully, the walk to your apartment wasn’t too long considering you lived only a couple blocks away from the cafe. After leading Spencer upstairs and unlocking the wooden door, he broke the threshold and headed inside right behind you, his hand moving to gently close the door behind you both. “You have a really nice place.” He’d commented.
It smelled like vanilla, the atmosphere being welcoming and so inviting that he had no problem towing off his shoes at the doorway before making himself comfortable as you were going for the case that held all the classic films and shows you had taken a liking to. “Here we go. Should we start with season one?” You asked, although you both didn’t share any confirmation as you were popping the disk in. After getting the remote, you were hurrying to leap onto the couch beside Spencer, the both of you laughing as you were crossing your legs to get comfortable.
The binge-watching had gone pretty standard, your body leaning comfortably against Spencer’s while your cheek was against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Despite his dislike for most human contact, he had to admit that he liked sitting like this with you. It helped that your body was warm against his. The contact was oddly intimate — At least to Spencer.
It was well established in the past that this guy doesn’t know how to go slow. So as you were so engrossed in the first season of your show, he was too busy thinking of the future opportunities of you both sitting on the couch like this and enjoying each other’s presence. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice finally spoke up as he glanced at you, your head lifting from his shoulder. “Yeah. Go ahead!” You offered a smile. “How long have you been doing undercover work at the uh.. You know.” He asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“Well. I was just assigned to do it. I took pole dancing classes in college with a few friends. It’s actually a really good workout and I enjoy doing it. I just wish it wasn’t in front of a crowd.”
You answered honestly. It wasn’t something that you ever pictured yourself doing, however you were happy to catch sick fuckers that occupied the place. “Wait. They have classes?” The male asked, the hobby piquing his intrigue in the subject. “Yes! Why, want me to give you a lesson?” You joked while offering a smile. “I can teach you how to do a lap dance. I’ve already given you one so I don’t think it’ll be awkward. Right?”
Hell no it would not.
“I don’t- I don’t think so!” His voice squeaked as you were moving to stand with a smile. “Perfect! Don’t worry, you can touch me this time. No need to be freaked out.” You teased, hand retrieving the tv remote to get the screen turned off. You had moved to playfully toss your hair around, acting as if you had to gussy yourself up for the part. “Let me put on a costume. I feel like I need to do this perfectly.”
Which you disappeared for ten minutes, finding a silk purple negligee with lace stockings. You may have been overembellishing just a tad, however you wouldn’t mind Spencer putting his hands on you in any way he chose. Whenever you were coming back to the living room, your hands were on your hips as you sauntered to the couch. When the male’s eyes fell on you, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a turn while grinning. “I was gonna put on some heels but I felt like that would be overkill.”
“I think you look stunning.”
“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, Dr. Reid.” You smirked, hand retrieving your phone as you were searching for a suitable song for the occasion.
As you’d landed on an old school rock song, it wasn’t long until you were dragging your hands up your body, watching as the agent in front of you was giving you his full divided attention. As you walked around the couch, your hands were sliding down his chest from behind him. The mere touch had his cock springing to life in his pants, especially when you ran them up his chest and rested a hand under his chin before making his head tilt up to look at you.
After lingering contact and leaning down to press a kiss to his left cheek, you were walking back in front of him again while bending. Your hands were against his knees while you lowered yourself, the angle making your cleavage nearly spill from the silky top of the ensemble and catching his attention. As your touch dragged up his thighs, you couldn’t help but grin at the way his body reacted to the touch. It was like he was so desperate to be touched and he hadn’t had any sort of intimacy like this in a while. Your hands squeezed his inner thighs before you were straddling his lap.
With your hands against his shoulders, you were humming along with the music as your hips rolled down into Spencer’s, the friction against his clothed cock being heavenly. His large hands were quickly moving to your hips, his mouth agape as he watched the intoxicating movements of your hips.
He could remember being jealous of Emily when they talked to you, the way you put on a show for her and gave Spencer hardly anything. This was a hell of a way to make it up to him though. While your hips gyrated against his lap, he was letting his head tilt back against the sofa while letting out a gentle whine. Your movements were overwhelming, hips rocking to stimulate riding his cock so good that it could nearly be considered the real thing.
By the end of the song though, Spencer could feel arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating fast, face red as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead from how hot he felt in these fucking clothes. What happened next was out of his control, the friction of your hips rubbing him just right as his hands squeezed your hips, a whine of your name slipping out before he could feel his cock twitch in his underwear. The arousal snuck up on him, unable to hold back as he soiled his underwear with cum. You knew all too well what had happened, your hips slowing down as you looked at him with wide eyes.
“Did you just..” You began, blushing as the male was quickly looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I can’t- I didn’t mean-“ Your hand was what cut him off as it rested gently over his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize.” You said softly while laughing some. “I’m flattered! But I think that we should probably get you cleaned up, don’t you think?”
Spencer didn’t catch on at first, not until your hands were on the button or his slacks. “Y-yeah.” He spoke shyly, lifting his lips in order to help you tug the bottoms down his legs.
“Good boy.”
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