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reidmarieprentiss · 19 days

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Better Late Than Never

Summary: You and Spencer are best friends, but then you get put into witness protection. Will your friendship (and love) survive the years apart?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Warnings/Includes: hackers, insecurity, being in witness protection

Word count: 3.2k

a/n: if he doesn't wait for you like this then he isn't worth it tbhhhhh (i can't talk i make horrible dating choices)

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Spencer Reid's first few days at the BAU were overwhelming, to say the least. He had already endured the skepticism of his new colleagues, felt the weight of the cases on his young shoulders, and faced the quiet stares that seemed to ask how someone so young could be trusted with something so important. It was in the midst of this uncertainty that he found a lifeline in you, someone who not only treated him as an equal but made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

You had been with the BAU long enough to know how intimidating it could be to start fresh. Spencer’s brilliance was evident from the start, but so was his anxiety. His nervous, rapid-fire explanations of cases, his reluctance to make eye contact, and the way his hands would tremble slightly when he first met Hotch and Gideon. It didn’t take long for you to notice how uncomfortable he was.

On the third day, when he had already poured over files for hours and the rest of the team had gone for lunch, you saw him sitting at his desk, too focused—or too nervous—to step away. You didn’t ask him to join you for lunch. You just brought a sandwich and sat down across from him, setting it on his desk without a word.

Spencer looked up, startled, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “I—uh—I didn’t ask for—”

“I know,” you cut him off gently, smiling. “But I figured you might need it anyway.”

He blinked a few times, taken aback, and then nodded, his gratitude hidden behind his usual quiet demeanor. “Thanks,” he mumbled, already returning to the files in front of him.

From that moment on, you became the one constant in his chaotic world. The two of you worked on cases together, shared late-night dinners after grueling fieldwork, and sometimes just sat in comfortable silence when Spencer was overwhelmed and needed a break. You never pushed him to open up, knowing that he would come to you when he was ready.

It wasn’t long before he started relying on you for everything. Whether it was asking for help with an obscure task he had trouble with in the middle of a case or just quietly sitting next to you when the weight of the job felt too heavy. You were his anchor in the storm, someone who made the BAU feel less intimidating, less isolating.

One night, after a particularly tough case, Spencer leaned on your desk, his expression tired and pensive. You gestured for him to talk without a word, pushing aside the report you were working on. He didn’t speak right away, just sat down like he had so many times before.

“I feel like I don’t belong here sometimes,” he finally admitted, his voice low. He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his lap. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to keep up with everyone else.”

You leaned forward, catching his gaze. “You’re already keeping up, Spencer. You’re more than capable. You’re brilliant.”

He smiled faintly but didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“And for what it’s worth,” you continued, “you belong here just as much as anyone else. You’re a part of this team now, and we’ve all got your back. I’ve got your back.”

That seemed to resonate with him. Spencer exhaled slowly, nodding as if trying to let your words sink in. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The depth of his gratitude hung in the air between you, and though neither of you said it outright, there was an understanding that you had become more than just colleagues. Spencer had found a sense of home in you, a place where he didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to prove his worth. He could just be.

From that night on, your bond only grew stronger. You became the person he turned to when he needed to vent about cases, share his excitement over obscure facts, or simply take a break from the pressure of the job. And in return, you found comfort in knowing that you were the one person Spencer trusted completely.

Late-night phone calls became a regular occurrence—sometimes it was work-related, other times it was just Spencer calling to talk about something random, like the history of chess or the nuances of a particular poem he’d been reading. He’d share these little pieces of himself with you, and you’d listen with unwavering patience, no matter the hour.

One evening, after another case closed, you found yourself sitting on the floor of the bullpen, legs tucked under you as Spencer sat next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. He was uncharacteristically quiet, though the comfortable silence wasn’t new between you.

“Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you didn’t join the BAU?” Spencer asked suddenly, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the question. “Sometimes,” you admitted softly. “But honestly, I can’t imagine it any other way now. And I’m glad it turned out like this.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Me too,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as… at home as I do with you.”

—

The day everything changed began like any other—ordinary, filled with the hum of work, the shuffle of case files, and the comforting presence of your team. But it didn’t take long for that sense of normalcy to shatter.

You had been in danger before. In the BAU, it came with the territory, and you'd faced it head-on more times than you cared to count. But this was different. It was personal. A hacker, targeting you specifically, breached the walls of your life, exposing every facet of who you were to the world—your address, your personal emails, your medical history, even your family. Every private detail had been thrust into the public eye. Spencer had been the first to see the news reports, his heart dropping into his stomach as the headlines flashed across every screen in the bullpen.

"BAU Agent’s Life Leaked to the World," the words blared out. It wasn’t just your job at the FBI that was exposed—it was everything. Things no one but you knew. The fallout was immediate. Your life was suddenly on display for anyone with a computer screen, and that meant you were no longer safe. Witness protection was the only option.

The team scrambled to help, and Spencer, in particular, was beside himself with worry. He was the one who tried to reassure you as the reality set in, even as his own fear crept up on him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you. The idea of you disappearing, of your presence vanishing from his life, was unimaginable.

"Spencer, I have to go," you had whispered, your voice shaking as you stood in the bureau, knowing it was only a matter of minutes before you were escorted away.

He was pacing, his hand tugging at his hair in frustration. “This isn’t fair,” he said, his voice tight. “This isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to leave because of this.”

You watched him, heart breaking at the sight of his anguish, knowing there was nothing you could do. “I don’t have a choice.”

His steps faltered, and he turned to face you, his eyes filled with desperation. “But what if I never see you again? What if… what if something happens and I can’t find you?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you. “You won’t,” you said quietly, your throat tightening with emotion. “I can’t contact anyone. It’s safer that way.”

Spencer stared at you as though trying to memorize every detail of your face. “I could go with you,” he whispered. “We could go away together right? They might—”

You didn’t let him finish. You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a fierce embrace, burying your face in his chest. He held onto you like you were his lifeline, his arms trembling as they circled around you. The two of you stood there for a long time, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your breathing and the distant noise of the bustling bullpen.

“I’m going to miss you,” you finally said, your voice barely audible against his shirt.

Spencer pressed his cheek against the top of your head, his breath uneven. “I’ll miss you too. More than you know.”

But even those words felt inadequate. What could he say? How could he capture the magnitude of what you meant to him in that moment? There was nothing. So he just held you tighter, his fingers curling into the fabric of your jacket, refusing to let go until the last possible second.

When you were finally pulled away, Spencer watched as you were taken out of the BAU for the last time. He stood there, helpless, unable to do anything but watch you leave, knowing that your absence would echo in every corner of his life from that day forward.

—

The next years crawled by in slow, painful increments. At first, Spencer clung to the hope that he might somehow find a way to track you down, but witness protection was thorough. You had vanished without a trace, and the team was under strict orders not to make any attempts to contact you. Any breach could put your safety at risk, and Spencer couldn’t do that to you, no matter how much he missed you.

He threw himself into his work, burying the ache of your absence beneath the mountains of cases that piled up. He kept a photo of the two of you in his desk drawer, a quiet reminder of the life you once shared, the bond that had defined his early years at the BAU. He would pull it out on the hardest days, staring at it as if willing you to walk through the door.

He missed everything about you—your laugh, your calming presence, the way you always seemed to know exactly what he needed without him having to ask. You had been his best friend, his person, and without you, everything felt just a little colder, a little emptier.

The team noticed, of course. They saw the way Spencer had changed after you left, the way he became more withdrawn, more guarded. But none of them could bring you back, and so they let him grieve in his own way, respecting the silence that surrounded your name.

And of course, it wasn't until you were no longer around that Spencer realized his love for you ran deeper than platonic. It hit him in the quiet moments—the ones where he’d instinctively reach for his phone to text you, only to remember you were gone, or when he’d hear a joke that would’ve made you laugh, and his heart would ache with the weight of your absence.

He struggled with this realization, the gnawing knowledge that he had lost something precious before he ever fully understood what it meant to him. There was nothing he could do now. You were gone, out of his reach in a way that felt so final. He couldn’t tell you, couldn’t whisper the words he had only just found within himself, couldn’t hold you close and say what he should have said long ago.

All he could do was hold onto the memories, the moments when you were his constant, and wonder what might have been if he had realized sooner.

—

It was a Wednesday, just like any other. The BAU was humming with the usual buzz of casework, papers rustling, phones ringing, and agents talking quietly amongst themselves. Spencer sat at his desk, flipping through files, his mind half-occupied with the details of an ongoing case, when the door to the bullpen creaked open.

He didn’t look up at first, too immersed in his thoughts. But then, a familiar voice, one he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime, cut through the air. He froze. His heart stopped. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the papers in his hands and looked toward the entrance.

It was you.

There you stood, looking just as you had all those years ago, but somehow different. The years had changed you in subtle ways, but your presence, the way you carried yourself—it was unmistakable. Spencer felt like his entire world had been thrown off its axis, spinning in a way that left him breathless.

For a moment, he didn’t know if he was dreaming. His heart pounded in his chest, his palms dampening as his mind raced to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. After years of silence, of wondering where you were, how you were—if you were safe—you were suddenly there, standing in the middle of the BAU like no time had passed at all.

You smiled, a tentative, cautious smile as you stepped further into the room. “Hey,” you said softly, almost as if testing the waters. “I’m back.”

Spencer stood abruptly, the file slipping from his hands and scattering papers across the floor. He didn’t care. All he could see was you. His voice failed him for a moment, his body torn between rushing to you and staying rooted in disbelief.

“You’re… back,” he finally stammered, blinking as if you might disappear if he looked away for too long.

You nodded, stepping closer. “I want to get back into my normal life, or whatever that is now. I don’t even know what normal looks like anymore.”

Normal. The word didn’t seem to apply to the way Spencer was feeling. There was nothing normal about this moment. After years of grieving your absence, of thinking he’d never see you again, of realizing too late how deeply he loved you—here you were. And he didn’t want to waste another second.

In a sudden, impulsive rush, Spencer crossed the room toward you, his heart hammering against his ribs. Without thinking, without any semblance of a plan, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Marry me.”

You blinked, your smile faltering for a moment as your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Marry me,” Spencer repeated, his voice stronger this time, filled with a hint of desperation and determination. “I should have told you years ago. I should have done something, said something—anything—before you had to leave. I was in love with you back then, and seeing you now? I still am.”

Your lips parted in surprise, a laugh escaping you, not out of malice, but sheer disbelief. “Spencer… are you serious?” You chuckled nervously, shaking your head as if to clear the fog of confusion. “You can’t—this has to be a joke.”

But Spencer wasn’t laughing. His eyes were wide, earnest, his heart laid bare in front of you. “I’m not joking,” he said softly, stepping even closer until he was standing just inches from you. “I’ve spent years regretting not telling you how I felt. I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in, but it felt surreal. A million emotions swirled in your chest, and you let out another shaky laugh, trying to find your footing in the whirlwind of his sudden proposal. “Spencer, I—I just got back. I’m still figuring out how to… exist in my own life again.”

“I know,” he said, his voice gentle but unwavering. “And I don’t want to rush you. I just… I had to say it. I had to let you know. I don’t want to miss out on what we could have. I love you.”

Your laughter faded as you saw the raw vulnerability in his eyes, and it struck you that he really was serious. You didn’t know what to say. All those years apart, all the changes in your life, and now Spencer was standing in front of you, asking you to marry him as if no time had passed.

A part of you wanted to laugh it off again, to brush it aside as a product of the intensity of the moment. But another part of you, the part that had missed him just as much, felt the familiar warmth in his words, the truth in his gaze.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of uncertainty. “I… I need time. I can’t just—”

He nodded quickly, cutting you off before you could finish. “I understand. I do. I just needed you to know. I don’t want to scare you off. Take all the time you need.” His expression softened, his hand hovering just shy of yours. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

You smiled faintly, your heart a confusing mess of emotions. Spencer was something you thought about countless times over the years, getting back to him and being with him. But you never imagined he felt the same, and now that you were faced with the reality that he did, the gravity of his words hit you hard.

Spencer nodded slowly, his heart still racing but his mind catching up with the reality of what he had just done. As he turned to head back to his desk, hoping to salvage at least a little bit of his pride, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Spencer?” you called softly.

He turned back to face you, his expression still holding anxiety and hope. Your lips curled into a gentle smile, your eyes soft as you looked at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” you said, the words slipping out with such ease that they caught Spencer completely off guard.

His entire face lit up, his eyes widening as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What?” he breathed, his voice full of disbelief and cautious excitement.

You nodded, a slight blush rising to your cheeks. “Mhm. I love you too. But…” you bit your lip, your smile turning a little playful. “Maybe we should go on a date before we walk down the aisle, yeah?”

For a moment, Spencer stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as if the world had suddenly righted itself after years of being off balance. He blinked, trying to process what you had just said, and then a wide, genuine grin spread across his face.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, his voice filled with relief and a newfound joy. “Yeah, a date. That… that sounds like a good place to start.”

You laughed softly, your heart warming at the sight of his happiness. “We’ve got time,” you assured him. “No need to rush things.”

Spencer nodded eagerly, his mind already racing through every possible date idea, every opportunity he had missed in the years you were gone. But now? Now he had a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

As the two of you stood there, the tension between you easing into something lighter, more hopeful, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He had waited years to hear those words, and now that he had, he knew he wasn’t going to let you go again.

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he said, still beaming, unable to contain his excitement.

You grinned, shaking your head affectionately. “I’ll be ready.”

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deanscherrypie420 · 3 months

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫

A/N: Hi! This was third most requested on the poll! I hope you guys enjoy, it took me forever to think of a story OMG!

Characters: BAU Team, Reader Y/N

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Reader

Warnings: Soft!Dom Aaron, description of crime scenes, antagonizing, sensitive neck area, implied smut but no actual, teasing, lots of kissing towards the end, pretty cute ending, praise kink, spitting (spits into her mouth once), getting interrupted (they were just kissing, don't worry), (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: After getting on your new boss's bad-side, you face his irritation throughout your case. When you get back, however, it seems he's a better profiler than you thought.

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It was her first official day at the Bureau. She had been training alongside a different team for a few weeks before being sent to work with the BAU.

When she entered the conference room, she was greeted by a woman in a dashingly bright outfit. "Hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, technical analyst for the BAU. You're the new agent, right?"

Y/N nodded and shook her hand, a faint smile on her lips. "Hi, yeah. I'm Y/N Y/L/N." She stated simply, pulling out a chair to sit down. Penelope stepped out of the room for a moment, calling the rest of the team in.

One by one, they all piled in. Two other women came to shake her hand and she declined, passing it off with a joke. They didn't seem to mind, sitting down beside her and engaging in small talk.

The last person to come in was an older man dressed in a nice suit, clean cut black hair and dark brown eyes. She perked up, recognizing him immediately.

SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit chief.

"Y/L/N, good to finally meet you. We've heard great things." He complimented, reaching out to shake her hand. She gave a sharp smile, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Thanks, unfortunately I can't say the same about you." She set her hand on top of his, gently pushing it down to decline his offer. He noticeably stiffened, and the room filled with tension. "Excuse me?" He questioned, brows knitted tight together.

"I mean, you're practically a rogue agent. You're constantly under the microscope," She shook her head with a quiet laugh, "And from what I hear, you've always been off the rails, even with a stick up your ass."

Before Aaron could respond, Garcia interrupted, getting into the grimy details of a murder in Colorado. After the brief, everyone exited the room, leaving Y/N and Hotchner in the room alone.

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, squeezing tight as he leaned in behind her. "I advise you to stay in your lane. Keep that dirty little mouth of yours shut." He whispered in her ear.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, heat rising to her cheeks. He patted her on the back before stepping out, returning to his office to collect his to-go bag.

She stood up and grabbed her bag from beneath her, already prepared for her first day. When she made it to the jet, she claimed a seat next to the blonde woman, who she vaguely remembered as Jennifer.

"Rogue agent, huh?" The older man in front of her asked. She studied him, his fingers in a triangle shape resting on the table, grey hair blooming within his black strands.

She grinned and nodded, leaning back into her chair. "I can't repeat what I've heard?" She prodded, tapping her foot on the ground. She knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but she didn't care.

As if he read her mind, he hunched forward and reciprocated her smirk. "Not if you want to last longer than day one. You may have heard some interesting things about Aaron, but I'm sure you've also heard that he doesn't take bullshit from anyone. Especially not from beginners."

She swallowed hard, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She tried to think of a witty response, something to drag her out of the pit she was in. Her brain paused when the same hand from before ruffled her hair, a stiff smile on Aaron's face. "I'm sure it was a mistake on her part. Right, Y/N?"

She nearly choked, reaching up to fix her hair. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." She croaked out, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Rossi just shook his head and 'tsked' in disapproval.

After another quick conversation about the case, Aaron paired everyone up. "Morgan, JJ, you check out the body. Rossi, Prentiss and Reid, set up with local PD."

After not addressing her, she raised a brow. She turned to face him, an annoyed look on her features. "What about me?" She questioned, and he gave her a smug grin.

"You're with me. We'll examine the crime scene." Was all he said, turning his attention back to the file. She slumped in her chair, glaring at Morgan when she heard him chuckle.

Dammit.

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"So what do you see?" He quizzed her, motioning towards the crimson stained kitchen. She studied it for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek as she thought.

"Rage fueled kill. Blood painted on the walls, clearly over-kill. He doesn't like authority figures, this is the third he's killed this week." She explained and he scoffed.

"You aren't projecting, are you?" He asked her, and she froze. "What do you mean?" Her fists balled up, biting her lip to withhold any rude remarks she might let slip.

"You have issues with figures of authority. You tried to embarrass me in front of my team, and the whole drive here you ignored everything I've had to tell you." He stepped closer to her, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"If I had to guess I'd assume parental issues. You have a sharp tongue, a defense mechanism to keep people at arms reach. Should I keep going?" He had a stern, yet calm look in his eyes. She bit her cheek and pondered, unsure how to respond.

"You're uncomfortable." He noted and she raised a brow. "Am not. You're not as intimidating as you think, Aaron." She snapped back, and he stepped even closer, his face mere inches away.

"I didn't say intimidated, but thank you for letting me know that's how I make you feel." He smiled down at her, making her stomach churn. She turned on her heel and hurried out, slamming the front door behind her.

He chuckled and shook his head, walking out behind her. "Where are you going?" He asked and she crossed her arms, stopping at the end of the road. "Away from you." She muttered and he stopped a few feet in front of her.

"You're acting like a child. Get in the car, now." She huffed and brushed past him, ramming her shoulder into his as she went. He had to hold back from grabbing her and slamming her onto the car.

She slid into the passenger seat, throwing her feet up on the dash and sinking her teeth into their spot in her cheek. Aaron got into the driver seat and stared at her.

"I understand this is your way of defiance, but it's not amusing. Legs down." He ordered and she unwillingly obeyed. "Sorry." She spat, sarcasm creeping in her tone.

"Being a brat isn't gonna work for you, not with me at least." He warned her and she barely nodded, glancing over at him. She didn't know why, but she kind of liked it when he talked to her like this.

However, she couldn't help but want the softer side of him too. He felt her staring as he drove to the local police department, finding it cute when he looked at he and she turned away.

"You're a lot more shy than I expected." He told her, making her look away again. "Pardon?" She croaked, heat rushing up her neck. He set his hand down on her knee and his thumb rubbed circles against it.

"Nothing, just keep your act together."

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After the case, Y/N was waiting in Aarons office. They had tension all throughout the trip, getting her in trouble and now having to have a mandatory "behavioral conversation."

When he entered the office, he closed the door quietly and turned to face her. His face was stone cold, unreadable and harsh. She bit her lip and fidgeted in her lap, picking at her nailbeds.

He sat down in front of her and cleared his throat. "Is this what you wanted?" He questioned her, catching her off guard. "I don't understand?" She responded, her tone rising at the end a bit too high for her liking.

"I'm a profiler, Y/N. It's my job to study behavior. What did you think you would get by throwing tantrums?" His words made her squirm, understanding what he was referring to.

She didn't respond, looking down at her legs and trying not to drown in humiliation. He chuckled and stood up, making his way behind her. He slowly started to knead her shoulders, earning a quiet gasp from her lips.

"I know, Sweetheart. You just want to be a good girl, yeah?" He cooed, adding more pressure and making her moan. She nodded and squeezed her thighs together. "Th-this is inappropriate." She mumbled between quiet groans and he smiled down at her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"You don't seem to care about what's appropriate or not, don't start pretending now." He whispered and she melted, her hands clawing at her knees.

His thumbs pressed into her neck, pressing nerves within and making her recoil, an unexpected moan bellowing out of her. He quirked a brow and raised one of his hands around the back of her neck.

"Well, that was interesting." He remarked before squeezing down on the pressure points, forcing her to curl up, such an intense reaction from such a little gesture.

Incoherent whimpers and whines escaped her lips, her hand buried between thighs as she tried to gain friction. He chuckled and shook his head. "Needy girl."

He jerked her head back, forcing another moan out of her. Her mouth hung open, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. He loomed over her, spitting into her mouth.

He took his hand away from her neck and spun her chair around, crouching down in front of her with a small smile. "Swallow, pretty girl."

She obeyed, nodding mindlessly as she did. He kissed the top of her knee and then stood up, gesturing for her to do the same. He cupped her cheek and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Go to your office, get all your paperwork done, and then come meet me back here." He looked so comforting, and he felt that way too. "Okay.. I can do that." She spoke barely above a whisper, still flustered from the situation.

He smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. She wanted more, but didn't say anything, just carefully pulled away and walked towards the door.

He grabbed her arm and brought her back to him, her chest flushed with his. "Use your words." He prompted her, and she bit her lip, a small smile of her own growing.

"Kiss me, please."

He leaned down and their lips met, a slow but passionate kiss. His hands slid around her waist and he crossed his wrists above her hips, bringing her impossibly closer.

Her hands cupped his cheeks and he smiled, the warm feeling of her palms making his shoulders relax.

Suddenly, Penelope and Emily barged through the door, David, JJ and Morgan not far behind them. "Dinner at Rossi's-" Penelope started in a cheery voice, but froze when she saw them.

Quickly, Y/N broke away from Hotch, her back to him as she smiled awkwardly. Emily's jaw was practically on the floor, and Garcia gasped.

"Oh my," She whispered, and Morgan glanced over her shoulder, quickly catching on to the situation. "Aaron. Hotchner. Gettin' some lovin' from the newbie is not something I expected." He teased and Y/N felt her face warming, something she was getting used to now at the BAU.

"Guys, it's not-" Aaron started but was quickly cut off by JJ. "This was not something I had on my bingo card this year." She joked as she sped away with Reid, who was quickly mumbling some facts about business hook-ups.

Following in suit, Penelope grabbed the door handle and apologized repeatedly. "Just come find us when you two are done." She said quickly as she slammed the door.

Aaron leaned down and snaked an arm around her, pulling her closer once more. "We'll catch up on this later." He said as he kissed her temple.

"Do I still have to do my paperwork?" She asked in a fake-innocent voice. "Absolutely," He said before leaving soft, bruising kisses down her neck. "But you can wait until tomorrow."

She rested her head back on his chest, breathy moans parting her lips. "That's not fair. I should get special privileges now." She pleaded and he sunk his teeth into her neck, making her gasp.

"You're a smart girl, you can do a little bit of work. I'll even reward you if you do a good job." He teased, squeezing her hip with his free hand. She giggled and moved his face up to kiss him, their lips easily melting together.

"Hurry up you two! This is Y/N's first cooking lesson!" Garcia yelled through the door. Hotch let out a quiet groan as he finally pulled away, placing a few more quick kisses all over the side of her face.

She giggled and hollered back, "We're coming!" He gave a playful tap to her ass and she waited for him to grab his coat before leaving. "I didn't expect that sleeping with my boss would make my co-workers like me so much." She joked and he raised his brows suggestively, collecting his stuff from beside the desk.

"We haven't slept together yet, but that's a great idea for dessert."

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! I finished this at three AM so I'm sorry if its a bit rushed or messy. This is my first Hotch fic so it took me a bit longer to get a decent idea.

Feel free to send in requests! <3 Like, comment, and follow :)

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