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octuscle · 5 months

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If a nerd in highschool suddenly gained muscular body, without an effect on his brains or mental state

How quickly would he actually, naturally change? Maybe the attention gives him an ego?

Or maybe the jocks want to be his friend

How much of a jock could the nerd become?

Project diary, entry 1 (Friday)

My name is Salomon Miller. I live in Providence, Connecticut and am a senior in high school. I wouldn't say I have any real hobbies, but I am interested in art history, architecture, astronomy and geology. And many other things. I read a lot and actually everything I can get my hands on. But my passion is sociology and political science. That's also one of the reasons why I'm writing this diary. Starting next semester, I will be studying at Stanford and have a full scholarship, which is linked to my participation in a project. The Department of Sociology will use my person to investigate the effects of serious physical changes on the psyche and behavior. I won't find out in advance what the physical changes are, but the changes were set in motion with the help of an injection that I received today.

My parents support me in the project. My father is a lawyer specializing in environmental law, my mother is a neurologist and psychiatrist. Neither of them understand why I chose to study sociology, but as they both studied at Stanford, they accept my plans. They don't have many options either, they are both in Europe for a long time. My mother has a research semester at the University Hospital of Heidelberg and my father is currently representing a client in a lengthy case at the European Court of Justice. I've known this situation since I was a child. I'm used to having our gardener or Consuela, our housekeeper, as my social contact. That's not meant in a negative way, I love my parents, even if our contact is often less intensive. This has taught me a certain independence, which I really appreciate.

Today is the Friday evening before the last weekend of the summer vacation. The date was chosen deliberately for the injection. This gives me until Monday morning to get used to the upcoming transformation. At the moment, I feel nothing more than a certain tiredness. Normally I would go for a long walk or read something. But I'm just exhausted and will go to bed early.

Project diary, entry 2 (Saturday)

I woke up at around 03:00 in the morning. I was scared to death. I was almost strangled by my pyjamas. I tried to rip the top off my body. I tore it completely to shreds. I was no longer wearing my pyjama bottoms, which were already lying in tatters in my bed. It was clear to me that the transformation had begun. And a look in the bathroom mirror gave me certainty. My whole body was twitching, just like I'd seen in a Hulk movie. Except I didn't turn green. But my muscles literally grew. In fact, little else has changed. I am still clearly me. Even though my neck was already wider than my head, which is why I almost suffocated in my pyjamas, this was still my face. My hairstyle unchanged. My eyesight was also the same. Fortunately, the head can't get any more muscular, the glasses still fit. My thoughts were running amok in my head, I can't describe the feeling, especially as the cramps didn't stop and the muscles continued to grow. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. At around 04:30 the cramps subsided and I fell asleep again from exhaustion.

When I woke up at around 09:45, I was lying sticky and sweaty in a dried up puddle of semen. Obviously I had ejaculated once or several times. After getting up, I went to the bathroom to assess the change. According to the scales, I now weigh 120 kilograms (I assume that documentation in metric units is more scientific), my height is unchanged at 182 cm. What has actually changed is the length of my penis, which is now 18 cm when flaccid. I have not yet been able to measure the length when erect. In fact, I would have thought that the sight of a muscular man would somehow excite me. But my head has been working like crazy since I got up, I suppose my blood is needed in my brain and is not available for an erection. The shower was still an incredible experience. My body feels great. I had no idea what muscles felt like. However, I realized while showering that I had a problem: None of my clothes would fit me anymore. And my father is smaller than me and, like I was until yesterday, is also more of an ectomorph. My only hope was that José, our gardener, who is probably almost as muscular as me and about my height, had some of his clothes in the dirty laundry. He and Consuela both don't work at the weekend and I didn't want to invade his room.

I was actually lucky and managed to find a pair of jeans, a jockstrap, a T-shirt and a pair of tennis socks in the laundry. Everything smelled very unpleasant and at first I thought about washing it first and then putting it on, but then decided against it. Instead, I went to the mall as I was to buy something new to wear. There is an expense account from the project, which is presumably intended for exactly these cases. Shopping really was an ordeal. As usual, I went to Macy's at Providence Place Mall first, but I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to find anything in my size there besides clothes for gym class. Then I went to Abercrombie & Fitch for the first time. The sales assistants literally pounced on me. The XXL T-shirts fitted reasonably well, my thighs were too big for the jeans, but shorts were fine. Fortunately, the weather forecast for the next few days is still very good.

Even though I was extremely focused on quickly working through my shopping list and getting back home, I didn't miss the effect I had on my body. Not only did the sales clerks pay much more attention to me, people turned to me, nodded appreciatively at me and greeted me. It all made me extremely uncomfortable. I was glad when I got home again.

Project diary, entry 3 (Sunday)

I'm not really a religious person, but I value the institution of the church as a culturally integrating entity. So I probably would have actually gone to church, but I would have been very uncomfortable in shorts and low-cut t-shirts that exposed my chest. So I spent the day making up my bed, doing the laundry and getting ready for the first day of school after the vacations. My story for teachers and classmates will be that I spent the summer in Europe with my parents and discovered my enthusiasm for the gym out of boredom. I have no idea whether this story will be accepted. As much as possible, I completed the course enrollment online. Because I really have no idea what I can do with this body, I signed up for boxing and wrestling. The alternative would have been football, but I have no experience at all with team and ball sports. Swimming used to be the sport I hated the least, but a few laps in our pool today have shown me that my body has become less streamlined. Although I have a lot more strength, my times are worse than usual.

I have signed up again for the astronomy and chess clubs. Apart from that, I thought it made sense to leave myself enough time to be able to react to unexpected events.

My first real test was my Sunday video conference with my parents. As I can't hide anything, I decided to take the offensive and had the conversation in nothing but my swimming trunks by the pool. Even though I had no real idea of my parents' reaction, I was actually taken aback. My mother scientifically dissected the situation and said that my body was probably more efficient now and therefore I would have a benefit gain. My father disagreed, as he assumed that a bulkier body had a worse ecological balance. In the beginning, I tried to approach this project as objectively as possible. But then I couldn't help but start crying. I was afraid of tomorrow. And my parents actually showed something like emotion and compassion.

Project diary, entry 4 (Monday)

I was expecting something like running the gauntlet. But the first day at school was actually relatively unproblematic. Most of my friends at least pretended to believe my story about my stay in Europe. The teachers were not surprised either and largely went straight back to business as usual. The only noticeable reaction came from the musclemen and jocks. I have the feeling that they never took their eyes off me. When there was eye contact, I received a respectful nod. Otherwise, I felt a bit like a foreign lion approaching a pride of lions. Every muscle of the alpha animals and their water carriers was tense and ready to strike if I got too close to their watering hole. I'm looking forward to my first PE lesson tomorrow.

Project diary, entry 6 (Tuesday)

While the morning was more of a triumph, the afternoon was a debacle. The subject matter in chemistry and physics suits me very well, everything is very interesting. There shouldn't be any significant challenges in Spanish lessons either. But the new Spanish teacher is also an advantage here. Based on her first impression, she probably thought I was a hollow nut. She didn't expect me to have already read Don Quixote in the original and in the contemporary Spanish transcription during the vacations.

I embarrassed myself to the bone in gym class. Of course, after my contrived lie, everyone assumed that I knew my way around the gym like the back of my hand. And I don't even know how to hold a barbell properly. Interestingly, no one laughed at me or anything. On the contrary, they all assumed that I'm extremely underchallenged and told me that I should just train for myself and that I should join them next week after I've learned the basics. But maybe that was just polite contempt.

In any case, I spent the whole afternoon and evening at home watching all the gym tutorials I could get hold of and reading everything I could find about bodybuilding, nutrition and supplements. That's why I skipped the first session of the chess club. But I had to prioritize.

Project diary, entry 7 (Wednesday)

Theory is good, practice is better. That's why I went straight to the gym this morning at 06:00. The school janitor who opened the door for me said appreciatively that my discipline was paying off. The big boys are always the first to arrive in the morning. If only he knew. But in fact I was lucky, I was alone on the training area until 07:00 and by then I had familiarized myself with most of the machines I had learned how they worked in theory and had also developed a feeling for the weights I was able to lift.

The second visitor to the gym after me was the quarterback of the football team. Stephen and I have been at the same school since first grade. Of course I know him. But of course he has no idea who I am. We've never had classes together and someone like me is of course a nobody to him. Or was a nobody to him. Now I was his biggest rival, the only classmate who had bigger biceps and a broader chest than him. And being the alpha male that he was, he sought conflict directly. As far as I know, the jocks and Himbo's call it "cock comparison". Wherever I trained, he did the same afterwards with more weight. After training, he waited for me in front of the shower and said that he had already heard about me. I was the Spanish exchange student. I looked at him questioningly. "Well, the one who had that book with the windmills and the crazy knight at school. The linebacker goes to your Spanish course. Clever to take Spanish as a Spaniard," he said. I shook his hand, introduced myself as Salomon and told him we were in the same kindergarten. He returned the offered hand with a fist bump and said that I must have mistaken him. He had never been to Spain. But I spoke very good English for a Spaniard.

I always prefer to spend my lunch break alone. I like to read or just relax. This time, however, Stephen waved me straight over to him and his boys. He introduced me as Sal and said I should tell him how I liked it in the USA. At first, I wanted to start comparing European democracies with the US, especially in light of the rise of populist tendencies. But then I didn't think that was a good idea and just said that I thought the USA was the greatest country in the world. Stephen gave me a fistbump and all his buddies followed suit. Before English class after lunch, my friend Frederick passed me and said somewhat reproachfully whether I would always eat with the football team now. I laughed and gave him a fist bump and said that I would only eat as long as my primate research project lasted.

Project diary, entry 8 (Friday)

Yesterday was a wild day! I went to wrestling practice. Everyone but me has taken wrestling as a sport since they were in high school. I'm the only one who had no experience at all. Sure, I looked at and read through everything I could find to prepare. But without any practical experience, I really made a fool of myself. Thank God the coach really understood me. He said that he was sorry that bodybuilding wasn't a school subject. And then he gave me tips on how to pose properly. Damn, when I stood in front of the mirror in just my underpants and he touched my muscles to get them in the right position, I got a boner. And he obviously noticed. He then hugged me from behind and massaged my nipples. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I started to moan. He pulled me close to him. I felt his hard-on against my ass. And then I had my first orgasm outside of my bathroom. I was so embarrassed. And it was so great! Since then, I've really just wanted to make my coach proud. I've spent every spare minute at the gym, signed up to the sports club to do more wrestling and spent a small fortune on sportswear. I'm afraid I have a real crush for the first time in my life.

Today I got a telling off from my friends from the astronomy club. I missed the meeting and no longer see them during school breaks. I admit it, I'm neglecting my old social environment. But I have to find my way in my new role. Or rather, I have to find this new role first. Tonight I have a date with a couple of guys from the sports club. We're going to the gym first and then want to watch football in the sports bar. I'm a bit excited because I've tended to spend my weekend evenings alone in front of the computer so far. Now I have to think about what I'm going to wear.

Project diary, entry 9 (Sunday)

Dude, I might be drunk. For the second night in a row. The weekend is one big party. Last night at the sports bar was great. It was a little hard at first to pretend I knew anything about football. But after one beer I didn't give a shit. At some point, someone bought me some booze. Because his team had won or something. I was completely out of it and had to puke at some point. I can't really remember, but I'm afraid I didn't hit the toilet bowl. One of the boys then took me home with him. I really wasn't able to find my way home. Apparently, at some point I invited the boys over for a pool party on Saturday. And it escalated a little bit. Fuck, I probably have to spend the rest of the day tidying and cleaning. But for now I'm going to bed. After I've thrown up.

Project diary, entry 10 (Monday)

I'm a bit embarrassed about my behavior at the weekend. When I woke up on Sunday, a few of the boys were still snoring by the pool. And a few of them were making breakfast on the barbecue. I didn't really get around to cleaning. And then I overslept today too. Consuela suddenly came into my room and asked if my parents knew what had happened here. I gave her 100 dollars from my emergency expense fund and asked her not to reveal anything. She and Raoul actually did a great job. When I got home from astronomy club late at night, everything was pretty tidy again. The two of them are real treasures!

Mondays are not sports days. History, English, math. I admit that math has never been my hobbyhorse. And my teacher has made no secret of the fact that he thinks I'm an overprivileged white boy. When I couldn't answer a question to his satisfaction today, he said something along the lines of "Muscleheads are just all airheads". The whole back row started throwing paper balls at the teacher and hooting in protest. I have never received such expressions of sympathy.

Between school and the astronomy club, I went to the optician and got some contact lenses. Glasses are just so annoying when you're doing sport. And then I went to the hairdresser. I like my haircut. My hair is longer at the nape of my neck than at the sides. I had a photo of Coach with me and said that I wanted to look like this. Hehehe, the hairdresser said that he couldn't take away my muscles. In fact, I'm bigger than Coach. The hairdresser also shaved my beard. I haven't even written that yet, I have the feeling that my beard and body hair are growing faster and thicker. A bush is growing under my armpits and in my pubic area...

The astronomy club was terribly exhausting. I wanted to concentrate on the Jupiter-Venus conjunction. We had the best conditions to observe it today. But the nerds were all just asking questions about what exactly it was like on vacation, how I trained, how I changed my diet. I prepared myself for these kinds of questions. But every one of my answers was scientifically dissected. If it goes on like this, I'd rather look at the stars alone.

Project diary, entry 11 (Thursday)

The last few days have been pretty exciting, which is why I didn't get around to writing the diary. After training on Tuesday I went to the showers. Not all the guys on the team do this, but I just don't feel comfortable in the sweat with a bit of Axe under my arms. I also urgently needed to clear my balls and cock of the hair that was growing and shave my chest. I still can't get used to how hairy I get. In any case, it all took longer than with the other boys and then I was alone with Chuck in the shower. And suddenly Chuck knelt in front of me and sucked my cock. Without warning. I had prepared myself for intercourse in theory and in practice.

In any case, I've been a bit confused ever since. I mean, I have a crush on Coach. And Coach also got a boner when he helped me pose. I mean, he must think I'm hot too. But Chuck says he's had a crush on me ever since he and I spent Friday night together. The night I don't remember. But I'm writing all mixed up...

The blowjob in the shower was definitely sooooo hot. Even though it didn't last long. Boy, I shot my load into Chuck's mouth like that. My cum was leaking out of both corners of his mouth. He French kissed me with my cum in his mouth. Dude, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. And then he grinned and said that edging wasn't really my thing. I had no idea what he meant. In any case, I kissed him again and started wanking his cock. I was far too excited to suck him off myself. Chuck moaned and started twitching. Then he pulled me against him and wedged his cock between our stomach muscles. And then blew his load. Bloody hell! I don't know how long we showered together and soaped each other up.

In any case, I then started to gain practical experience with sexual intercourse. Chuck spent the night with me the day before yesterday and yesterday. The first time we fucked was really awkward. Chuck also asked if I was still a virgin. I said no, of course. But I'm sure he realized that it was the first time I'd fucked someone. And also that I was being fucked. In bed and in the hot tub. The first time I blew him was Wednesday in the school bathroom. We both just had a lot of pressure on our balls before civics. Shit, I'd never thought about sex before, now I can't get sex out of my head.

Practice is coming up. I just jerked off to the idea of forming a sandwich with Coach and Chuck in the shower. That would be so hot!

Project diary, entry 12 (Sunday)

Shit, I love my life. The parties this weekend were so hot. I mean, sure I love Chuck, but my dick has too much energy for one man. And Chuck gets off on me fucking other men too. As long as he's the only one who gets to fuck me. It's a point of honor, of course!

Before I go to bed now, I went to the gym again. To burn off the alcohol. And prepare my muscles for a tough week. I have my first wrestling tournament next Friday. And I've promised Steph-bruh, the quarterback, that I'll drop by football training. The hollow nut still calls me wetback, but has now understood that I'm not Spanish or Latino. And then I have to chat with my mentor from Stanford again. I don't know if sociology is really my subject. Chuck wants to study business administration. He's hoping for an athletic scholarship. Maybe I'm up for that too.

Inspiration found @redneckmusclehead

#male tf #muscle tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk

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diagnosedpsychosis · 1 year

Text

Protective Hotch

Description: There is a copycat the BAU are after, so Hotch and reader go to prison to talk to the original offender. The prisoner makes a few suggestive comments about the reader that Hotch doesn't like.

Made up, not a CM episode.

Word Count: 2.5k

______________________________________________________________

You had only ever stepped inside a prison a handful of times before. Literally. You could count every visit on one hand, all whilst being able to recount why you'd gone those 4 times in the first place; now 5.

The first 3 were all for the same thing, and the same person. A serial rapist and murderer you had helped catch years earlier was being interviewed, and not only did you have to supervise, but perform a psych eval on him as well.

The fourth time, you were in and out in record time. Another prisoner you'd put away had died and you were there purely to collect the few belongings in his cell. When the Warden of the Penitentiary had called you to inform you of the inmates passing, you offered to come down from Virginia. The Warden suggested not bothering, and that they'd just throw his belongings in the rubbish bin, which is exactly why you got on the earliest plane you possibly could. This particular inmate had victims he'd not told you about, and you just wanted to make sure with your own eyes he didn't name them in or on anything in his cell.

Today though, on your fifth time inside prison walls, you weren't alone. Your company came in the form of your long time workplace crush, Aaron Hotchner. The pressure of having not only your crush, but the BAU's Unit Chief with you put an immense weight on your shoulders.

Usually you weren't fazed by the cold glares and almost bored expressions. Aaron Hotchner exuded power and had subconsciously mastered the art of intimidation, but that wasn't what made the hairs on the back of your neck stand as he walked beside you, down prison halls.

It was how close beside you he walked. The outside of his arm brushed yours with each step and sway of his arms, and even though you could see, in the corner of your eye, his head facing forward, you could feel his eyes bouncing all over the place.

He stood close not because he wanted to, but because even if every cell door was closed, and every hall had 3 guards tending to it at all times, he didn't feel 100% safe, which meant he wasn't comfortable having you around. Because he knew, that if by some fluke chance the doors buzzed open, you would be every prisoners target.

He knew it. You knew it. The inmates knew it.

"Oh Hey Baby, how about taking a detour and stopping by my cell?" Somebody off to the side hollered, which lead to a loud array of crude comments made your way. You ignored them well, but Hotch seemed to take offence for you. You were almost at the end of the hall, but that didn't stop Hotch from protectively stepping even closer, almost tripping you up with how close he now was.

You both got to the door at the end of the hall, the guard standing beside it nodding at the two of you before letting you in. You walked in first, Hotch shutting the door behind himself as you stepped up to the one sided glass, looking at the man you both were about to question.

"Certainly not the kind of man I'd enjoy being alone with" You stated, Hotch stopped beside you and looking into the visitors room, his arm brushing yours again. Relatively old and greying, Martin Gould was NOT a sight for sore eyes. He wasn't attractive, which is what ended up being a factor of his killings. He'd ask a woman out, she'd reject him, he'd later stalk her, and then rape and mutilate her, in her own home.

"I wouldn't have brought you if I didn't need you. I'm not going to leave your side. I promise" Hotch told you. When you and the team had been going through victimology of the copycats and then compared them to the original killers, you'd all come to the same conclusion. You were his type, to the T.

That's why you were here. Not because your skills were valued and appreciated...but because you were this guys type, and you hated that. You hated feeling like you had to prove yourself more, in a team you'd been in for years. You worked 5 times as hard as everyone else, and yet still felt like you'd gotten nowhere at being seen as an asset to the team. Nobody had ever said it to your face, hell maybe they'd never even thought that way about you, but you were an avid overthinking pessimist.

"Everything is going to be fine" Hotch reassured you again when you didn't reply to his promise. You sighed, grabbing the door that separated you two from Martin Gould.

"Easy for you to say. He raped and mutilated 13 women" Before Hotch got time to process what you'd said and the weight of your words, you opened the door and stepped inside. Martin Gould immediately looked to you as you entered, paying little to no attention to Hotch as he followed behind, and took the seat beside you at the metal table.

"Wow. Just wow" Martin sighed, leaning forward and resting his chin on his open palm, as he stared at you like you were the brightest star in the sky. At least someone appreciated you.

"Martin, I'm SSA y/n y/l/n, and this is SSA Aaron-"

"Has anyone ever told you you've got the eyes of a rare jewel?" You ignored him, and continued on like he'd never interrupted you in the first place.

"-Hotchner. We're with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit-"

"No ring, I don't see how that's possible. You must have men down at your feet 24/7" Martin interrupted you again, shuffling forward in his seat slightly to get closer to you.

"We're here to investigate a string of serial rape and mutilations. Same signature as yours from 7 years ago" Hotch speaks for the first time, and you both notice Martin's jaw twitch at the sound of his voice. Martin takes a breath, ignoring Hotch before smiling back at you.

"Couldn't be me, Sweetheart" Martin tells you softly, lifting his hands and showing you the chains restricting his movement.

"It's a copycat, somebody who admires you. He's probably sent you hundreds of letters over the course of the last 7 years" Martin holds his smirk as he listens to you, enjoying the sound of your voice and the way your lips move with each word.

"They would've started with him confiding in you, expressing his share of troubles involving women rejecting him. Then they would've started becoming a little more aggressive" You state, Hotch straightening his posture, one of his tells that he's about to talk.

"Probably wrote 'What is wrong with me?' over and over again" Hotch adds, Martin's smile faltering as he speaks again.

"And then his most recent letters would've been him talking about women like we're a virus. Something nasty that could be caught and had to be terminated" Martin shook his head ever so lightly, his smile growing with every second you continued talking to him. He's a classic narcissist and thinks that the fact you're talking directly to him and looking him dead on, means you're flirting with him.

"As pretty as you are, you're just like them, aren't you?" He asked slowly making you frown.

"I'm sorry?" Martin leans forward a tiny bit more, the smile on his face long gone and replaced with a look of repulsion.

"A needy whore, asking for it-"

"That's enough" Hotch stated.

"Begging for it. You all lead us on with your smiles and your glances, but then you laugh in our faces and tell us to get lost" So that's why he thought these women deserved it. Because to him, an innocent smile and a half a second passing by glance meant flirting. So when he'd walk up and randomly ask a woman out and she'd say no, he'd see her as a tease, a deceiver, someone who needed to pay.

"You're nothing less, Agent y/n y/l/n. Just a whore with a bitching, lying mouth, and a pussy asking to be-" Hotch sliding back in his chair and abruptly standing up caught you off guard more than Martin Gould's random verbal attack.

"Y/n, out" Hotch demanded, leaving no room to argue against his direct order. But you did anyway.

"No, Hotch, I'm fine-"

"Y/l/n, out or you're suspended for a week" Your face contorts with shock. Never has Hotch ever been so forward and aggressive towards you in your life and you hated how being on the receiving end of his threat made you feel.

"What?" You stood and raised your voice, finding Hotch completely unreasonable in this moment. You were with a prisoner who know who the unsub was, you could easily get it out of him, and now here he was sending you out. He brought you all this way for a couple sentences?

"You're not being forceful enough, Agent. Bend her over and teach her a-" Martin's words became background noise as Hotch took your arm, backing you up to the door of the visiting room, before opening the door and practically shoving you out. He let go before you could rip your arm from his grasp, and shut the door in your face.

Not knowing what the hell just happened and why the hell Hotch reacted like that, you storm over to the one sided glass window, and slam your palm against the button under the window that allows you to hear what is being said inside the visiting room.

"I don't care who you are, or where we are. If you ever talk to my Agent like that, ever again, I'll make you sure I am the last thing you ever see" Hotch threatened, the look on his face sending a wave of goose bumps over every inch of your burning skin. He looked furious.

"Probably not the best place to threaten killing me, Agent Hotchner" Martin stated, trying to hold back his laughter. It quickly died down at the expression adorning Hotch's face. It was almost like he was being challenged.

"I don't need to kill you to take away your sight, Gould. All I need is a speculum and a pair of scissors" Hotch replied and you watched in shock as for the first time since talking with him, Martin looked anything but cocky. Hotch used Martin's current state to his advantage.

"His name" Martin hesitated, glancing at the one way window like he knew you were standing behind it.

"Dane Hansen" The second the name left his mouth, Hotch was turning around and exiting the visiting room, only to be met with an annoyed you, giving him the cold shoulder. His eyes stayed glued to yours as he shut the door behind himself.

"Don't give me that look."

"I was given about 10 seconds from the first time you told me to get out before you threatened to suspend me. If you want me gone just say it, Hotch" You knew you were probably being unreasonable but you were annoyed. What so quickly went from 'get out' turned to 'if you don't you're suspended'. It escalated in seconds and made you wonder how long they'd been sitting on the tip of Hotch's tongue.

"Was I the only one that heard the way he talked about you?" Hotch questioned, clearly annoyed by your assumption. You take a step toward him.

"Simply sending me out of the room doesn't stop me from hearing it, Hotch" You brought attention to your hand by tapping the button again, turning off the speaker. Hotch took a step forward.

"He was getting satisfaction out of you being in the room" My presence. My face. My body. Not my skills, and Hotch knew that. He only brought me to show me off.

"Be honest with me, Hotch. Do you bring me along for these things because you think I'm the worst profiler on the team, so I won't be needed as much back there with everyone?" Hotch frowns at me, turning his head to the right slightly.

"I have never once called you a bad profiler."

"You've never called me a good one either, Aaron. Believe it or not, but I'm one of those people that need to be told they're doing good to keep doing good. I need the validation, otherwise I lose energy and end up giving a half assed effort" You immediately realised the first name slip, but if Hotch noticed it he certainly didn't show it. Instead, he takes another step that makes him dangerously close. You can smell his musky cologne, and if either of you take another step your face would be buried in his chest.

"Y/n, you're not a good profiler, you're an amazing profiler. I didn't bring you along today to show you off as a piece of meat to Gould. You're his type, but so is Prentiss. I wanted you here. I wanted you on the plane, and I wanted you in the car. I like your company, I like your perspective and I like your brain" You suck in a shaky breath, embarrassingly overwhelmed so quickly by Hotch's compliment. Even though it's only a few things, it means so much because he's not the kind of guy to get even slightly sentimental about anything.

"You think I don't notice when the overthinking side of you takes over the reasonable side? You're an asset to our team, y/n. I didn't bring you along for the benefit of the case, I brought you along for myself" Tense silence consumes the room and the air the two of you breathe. For what feels like minutes, you two stand, almost toe to toe staring at each other.

There's an achingly intense energy floating around the two of you, and before looks go any further or before either of you can slice the tension in half, Hotch's phone rings, and you both rear back at the shriek.

Your shoulders sag in disappointment and you swear you see the same with Hotch's, but he's back in boss mode too fast for you to really catch a good look as he listens to somebody on the other end of the line.

"We're just heading out now. Yeah, we got a name; Dane Hansen" Hotch ends the phone call and his eyes meet yours again as he shoves his phone back in his pocket.

"We've got to go" You press your lips into a tight smile and nod. Walking past him, you go to grab the door that'll lead you back into the hall, but before you reach it a large, warm hand wraps around your wrist stopping you.

You turn back to Hotch, and again he's toe to toe with you. His grip on your arm is soft, and the look on his face mixed with his parted lips tells you all you need to know; he wants to say something.

You don't know what he's thinking, but you also don't want to force it out of him. You smile and slowly pull away from his grip before patting his arm.

"It's okay, Aaron. Come on, let's go."

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