#derek morgan x inexperienced!reader

[fragileruns]

Hello love! Would it be possible to request something with derek morgan x inexperienced!reader? I think it's such an interesting dynamic since he's a very suave person. Maybe something about the reader being nervous or insecure of having less experience than he does? You can go either fluffy or smut or both 🥰 I hope this request finds you well. Thank you in advance!! ❤️

hi! thank you for your request <3 it’s just a little blurb but i hope you like it

derek morgan x reader. content warning: mentions of sex but no smut, reader being nervous, derek being a gentleman, reader likes coffee so if you don’t i’m sorry, reader has hair but i think the rest is gender neutral

You had spent longer than you’d care to admit picking out an outfit for your date tonight. You knew that Derek had seen you at your worst - working together had made it inevitable for him to see you sick at least once, tired, irritable, and much worse than that - but it still felt like a big deal.

It was your third date, and you knew what the implications meant. Even if you didn’t, Emily, JJ, and Penelope and taken to relentlessly teasing you to make sure you did know. And sure, you’d known each other for years and had been in this sort of relationship for a few months (your work made it hard to plan times to be together, which was why you’d been on so few dates), but you were nervous.

You had never really been with many people. Somehow, Derek had managed to be with quite a few people even with how often you had to be away for your job: you knew this because everyone did. He wasn’t exactly subtle. You, however, were not as skilled at picking up anyone while you were away or at home, for that matter. The only people you’d been with were the few actual relationships you’d had in the past.

So, you were sitting on his couch after your date - he had cooked for you, which somehow made this all even more nerve wracking - and you were trying desperately not to bounce your knee.

After what felt like forever, and simultaneously not long enough to prepare yourself, Derek had come to plop down next to you. He insisted you go sit while he did the dishes, something about being a ‘gentleman’ and ‘needing you to sit pretty.’

You were sure he’d noticed your nerves, but he had been kind enough not to say anything yet. However, once he placed a hand on your thigh in what was meant to be a comforting way, and you tensed up, he couldn’t hold it in.

“What’s up with you tonight? Did I do something wrong? You’re not vegan, are you?” He questioned, worried that maybe you hadn’t really enjoyed your dinner.

“What? No,” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him for a mere second, before casting your gaze in front of you. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m just tired.”

“Trying to lie to a profiler? Babe, that’s like, the worst move you could make,” Derek chuckled slightly, turning to face you more. He was trying to make light of the situation, and you appreciated that, but your nerves didn’t seem to care.

“I’m a profiler, too.”

“So you should know you can’t hide things from me. C’mon, just spit it out,” his hand moved to brush your hair off of your shoulder before rubbing it to try and coax whatever was wrong out of you. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You shot him a look, and he grinned. “Okay, depending on what it is, I may laugh. Just a little bit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to tell me.”

“I just - it’s our third date.”

“Really? Thought it was our fifth.” He tried to joke, but when it didn’t seem to calm you any, he just shook his head and mumbled a small apology.

“And there’s… implications that go along with it.”

Derek tilted his head, looking at you similar to a confused dog. But when you didn’t clarify and instead only gave him a look, he understood what you meant.

“And you’re worried about that?”

“I mean, kind of. Yes. I just,” you sighed as you tried to piece your words together, cheeks flush with embarrassment about even having to have this conversation. You were an adult, but for some reason, telling your sort of boyfriend that you hadn’t had sex in a while still felt awkward. “I’m not really.. experienced, I guess. I’ve only been with a few people. And you-”

“Used to be a total manwhore?”

“I wasn’t going to say that. And I really wish Garcia hadn’t taught you that term.”

He laughed at that then, and his arm lifted off of your shoulder to trail down your arm, before he grabbed onto your hand.

“Look, I’m not expecting anything out of tonight, okay? I just wanted to spend time with you, I don’t care if I see you naked tonight. Or for a while. It doesn’t matter,” he started, and the seriousness on his face was almost odd, since you were used to his teasing grin. “If you’re not ready for it, I’m not ready for it. Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean we’re required to have sex. And I wasn’t really thinking about that, anyway. I don’t want to do it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want you to be disappointed because I’m not as good as you expected. Or what you’re used to,” You frowned, and it made him frown, almost like a mirror.

“Baby. Sweetheart. Honey. You seriously think I’m going to be disappointed? I used to wake up early every morning so I could get coffee from your favorite place just so I could have an excuse to bring you a cup and talk to you.”

“That’s forty minutes out of the way.”

“I know. I’m like, borderline obsessed with you. You should be creeped out.” When the corners of your lips turned up at that, he broke out into a grin, and leaned forward to grab your face into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “What I’m saying is, I could never be disappointed by anything you do. If we have sex, and only whenever you’re ready for it, it’s going to be great for me no matter what. ‘Cause it means that I’m with you.”

Your head leaned against the palm of his hand, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, quick but loving.

“If you’re ever feeling stressed about these things, you need to just tell me. Don’t sulk, you shouldn’t be nervous about anything. Not with me. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly and his hands drop from his face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you to his side, your head falling onto his shoulder.

“Great. Now - which horror movie do you wanna watch? Halloween or Scream?”

[hotchscvm]

three cents

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

[crowleysgirl67]

Family Business

Author: @crowleysgirl67

Word Count: 3782

Parings/Characters: NCIS team, BAU, (Y/N) Gibbs, Hotch x Reader (eventual)

Warnings: NCIS/CM crossover, show warnings, angst,   

A/N: Thanks for reading! Loosely based on NCIS S3 E 23/24 the hiatus,

“(Y/N)” 

You turned at the sound of your name and smiled as you saw your dad approach with Fornell in tow. You abandoned your new team mates, who watched with curiosity, and met him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We had other business to discuss and I mentioned you and your team were here.” Fornell chuckled. “You know he can’t resist seeing you.”

“Please you’re the same way with Emily.” your smile never faded.

“Plus he wants to scope them out ya know how dads are.” Fornell smirked as Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“Well come on then. I’ll introduce you.” you hooked your arm through your dads and led him over to the team. 

“Special Agent Gibbs, this is my team Dr. Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, and Emily Prentiss. Penelope Garcia is our tech analyst who isn’t in the group right here. Nor is our team leader Agent Hotchner.” He gives a slight nod as you introduce everyone, obviously sizing them up a bit. 

“Guys this is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.” 

“Gibbs?” Morgan questions, looking between the two of you.

“My father.” you smiled, glancing over at him catching the small smile that graced his face before it disappeared. 

Hotch emerged from his office and appeared at the top of the steps, looking down watching. Rossi spotted him and waved him down, “Come meet Agent Gibbs”

Confusion crosses his face as he comes down the steps, “I’ve already met her, she's on the team.”

“Not me Hotch.” you smiled and rolled your eyes. 

His attention shifted to Gibbs “Special Agent Aaron Hotchner.” he introduced himself. 

“Special Agent Gibbs” he shook his hand in a firm grasp. 

You shook your head slightly as they sized each other up. You understood he just wanted to make sure you were safe, but sometimes it was ridiculous. Their weird spell was broken when a cell rang, Gibbs unclipped it from his belt and answered “Gibbs.”

He took a few steps away to listen to his call. When he was finished you approached him to say goodbye knowing he had to go. After your goodbyes you headed back over to the team.

“What?” you asked, feeling a little weird as they stared at you. 

“So that was your dad huh? Interesting guy.” Morgan says.

You shrug, “He’s my dad.” you did worry that they were profiling him but you didn’t dwell on it as Hotch beckoned everyone to the conference room. Time for another case.

***

“What the hell was that?!” Hotch shouted at you. 

“What do you mean what was that? It’s my fucking job!” you seethed. Who the hell did he think he was? You did your job, you weren’t out of line.

“You could have been hurt, or worse.” 

“So could anybody! Rossi, Derek, you! Any of us could!” you crossed your arms.

“You’re different.”  

“How the fuck am I different?”

“You’re young, you haven’t been doing this as long.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been doing this since I was eighteen.”

“Under your father, sure.”

Your jaw dropped, “Your excuse is that I’m inexperienced because my dad taught me? My father is one of the best damn agents there is and I will not stand here and take this.” you stormed off.  

***

You clenched your jaw but kept quiet. The plane ride was tense and you felt a little bad for the others that they couldn’t relax a little because Hotch was mad at you, again. It wasn’t as if you tried to get in trouble, it was just something about him treating you differently than the rest of them that pissed you off. Sure you were the youngest but that didn’t mean you weren’t capable. Hell you’d been doing this for years. This work was in your blood, who you were.

Protecting people was your job, even if it meant you were in harms way. Standing in front of that kid today was no different. The unsub had been waving a gun around and the kid would have been in the crossfire if you hadn’t stepped in. 

By the time the plane landed you’d finished your reports and dropped them in front of Hotch as you deboarded faster than the rest of them. You were half way across the tarmac by the time they got off. 

“Who the hell is that?” Morgan asks as you run up to a man in a red sports car.

“Does she have a boyfriend?” JJ asked.

“She’s never mentioned one. Can anybody see him clearly? Maybe it’s just her dad. We don’t know what kind of car he drives.” Emily suggests. “I think his name is Tony.” Spencer joins them on the ground.

“Slow down, pretty boy. How do you know that?” Morgan looks at him.

“I caught a glimpse of her cell phone screen when she was texting.” he shrugs as they watch you get in the car and the two of you take off.  

***

When you walked in Monday morning you headed straight for Hotch’s office. Might as well get the yelling over with. You were feeling a little better after spending the weekend with your dad and friends. Ziva and you did a little sparring to help you work out some of your aggression. You flex your bruised and a little bit bloodied knuckles and roll your shoulder a bit where she’d gotten a good hit in. Open handed you tapped on Hotch’s door in lieu of knocking. 

“Come in.” he said without looking up. 

You walked in and shut the door, which made him look up. He regarded you as you crossed your arms waiting for him to start. 

Instead of yelling he said, “You’re hurt.” 

“Oh this is nothing. Just did some sparring over the weekend.” you shrug off his comment. You’d had worse which actually caused permanent bone pain.

He looked pointedly at your bruised knuckles, “Since when does sparring do that?”

“When you spar with a former Mossad officer. She is ruthless.” you chuckle softly.

“Was there something you needed?”

“Uh.. You’re not gonna yell at me? You were pretty pissed earlier.” you were confused. You had expected to be yelled at not this.

“No. Anything else?”

“Uh… I guess not.”

He nodded and went back to his work effectively dismissing you. You left his office confused, not that you minded not being yelled at. In fact it was nice not to be, but you were confused why he had a change of heart. It crossed your mind that one of the others might have said something to him. You were with them all weekend you didn’t see how they could have. 

“Yo (Y/N). You ok?” Morgan asked, walking up beside you. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m fine.” you answered distractedly.

“Yeah cuz you sound fine. What’s up?” he slung his arm over your shoulder. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. But thank you for your concern, that's sweet.”

“Ok, I’ll drop it if you answer a question for me.” he grins.

“You want to know who picked me up?” you guessed.

“Exactly. So who is he?”

“Tonys a friend, he works with my dad.”

“Just a friend huh?” he raised a brow at you.

“Yes.” you roll your eyes and nudge him, “He’s like my big brother. You tryin’ suss out if I’m dating anyone? Because the answer is no.”

He didn’t get to say anything else as JJ came over.

“Conference room in five.” she said as she passed. 

“Ya heard the lady.” you chuckled and ducked from under his arm and headed that direction. 

After the case debrief, everyone scattered to gather their things to meet on the plane. You were the last one out as you slipped your phone from your pocket and sent a group text to Tony, Ziva, Mcgee and you included Abby. Although you were sure it wasn’t her she would get a kick out of this.

*Alright, which one of you did it? Fess up.* you sent the text and grabbed your bag after making it back to your desk. Their responses rolled in quickly.

*Ooh you’re in trouble* you chuckled to yourself at Abby.

Ziva: *I don’t know what you’re referring to.* 

Tony : *Did what? Whatever it was I plead the fifth*  

You: *Who got to my boss? He didn't yell at me today.*

Ziva: *Is that not a good thing? I am confused. You were just complaining about him yelling at you.*

Abby: *gasp* (Y/N) are you disappointed he didn’t yell at you?

Tony: *Do you like him???*

You: Shut up Tony. 

Abby: *YOU DO!!!! That’s so cute!!!! 

You: YOU’RE MISSIN’ THE POINT! 

You: *Who did it???*

Tim: *I did. I texted him a video from your phone of you sparring with Ziva, with a caption about you being upset about being treated differently. I then deleted the evidence.

Tony: *Go probie! I didn’t know you had it in you.*

You: *Awww Tim. <3 Thank you, that was sweet.*

Tony *Hold up! That’s it? You’re not gonna call him out?*

You: *No, it was sweet.*

Tony: *Sweet?! You’d kick my ass if I talked to him. Hell you’d try to kick Ziva's ass too.*

Ziva: *She would not get far.*

Tim: *I thought she was doing pretty well the other night.*

Ziva: *I was going easy. Gibbs was not too happy with the small bruising she acquired from that.*

Abby: *That’s his baby. Of course he’s unhappy when she’s hurt.*

You: *Guys you realize I’m still here right?* 

Tony: *Back to my point. What the hell (Y/N).*

You: *It’s sweet coming from Tim. He isn’t as gung ho to fuck somebody up over my feelings being hurt as the two of you are. I love that about you but sometimes you gotta just let me bitch.*

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Morgan slid up next to you.  

“Geez fuck!” you jumped and slid your phone in your pocket. You’d been so absorbed in your text conversation you hadn’t heard him approach.

He laughed and you shoved him playfully.

“Didn’t your mama teach you not to sneak up on a lady?” 

“I don’t see Garcia anywhere.” he shoots you a shit eating grin.

“Derek, you are a little brat.” you admonish, but grin back anyway.

*** 

When you arrived at Rossis, you were surprised to see that Hotch and Jack were the only ones there. 

“Am I early? Didn’t you say six?” you asked Rossi as he invited you in.

“I did. You know how everybody is. Fashionably late.”  

“I suppose that’s true.” you chuckled softly. 

“You alright?” he took notice of your arm in a sling. It wasn’t there yesterday after you closed the latest case.

“Yeah. Just an old injury acting up. Keeping it immobilized helps.”

He nods, “Well make yourself at home. We’ll be in full swing before you know it.”

You smiled and made your way in taking a seat near Jack who was coloring. 

“Hi Miss (Y/N).” Jack smiles at you.

“Hey Jack. Whatcha colorin’?”

“Tow Mater.” He shows you his coloring book.

“Wow. He looks really good buddy.” you smiled softly.

“Thanks! Do you wanna color too?”

“Sure. I’d be happy too.” you adjusted the sling a bit before sliding down next to him on the floor.  

Hotch found himself smiling as he watched you color with Jack. You were very attentive to him, even after everyone else arrived. 

“You’re really good with him. Thank you.” Hotch slides next to you on the couch. 

“He’s a good kid. You’ve done well Hotch.”

“I can’t take all the credit, Hailey did most of the work.”    

“You both did great. He seems well adjusted for losing a parent so young. It’s hard.” you watched Jack giggle at some magic trick Spencer was showing him.

“How old were you?” Hotch glanced your way. 

“I was seven.” you rubbed your arm. The accident had robbed you of your mother and twin sister and left you hospitalized for months.    

He squeezed your shoulder gently, “I’m sorry.”

You give him a small smile and pat his hand gently, “I’m sorry too. Losing your spouse is incredibly difficult. I’ve watched my dad all these years.” 

***

You excused yourself when your phone rang and stepped into an empty office to take the call. 

“(Y/N)” Tony's voice was grave over the phone, cluing you into trouble. 

“What’s happened? Who's hurt?” you gripped the edge of the desk with your free hand. 

“There was a bomb your dad…” he started

You didn’t hear anything else as you felt your knees give out and you sunk to the floor. “No! No. no no.” you chanted as you struggled to breathe, to focus. 

The door flung open as Hotch and the others filed in. They had seen you go down, their concerned faces went unnoticed by you.

“Is he alive?” you gripped the phone so hard you thought it’d break.

“Yes...” Tony’s voice faded away as Hotch pried your phone from you to get details. He was alive, the relief swept through you. Whatever else you could deal with as long as he was alive.    

Your brain was in overdrive as you scrambled to your feet, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I have to go.”  

“(Y/N).” Hotch said, making you look at him. “You’re in no shape to drive. I’ll take you.”

“I.. ok.” you nodded. He was right, it was a bad idea for you to drive yourself.  

The ride to the hospital was a blur as you stared out the window trying to compose yourself. Hotch didn’t say anything as he drove, just kept glancing over as he watched the tears slip down your face in silence. 

“(Y/N)!” Abby cried out as she saw you approach.

“Abby” you hug her. “How is he?”

“He’s in a coma.” Abby gives you the grim news.  

***

You hadn’t left the hospital since you got there, and by extension neither had Hotch. You spent most of your time in a chair by his bedside, holding his hand and staring blankly between bouts of tears. It had been three days and you were getting worried he wasn’t going to come out of it. 

You wondered how your feelings had been compared to what he had gone through after coming home to find his wife and one daughter were murdered and his youngest in a medically induced coma to heal from the wreck. If his feelings were half as intense as yours, you didn’t understand why he hadn’t lost his mind. In comparison he hadn’t been in the coma that long, yet you were losing your mind.  

Tony stopped by briefly to check on you and bring you a bag. He knew better than to try to get you to leave. 

“She likes big comfy clothes when she's in distress. Also she bites her lower lip, so watch out for that. She hasn’t done it in a while but I suspect she might start. It’s almost as if it's an unconscious act. She’ll do it until she bleeds so stop her if you catch it.” he said casually as he stood next to Hotch as they watched from outside as you sat in a chair beside Gibbs bed. The large oversized hoodie Tony brought already on you, like a security blanket. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Hotch glanced at him.

“While I may be the joker of the group, I’m not stupid. You care about her.” Tony doesn’t look at him.

“She’s a part of my team of course I do.”

Tony shakes his head, “We both know it's more than that. As her friend I’m speaking for all of us, hurt her we’ll hurt you. She’s been through enough already.”

Hotch can’t help the small smile. He was glad you had such caring friends. 

Tony stepped away to tell you goodbye before returning to work, they still had a case to solve. Hotch watched as you hugged him and pondered his exchange with Tony. 

Director Sheppard had arrived again and you let her have the room. You were currently on the bench outside of the hospital room, head in Aarons lap and asleep as he stroked your hair. He was quietly talking to Dave who had stopped by to check in. The team had started coming in shifts to help relieve him. He had gone home for a little bit to shower, check on Jack and catch a few hours of sleep.

A flurry of activity going into Gibbs room stopped the conversation. Hotch turned as much as he could without waking you to stare into the room to see what was going on. He couldn’t see much with the doctors in the way but he could see the Director's face in relief. Gibbs must have woken up. 

Aaron was reluctant to wake you, as you hadn’t been asleep that long. He knew he needed to but he was determined to give you a few extra minutes or at least until the doctors were through. When they looked to be about done he gently began to rub your back, “(Y/N). Time to get up.”   

It didn’t take him as long as he expected to rouse you and you sat up. You rubbed your hands over your face to wipe away the sleep and looked around. “What’s going on?”

“Miss Gibbs?” the doctor stepped out before Aaron could answer you.

“Special Agent Gibbs.” He corrected the doctor for you.

The doctor took it in stride “Your father is awake.”

You jumped up, “Can I see him? How is he?”

“You can see him but I have to warn you, he has amnesia. He doesn't remember anything from the last fifteen years.”

“Oh no,” You whispered as you wavered on your feet a bit. Hotch stood wrapping an arm around you to keep you steady.

The doctor gives you a sympathetic look, “Try not push him to remember. We want him to try to do that on his own.” 

“Ok.” you nod and turn to look at the director and dad through the window.  

“You don’t have to go in until you're ready, kid.” Rossi gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Thanks Rossi, but it’s not gonna hurt any less, might as well get it over with.” you gave him a small, unconvincing smile. Hotch dropped his arm allowing you to move freely as you walked to the door. 

You walk through the door and both turn to look at you. 

“Shannon?” he had so much hope in his voice, it hurt. 

The dam breaks and the water works start at him calling you your mother. “No daddy it’s me (Y/N).” 

“You didn’t…” he trails off as he looks at you.

“No. I survived.” you knew what he was trying to say. You made your way over and sat in the chair beside his bed. 

His calloused hand cupped your cheek as he wiped your tears away. Not that that did any good against the steady stream. 

“You look so much like your mother.” 

You let out a half laugh half sob, his pain was probably fresh. In his mind it was fifteen years ago. You had been too young to know the details of when and where he was told. He never talked about it, even after you’d gotten older. He had been deployed when it had occurred, that much you knew.

“They weren’t sure you were going to make it.” 

You met his eyes, surprised he would even talk about it. You weren’t sure how much he remembered yet. Staying silent you let him continue. 

“You died twice. At least that’s what they told me when I was able to come home and see you.”

“I don’t remember much, but I only thought it was once.” you remembered very little about the crash. It was always flashes of memories, you did however vividly remember dying.   

“What do you mean?” he looked at you questioningly.

“I only remember dying once. It was cold and dark and I was scared, but then mom and Kelly were there. Mom..” you cleared the lump in your throat. “Mom said I had to go back. We couldn’t leave you all by yourself. She said I was the strong one, I’d made it this far. Kelly hugged me and said to tell you she loved you and that they were gonna be waiting for us.”  

He was staring at you and something flashed in his eyes as he remembered more. “You never told me that.”

“What was an eight year old me gonna say? You’d just lost your wife and daughter. I lost my mother and twin sister. Really I was too traumatized to do much other than work on healing.” you sniffled. 

He didn’t say anything and scooted over to make room on the tiny hospital bed, before patting beside him. You were careful as you climbed up next to him, you didn't want to hurt him more. He pulled you into his side and kissed your head.   

***

You’d taken two weeks off work to help your dad out. During that time you and Hotch texted everyday even if it was just a check in text. You loved your dad but he was stubborn and you vented to Hotch about it.

You: Am I this bad?

Hotch: What happened now?

You: He’s not resting. I threatened to tie him to the couch unless he took it easy. I’m glad Jenny made him take a little vacay but dude chill!

Hotch: Yes, you have a tendency to be just as stubborn. Like father like daughter I suppose.

You: I deserve that. 🤪

Hotch: It’s not always a bad thing.  

You: You wouldn’t say that if you had to deal with me 24-7. 

“(Y/N) Door.” your dad yelled from the kitchen.

“I’ve got it!” 

You: BRB dad needs me.

You jogged downstairs and answered the door, surprised to see Hotch standing on the other side of it.

“Hotch? What are you doing here?”

“Coming to see you. Got a minute?”

You glanced back in the house, “Yeah sure. Dad, I'm stepping outside!” you shouted and stepped onto the porch. “So what brings you over?”

Hotch shifted on his feet seeming almost nervous. 

“Hey whatever it is you can tell me.” you said softly.

“I feel like a teenager asking out his crush.” he chuckled, “Which is in essence what I’m doing. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Great, maybe now you can keep her off my ass about stuff.” Gibbs huffed appearing in the doorway.

“Dad!” 

“I’ll try” Aaron laughed.

[mxchellesworld]

Discuss!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out

Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 

a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!

***

Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 

Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 

Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 

Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 

You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 

“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 

Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 

“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 

“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 

The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 

“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 

He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 

“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 

“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 

“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 

You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 

That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 

You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 

Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 

Got him.

“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 

As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 

For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 

The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 

You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 

“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 

As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 

You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 

Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 

“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 

“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 

“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 

“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 

As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-

“Y/n?” 

The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 

His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 

“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 

“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 

You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 

As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 

You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”

Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 

“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 

“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 

“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 

His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 

“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 

The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 

You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 

“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”

“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 

Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 

“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 

“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 

“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 

“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 

The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 

You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 

You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”

He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 

For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 

Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 

You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 

“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”

“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 

“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 

Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 

“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”

His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 

You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 

The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 

Then a sad look came across his face. 

“Spencer what’s wrong?” 

“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 

“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.

He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 

“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 

[emmys-writing]

Masterlist

Almost all 18+

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST

my nsfw blog - @sparklinspence

I have a discord server!! message me to be invited :)

Introduction and request guidelines-> here

I am taking all my old works and moving them here. The list will be updated as i repost but for now you can continue finding them on my ao3 or my nsfw blog.

♡ Blurbs ♡

Duck Momma Spencer

{Spencer Reid x platonic Penelope Garcia}

summary: Spencer goes on a picnic with penelope but brings home a new little friend

Stealing Aaron’s Shirt

{Aaron Hotchner x Reader}

summary: Reader likes to steal their boyfriends shirts

Pegging Whiny Spencer

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: pretty self explanatory

Nightmares

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: Spencer comforts you after a nightmare

Humping a Pillow

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: You walk in on Spencer humping a pillow

Temporary Tattoos with Spence

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: spencer finds out about temporary tattoos for the first time

Corrupting the Genius

{Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan}

summary: Spencer and Morgan film themselves

Spencer cumming in his pants

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: spencer cums in his pants.

Fluffy Evening With Spencer

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: Spencer and reader have an evening to decompress with face masks, pjs, and movies. overall fluff

♡ Headcannons ♡

Teasing in the workplace {hotchreid}

puppy spence {spencer x reader}

Spencer experiences Subdrop {Spencer x Reader}

Spencer has a crush on you {spencer x reader}

Jealous Spencer {spencer x reader}

wedding night {hotchreid and moreid}

spencer is a weird sleeper {spencer x reader}

titty sucking on the jet {spencer x reader}

♡ One Shots ♡

Boys In Skirts

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

Summary: Spencer Tries a new style

Naughty Boys Finish Themselves

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: Spencer gets caught touching himself

First Times the Charm

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: Reader and Spencer give each other their virginities

Warm Touches

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: reader takes care of spencer when he needs it most

Good Puppy

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: Spencer was a brat all day so Y/N teaches him a lesson

I Can Help

{Spencer Reid x Reader}

summary: You both try out something new

Look At You

{Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner}

summary: Aaron films spencer for when he wakes up

Ballerina

{Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner}

summary: spencer’s jacks ballet instructor

You don’t own me

{Chip Taylor x Reader}

summary: chip is cute but bratty

Cam Kitten

{Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner}

part two coming soon

summary: spencer is a camboy who aaron watches every friday night

Like Rabbits

{Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner x Derek Morgan}

summary: bunny hybrid spencer gets fucked

♡ Series ♡

Beg For Me

{Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid}

summary: Spencer is a Camboy who’s new neighbour watches his shows when he think spencer doesn’t know.

Click here to Read!!!

Finders Keepers

{Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid}

summary: Spencer likes to steal from the department store, Derek catches him.

Click here to Read!!!

Dominant In Training

{Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid}

summary: Hotch is inexperienced, Spencer wants to help him with that.

Click here to Read!!!

Late Night Talking

{Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid}

summary: Spencer, a 23 year old with money troubles, takes a job at the strip club. One of the clubs regulars becomes infatuated with the young dancer.

Click here to Read!!!

[literaila]

hopeless reality

BAU team x reader 

request: Hii! I’m in serious need of some angsty sshhiiiit and I love your writing... Could you maybe write some platonic BAU x reader where the reader is the youngest, idk she can be like 20 or something, and a case goes TERRIBLY wrong and she’s injure dying and everyone’s like but she can’t die, she was supposed to outlive us all!

warnings: kinda sad, panicked everyone, hotch basically abandons all of them, some spoliers past season 6, no concrete ending.. 

a/n: I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS ITS SO DIFFERENT 

*

“I can do it.” 

Those words weren't surprising for any of them. 

As the youngest, Y/N was always looking for new ways to prove herself to all of them. She was used to the staring, and the scoffs people made when they saw her next to the all mighty prestigious BAU team. She was used to people looking at her and wondering if they had picked someone up off of the highway, or if she was a murder just riding along with them. She was used to being undermined and underestimated by everyone. 

Age was a tricky little thing people didn't seem to look past. 

But it wasn't as if she put up with it. When the local police officers were making side remarks about her right behind her back, she didn't keep her mouth shut. Didn't stand there and listen to them expect nothing of her. 

And she enjoyed the looks on their faces when they realized she was listening. She liked the stammered apologies that came out of their mouths while she stared them down. 

She wasn't one to bite her tongue. 

And she had something to prove, to herself and to all of her teammates. She had to show them that she was valuable, that her age didn't affect how much she could do, how much she was willing to do. 

And so, it was expected when she offered herself up like a doll for sale. 

It's what happens during every case. 

This time though, all of her teammates nodded along with her. It was a man closer to her age, only a couple of years older, and she was the most likely to lure him. The most likely to trap him in the prison of being caught. 

“Okay, Y/L/N will go in, Morgan and Rossi follow her in as backup, blend into the crowd.” Everyone awaited Hotch's formal orders, ready to finally be done with the case that had taken them days to solve. “You three need to remember, he's going to be on the lookout for us, he's definitely seen the news by now.” 

The three of them nodded, Y/N already antsy on her feet as she waited to leave. Definitely the most willing to catch him out of anybody else in the room. 

She nodded at the rest of the team, smiling at Garcia’s “See you soon Neptune! Be careful.” from the phone on the table. She grabbed her bag, filled with clothes that would help her fit into the bar scene, and her vest. Just in case. 

She started to walk out the door, trailing after Morgan and Rossi as they got ready to leave when Hotch called her back into the room. 

Everyone else had already left, and her nerves were telling her to continue walking and get to her job, but out of anyone else there, she was used to being pulled back behind. 

“Yeah, Hotch?” 

“You shouldn't hesitate to call in Derek or Dave, this unsub isn't going to stick around if he suspects something. You know that?” 

It took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes at his protective instincts, instead going for a smile, hoping to ease whatever paternal nerves he could be feeling. 

“Course, Hotchner. I know what to do.” 

She nodded at him, choosing not to stay any longer than she had to, saving herself from his double-checking, and reassuring. 

She waved with one of her hands walking out the door. 

*

Wearing a dress and both a bulletproof vest was extremely uncomfortable. Especially when it was supposed to be discreet. 

Y/N sat in the middle of the bar, sipping on a fake drink, throwing smiles to anybody who seemed to look at her, waiting for the one person she needed looks from to approach her. 

She knew what to expect, an alpha male, expecting her to fall under his wing and go with him home- which of course would be when he would torture and murder her like he did all those other girls -and she wasn't going to let herself slip up when he was so close. 

A couple of guys had come up to her already, asking her if she was new around if she needed some help getting home, if she was lost in a bar like this one. All things that she tried not to show disgust at, smiling and telling them she was expecting someone. 

Though, when she saw him, she knew he would be different. 

He was carrying himself differently. Smirking at everyone else, unlike a normal too confident male would. It was more threatening, like he expected everyone in the room to do whatever he said, whenever he said. 

An alpha male. 

Y/N could tell in almost an instant that this was her guy, and that it was time to put on a show. 

*

It was an easy catch. The bait pulled him perfectly. 

And she played the part just as expected. 

Laughing at everything he said, smiling at him whenever she got the opportunity, drinking the drink she knew he was planning to spike soon. 

It was a rehearsed part, one she was exceptional at. 

But, when he started pushing her, begging her to come home with him, promising her that he would make it worth her while, she didn't know what to do. 

With the last girls, he had waited longer, drugged them before he even dared to take them home, stayed at the bar with them so that they would be more comfortable with him. 

But it had only been twenty minutes, only a short minute since he had first looked at her. 

He was devolving too fast. 

Y/N smiled, trying not to let the sudden nerves she felt show in her eyes, trying to keep herself comfortable sitting so close to him. 

She looked over to Derek, who was sitting across the bar, pretending to drink while he listened to their conversation. He was looking back at her, giving her a look that she knew was asking if she was okay, if she knew what to do. He was worried too. 

She took a quiet deep breath in. 

“I haven't finished my drink yet,” she said, playing dumb, trying to act like she was innocent enough, trying to test him. 

“I have plenty of drinks back at my place.” 

She giggled, playing with the bracelet on her wrist, looking back over to Derek. 

“It's so early in the night…” She whispered, flaunting her confidence, playing off her “drunkenness” as best as she could while still smiling at him. 

But she could tell that he was getting impatient, and wasn't willing to wait anymore. 

“What game are you playing?” 

And she could hear his real voice. Not the man that went to strange bars to pick up women, but the man who murdered them as soon as he took them home. The man who was planning to murder her. 

She looked over to Derek once more, once too much. 

The unsub was looking with her, glaring eyes meeting Derek’s, and the reaction was written out in front of all of them. 

He had seen Derek on TV. Seen him with the FBI. 

He turned back around, his hand slipping to his pocket. 

“You’re with them huh?” He was whispering, but his voice was demanding, furious. 

And the giggle that came out Y/N wasn't fake this time, just nervous. 

“What are you talking about?” She asked, her feet tapping on the barstool, her body getting ready to run, trying to smile. 

“The FBI.” 

He spat the words in her face. The smile falling from her lips. 

The hand moving to point at her. 

What was it she wondered? 

What was pain? 

“Physical pain inspires the worst kind of helplessness.” 

*

Ambulances were surprisingly loud. 

Louder than you’d assume. 

They were threatening, and dangerous, and did nothing to help give you hope. 

Derek didn't get scared. He didn't need hope to keep him upright, he wasn't threatened by any of the ambulances that he had seen before, he didn't find them too loud. 

But he was supposed to be protecting her. 

They all knew, going into the bar, before the bar, that it was dangerous. They all knew that there was a strong possibility that she could get hurt. But she was cautious, and she was brave. So he didn't worry. He didn't think he had to worry. Even with an unsub who was known for lashing out, for making big decisions with no thought. Hotch had told Derek, all of them, that this would be harder than normal, that they needed to be more watchful, more careful. 

She’d been laughing with them in the car on the way over. Telling them that if either Derek or Rossi got in the way of her job, she’d disown them as her friends. She’d laughed and joked with them, not an ounce of fear in her eyes, no anxiety resting upon her body.

But he saw that look in her eyes. 

That strange scared look. 

It was unfamiliar, an anomaly to him. He’d never seen her eyes like that. 

She was the youngest, the most daring, the person who offered to do anything that no one else wanted to. 

She laughed when one of them said they were too tired to go out for drinks, offered to watch both Hotch and JJ kids when they were busy. She moved between them like she was mending with them, and she was everyone's best friend. 

She took too many risks, moved too fast, thought too hard. She did everything on a whim, but it was impossible to stop her. Impossible to fade her from the scene. Impossible for anything to scare her like it would any person. 

He’d never had to worry about her before. 

She’d made it clear that she could take care of herself, that she was strong, that just because she was the youngest and most inexperienced, it didn't mean she couldn't do what any one of them could. 

She was so strong. 

And he’d never seen that look in her eyes before. 

Desperation, trepidation. Two things that had never filled his body like in that moment. 

He could see the unsub moving, he could see her worried eyes, her panicked posture. He saw everyone else around them, moving normally, none of them quite as scared as she was. He saw Rossi looking over at him from the bar. 

And he saw the gun in the unsubs hands. 

He wished he had been paying attention more, watching her, checking to make sure she seemed just fine. He wished he had watched the unsub, checked to make sure he couldn't see any weapons on him. He wished that he could’ve done it all over again, asked her to step back, to let him catch the guy. 

And he wished he could’ve been fast enough. 

The unsub had pulled out the gun, had stared at her with his threatening eyes, and she moved back, tried to get away but, she wasn't fast enough, and the unsub was too quick. 

Derek had watched her stumble backward. He watched the pain light in her eyes and the panic fade out. 

She used to tease him about watching everything. 

“We aren't at work, you don't have to profile everyone in the room, Derek.” 

Then she’d pass him a drink. Tell him that it was supposed to be fun, that they all needed a little more fun in their lives. 

But now, all Derek needed was to get her eyes out of his head. 

Her eyes were so desperate and panicked and worried for everyone, for everything. Her eyes were usually so brave and so curious. 

He needed to get them out of his head, he needed this moment to be over. 

He needed to not be sitting in the back of an ambulance with her. 

It was surprisingly loud. 

And scary. 

He’d never been scared like this before. 

*

Rossi wasn't worried. 

He wasn't. Really. 

He knew her, knew how fast her body would spring back, rejuvenate itself. He knew that she was strong, that she could stand any amount of pain, that when he saw her next she would be smiling, and she’d ask him if this meant they could have a party. 

He knew she’d be fine. 

He wasn't allowed to go in the ambulance with Y/N and Derek. The paramedics assured both him and Derek that only one could go, and Rossi could see the time slipping past them. He could see the clock ticking and he knew that they had to speed things up. 

So, he’d pushed Derek into the ambulance. 

He wasn't worried, so why would he go with her? 

Besides, Derek was scared. He was shut down and focused so much on her, Rossi thought that Derek would have fought him for the place in the ambulance. 

He thought about all the people he’d seen get hurt while working this job. Thought about all the times one of them made a mistake, or someone wasn't quick enough. Most of the time, they were fine. Not many people got hurt on the job. 

There was always a couple weeks of leave, a couple weeks to get themselves back together, but they always came back. 

He hadn't seen too many people die. 

So he wasn't worried. The odds were that she would live. The odds were that she would be completely fine by the time he got to the hospital. 

Because she was strong. She was healthy, had a young body, and more energy than she needed in the first place. 

Rossi thought it might be good for her to slow down. This might be a good experience for someone like her. Someone who takes too many risks, goes out on a whim, and doesn't slow down even when she has the chance. 

This might help her become a better agent. Someone more careful. 

He wasn't worried. 

She’d be fine. 

Really. 

*

JJ got the news first. 

Back at the police department, while they were clearing up. She knew that Derek, Hotch, and Rossi all knew. She knew that the unsub had clued into who Y/N was, she knew that Derek and Rossi hadn't been enough to protect her. She knew that Y/N was on her way to the hospital, that she’d been shot in the field. 

They didn't tell her where. Or how she was doing. 

JJ had been here before. She had been in the situation of not knowing, of constant anxiety, of the questions that just bang back and forth in your head until you can get your answers. 

She knew how that felt. 

She looked over to Spencer and Emily, both of them clueless to what was going on, to their friend being brought to the hospital. 

“Have you got the unsub detained?” She whispered, leaving the room, trying to gather all of the facts before she made assumptions. 

“Yes. He's on his way to the police station now.” 

“And no one else was hurt?” 

“No.” 

JJ nodded to herself, feeling relieved at the news. 

The questions were in her head, spinning around. She knew that she wouldn't have any of them answered any time soon. Not until they could get into the hospital and see her. 

“And JJ?” 

Hotch’s voice was the same as always. Demanding. 

“Yes?” 

“I need you to tell Spencer and Emily.” 

“Hotch-” 

“I’ve got to go.” 

And then she was left. With her news. And her questions. 

And her confusion. 

Of how this could ever have happened. 

*

Hotch wasn't allowed to have a reaction. He wasn't allowed to think about it. 

He was working. He had to do his job. 

Members of his team had been shot before. 

They all knew the risk there was in going in. They all knew how disguises couldn't hide everything. And they all knew that people got hurt doing the job. 

It wasn't surprising. Wasn't anything new. 

But she had reassured him. She had told him she knew what she was doing, she knew what she was doing. 

He had believed her. 

He could hear his voice in her head, telling all of them that she would do it. Like she always did. Like every other time, she got the chance. 

She never took a step back, never looked at the situation before offering to go. 

It was reckless and stupid. 

No one ever said a thing. When she offered to be the bait, all of them accepted it, expected it. They all knew that she would be the first to jump at the chance to go out in the field. They all knew that she was smart and strong, and she knew what she was doing. 

None of them ever said no. It was so hard to say no to her. 

But she had reassured him, Hotch had double-checked this time, just to make sure she would be safe. He put two experienced agents as her back up, two people that he trusted and knew would protect her. 

“I can do it.” 

She could do it. 

She’d been shot. 

And he felt like blaming himself, felt like being angry, furious at her for offering to go, for reassuring him and lying, and he felt like being angry at himself for letting him go, for not properly preparing her. 

But he didn't have time to ponder those thoughts. 

He didn't have the time. 

He couldn't have a reaction. 

He had a job to do. 

He was working. 

He wouldn't think of it. 

*

Emily probably knew better than anyone else. 

She was probably most familiar with pain. With hurt. 

She knew how this would affect her, she knew how she would feel. She knew how it would change her even after she was healed. She knew how the scar would never leave her body, and that she would wince every time she saw it. 

No matter how much Emily wished she wouldn't understand, she did. 

She knew what would happen to Y/N. 

If she lived that is. If she was strong enough, if the bullet wasn't stronger than her. If she wasn't too late, if the doctors could save her. If she would stay alive. 

And she would be there this time. 

If she died. If the world was cruel enough to take her away. 

She would have to be with her friends, she wasn't allowed to run away again. She wasn't allowed to go across the world and break alone, she wasn't allowed to turn her back like she had before. Even if she wanted to. Even if running away seemed like the only thing she could do. She would stand by them, and learn what it felt like to have your friend die. 

But she wouldn't come back. 

That was probably the hardest thought. 

If Y/N died, she wouldn't have the opportunity to come back. She wouldn't have the months to heal, the job across the world, she would have the pain of knowing that her friends thought she was dead, but she also wouldn't have any pain. 

She’d be dead. Gone. Forever. 

And Emily knew what that meant. 

It almost killed her to know that. 

When she watched Spencer freeze as JJ told both of them, when she saw the worry in JJ’s eyes, she knew that the only thing she could do was be there for all of them. For her, if she could. And for them, if she had to. 

It was a scary thing to know your friend was hurt. To know that while everything else in the world stayed the same, several hearts were breaking with the knowledge of the pain their friend was in. It was crazy to think that not everyone's world changed. 

It was selfish of her to be thinking of herself, to be avoiding the memories and the thought that came with Y/N being dead. It was selfish to assume she was. It was selfish that she wasn't doing anything to help her friends, to help herself. It was terrible of her not to hope, not allow herself to feel some relief. 

But she had to protect herself. 

Expect the worse, welcome the best. 

Emily was scared. She was scared for Y/N, scared to be there this time, scared to have to hold everyone together like she couldn't before. Scared for the worse to be the reality. For her friend to really be gone. 

She could hear her laugh in her head. She knew that it wouldn't leave. It wouldn't go away until Emily could hear it again. 

Pain. 

She was so familiar with. She was so used to. 

Pain. 

Emily probably knew that better than anyone else. 

*

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

That's all Spencer knew. 

He didn't know what was going to happen, if she would live, if she would die, if she was okay, if she wasn't. He didn't know what they would do without her, what would happen if she really did die, if the youngest died before any of the oldest could. 

He didn't know how everyone would feel, how he would feel if she died. 

He didn't know what any of them would do without her laughter, without her pushing for them to have fun when work was over, without her running around the office, making everything seem bright when it was nothing but dim. 

He didn't know what would happen. What was happening? 

But he knew

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

He knew that if he could see her, if he had more information about what had happened, he could figure out the probability that she would live. He knew that if he had been there, he would know how to feel, what was going to happen. 

But they were sitting in the hospital waiting room. They couldn't see her yet. 

Derek hadn't said a word. Emily was sitting next to Spencer. JJ was walking around, checking on all of them instead of herself, being as selfless as she could while they were all stuck in a state of panic. 

Rossi was talking to the nurse again. 

There still wasn't any news. 

None of them were sure how she could’ve been hurt, with her vest, and her self defense techniques. None of them were sure how hurt she could be. 

But 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

Spencer held onto that. 

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. She wouldn't. 

He thought of the sleepovers Y/N, Garcia, and he had. Like children. He thought of how both of them spent the entire night picking on him, trying to make him laugh. He thought of how she always convinced the two of them to come over, told them that it was movie night even if it was a completely random day. 

He hated the thought of not doing that anymore. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She was the youngest. Everyone teased her about it. They all expected her to live for a hundred years, far longer than any of them could. She was the youngest and the brightest and the bravest. She wasn't supposed to die before any of them could. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

When she had offered to be the bait, Spencer hadn't felt worried. He didn't even think of her getting hurt, only felt relieved that this case would finally be over, that they could all go home. He didn't worry at all. 

But he should have. 

Because she always did this, she always offered, and no one ever turned her down. The odds were that she should’ve gotten hurt long before this. 

Odds were that she was extremely lucky. 

Except for now. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

Spencer didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if she would live, if she would die. He didn't know what would happen. He barely knew anything at all. 

But Derek wasn't talking, Emily was silent, JJ was avoiding the topic, and Rossi had asked the nurse for an update eight times in the last thirty minutes. 

He didn't know. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She wouldn't be one of the hundred. 

She couldn't. 

*

Before JJ had told her, Penelope knew something was off. 

No one had called her to update on if they had got him or not. Her phone had been completely silent. 

That was off. 

She called her Neptune. 

It was one of the planets that couldn't be seen from Earth. 

She’d always asked where the nickname had come from. 

Penelope had called her that because Y/N was unreachable to her. She held so much, all this brightness, and you could barely even tell from the surface. 

It was a nickname that seemed to fit her more than anything else. 

And she couldn't help but think of it as soon as she got the call. 

Neptune. Her best friend. 

She didn't understand much about profilers, but she knew that Y/N was different from all of her other friends. She didn't know if it was because she was younger, and less experienced, or if she just carried something different to her. 

But it was a smart decision to be her best friend, to depend on her. 

They’d spent nights together, laughing, creating insanity with every sentence, every hour that ticked past on the clock. They’d spent time laughing, and crying, learning everything they could about each other. 

‘Best friend’ was a loose term, one that didn't extend far enough for their relationship. 

And Penelope had known something was wrong, as soon as no one had called her. 

The first thought was that the unsub had gotten away, that he was going somewhere else and they still had to catch him. 

But she knew that wasn't true, because they hadn't called her to help. 

And then she thought that maybe he had been difficult, that maybe it was taking all of the team to help deal with him. 

But, that didn't seem quite right. 

And then she thought of all the other times something like this had happened, when she hadn't gotten a phone call, and there was nothing but silence for a couple of hours. 

And all she could think of, was the day Emily almost died. 

And then the bullet Spencer had taken to the leg. 

And then the stabbing Hotch had been through. 

For Penelope, after those thoughts, she didn't have any choice but to find out where they were. 

So, she hacked their phones. 

It wasn't completely rational, but Penelope had never proved to do things that were rational before. And she was far too protective to not do anything. 

JJ’s phone showed up at the police department they were working from. So did Emily and Spencers. Hotch was somewhere across town. Rossi was still at the bar, and Derek was at the nearby Emergency Room. 

By the time she had gotten to Y/N, she knew something was wrong. 

One of them was hurt. 

*

When she finally got the phone call, she had already pulled some of her hair out, stalked the news, tried to hack into the hospital's patient list- which she couldn't because not all of it was digital -and bitten off almost all of her nails. 

JJ had told her, just like JJ always did, informing all of them the best she could. 

And they didn't know enough. 

Penelope had no idea how her best friend was, and even though she’d asked over and over, what had happened, JJ didn't have any answers for her. 

It was a stupid situation. 

Penelope hoped she wasn't hurt. That the bullet hadn't gotten anywhere near anything important, that she would live just as Penelope had years ago. 

If she had lived, so could Y/N. 

She was young and strong and she had been wearing a vest, and there was nothing wrong with her, if they didn't know anything it was good. It was good that no one had told them anything. 

That meant she wasn't dead yet. 

And that's all Penelope had to hold onto. 

She called her Neptune. Because she was unreachable. 

She would be fine. 

*

Her eyes. They looked so scared. Derek was so scared. 

She would be fine. Rossi knew. 

JJ didn't know how this could have happened. 

He wouldn't think of it. He was working. 

Emily knew better than anyone else. 

38,000 people in America die of gunshot wounds each year. 

An average of 100 a day. 

She called her Neptune. 

She was the youngest out of all of them. 

She had to be okay. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[galaxyofmyown]

Hi!! I'm not sure if you'll take it (and that's 100% okay!!) but as a request can you write hotch x younger, shy reader? I'm just all about that age gap with him (yes, that's my daddy issues speaking up). Have a nice day!! ❤

hi! this was so fun to write. i was aiming for like, idk, 500 words? and then oops! i wrote almost 2000. i accidentally made it specifically for a female reader, so let me know if that doesn’t work for you and i can tweak it. also, sorry if the end feels rushed, but i’m about to fall asleep and i wanted to wrap this one up so i could write the other requests tomorrow. let me know what you think! xx

aaron hotchner x reader - surprise me

“Hey, (Y/N). Drinks? Everyone’s going.” You hear Derek ask. You smile before spinning around in your desk chair.

“God, yes. I was hoping you’d ask, I really need to blow off some steam.” You reply, getting up and grabbing your bag, having already packed up for the night. The team had just gotten back from Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas, and to say the case was intellectually challenging was an understatement. It felt a lot like piecing together a never-ending puzzle, but you had saved the lives of countless innocent people. There was no better feeling.

Drinking is a close second, however, which is why you were impatiently pacing near the elevator as the rest of your team gathered their things. As soon as everyone arrived, you filed into the elevator.

“You look excited, (Y/N).” Emily said with a smile, knocking her shoulder into yours. You laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Any excuse to spend more time with my favorite group of people!” You say, your voice taking on a teasing tone as you poke a pink-polished finger into Reid’s side. Reid yelps and jumps away, blushing slightly. The rest of the team laughs, Morgan reaching to ruffle his hair. You smile at the sight. They were truly a second family to you. The elevator doors were nearly closed when a large hand reached in and caused the doors to jerk and reopen.

And there he was.

Your boss, Aaron Hotchner. You tensed despite yourself as he slid in right next to you. Rossi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nice of you to join us.” He said. Hotch nodded, professional as ever. Everyone looked as surprised as you felt.

“You’re coming out with us, sir? You never come.” Garcia said, not unkindly. You all understood his commitment to his son, so you couldn’t really blame him for always being too busy for drinks. Unlike everyone else, your surprise was less pleasant and more panicked. Even though you’d been on the team for well over a year, you still found it extremely difficult to talk to Hotch outside of a case.

It might have something to do with you being head over heels for the older man.

“Jack is with his aunt for the weekend, so JJ convinced me to tag along. I hope that’s alright with everyone.” He said, looking directly at you. You nod and force a tight smile, missing the way your discomfort makes his brows furrow.

There goes your plan to let loose. You can’t help but monitor every word, every movement you make when you’re around Hotch. You found him attractive the moment you met him, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you realized you actually had feelings for the man. You loved how caring and loyal he was, and you appreciated every smile and laugh he allowed himself. He was also a natural leader, solid in a way no other man in your life had been. You understood, however, that Hotch would never settle for someone as young and inexperienced as you. Aside from the odd celebrity crush, you had never felt so attracted to an older man. It left you floundered, constantly at a loss for words. He probably thought you were an immature girl who couldn’t control her feelings at 28.

You rode with Emily to the bar, who couldn’t stop laughing at your nerves. She was your best friend, so she knew all about your unfortunate crush. Hopefully she was the only one.

“He’s really a nice guy, (Y/N). Not intimidating at all. Well, not when you actually talk to him. You should try it sometime.” She said, pulling the bar door open for you. You rolled your eyes.

“I do talk to him. That’s the problem. The more I’m around him the more likely it is that I die of a broken heart. Do you want me to die, Prentiss? Is that what you want?” You said. Emily barks out a laugh at your theatrics. Your conversation is cut short as you approach the large round booth your team is occupying for the night. Emily sneaks over to sit next to Rossi, leaving only the seat next to Hotch. She smiles with false sweetness and you slide in across from her, and you kick her lightly under the table. You stay as close to the edge of the seat as you can manage, trying your hardest not to impinge on Hotch’s personal space.

You’re about to ask if anyone wants a drink when Hotch slides your favorite drink, a Moscow Mule, over to you.

“It’s your favorite, right?” Hotch asks, his voice soft over the noise of the bar. You falter. How did he know that? You probably haven’t ordered a drink in front of him in months.

“Um, uh, yeah. Thank you.” You say. He nods curtly. You both turn away from each other, and you sip at your drink, hoping it’ll take the edge off soon enough. 

Despite the pleasant conversation you have with your team, you can’t shake your nerves. Three drinks deep and still feeling like you’ve had the breath knocked out of you every time you see Hotch laugh.

“So, Hotch. Anyone special in your life?” Garcia asks boldly, trying to shake the attention off her and her current love life.

Nope. Not happening. You get up from the table abruptly, shaking the table slightly as you do so. Great, now everyone is looking at you.

“Um. Anybody want another drink?” You ask. JJ requests another vodka soda and Hotch politely asks for a beer. You never drink beer, but you’re too nervous to ask which kind. You rush off to the bar, where a bartender about your age is wiping down the counter.

“Hi! Can I get a vodka soda, a glass of water, and a beer, please?” You ask, feeling your nerves dissolve. The bartender looks up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“What kind of beer?” He asks. You shrug, defeated.

“Honestly, just surprise me.” You say. He smiles, clearly amused, and turns to get your drinks. You don’t even notice someone approaching until you hear a familiar voice clear his throat.

“(Y/N).” He says. You turn, trying not to shy away as Hotch towers over you.

“Yes?” You say, willing your voice to not sound squeaky.

“Can we talk?” He asks, pulling at his tie. 

Fuck.

“Sure. Let me just…” You trail off, motioning at the bartender. Hotch nods in understanding. Just as he does, the bartender slides the drinks over to you. Hotch grabs JJ’s drink and walks it over to her. Emily sends you a suggestive look from across the room. You flip her off and turn to the bartender.

“Please add these to Emily Prentiss’ tab. That’s P-R-E-N-T-I-S-S.” You say, and the bartender laughs.

“No problem, um-” He says. You smile.

“(Y/N).” You say, filling in his blank.

“Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He says before being flagged down by another customer.

You turn around with your water and Hotch’s beer, only to bump right into the older man.

“Jesus fuck!” You exclaim as ice water stings your hand. Hotch laughs, a deep rumbling sound that completely entrances you.

“Sorry.” He says, freeing up one of your hands by taking his beer.

“I hope you like that kind. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” You say, trying for a smooth recovery. Hotch nods appreciatively.

“This is perfect,” He says, and you unclench slightly, “could we talk outside? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You nod, and he guides you out of the bar with his hand on your elbow. The crisp evening air takes some over the edge off. Hotch leans against the brick wall and you do the same. You’re only illuminated by the purple neon “open” sign hanging over you.

“I wanted to apologize.” Hotch blurts out, taking you by surprise. You tilt your head to the side, asking a silent question. Hotch almost dies on the spot.

“I- I’ve acted inappropriately towards you, and for that I apologize. I value your expertise and think you’re an invaluable member of this team. I never intended to make you uncomfortable.” He says in a rush, throwing you completely off guard. It takes you a moment to remember how to talk, but when you do all that comes out is-

“What are you talking about?”

Hotch runs a hand through his hair and smiles, but it looks painful.

“Please, (Y/N), don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“That I have feelings for you.”

And then you wake up.

Well, this is the part where you should wake up, but you’re still here, outside with Hotch. Hotch. Aaron Hotchner. Who likes you.

“What?” You said, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Hotch smiles again, resigned.

“Please. You must’ve noticed. I haven’t been exactly inconspicuous. And again, I’m sorry. It must make you very uncomfortable for someone more advanced than you in both age and position to be so blatant in their feelings for you.”

“What is happening?” You whisper, mostly to yourself. “You- you like me?” You ask as if he hasn’t made it obvious enough. Hotch actually has the audacity to look ashamed as he nods. After you’ve had a moment to process, you can’t help the world-stopping, blinding smile that graces your face. You tentatively reach for his hand. Hotch looks up at you in disbelief as you entwine your fingers with him.

“(Y/N)?” He asks carefully, not fully trusting the scene unfolding before him.

“I had no idea,” You say, feeling elated, “I always thought I was the one being obvious about my feelings.”

Hotch jerks his hand away, and your face falls.

“But- you shouldn’t have any feelings. Not for me.” He says, his face turning stony before your eyes. 

“Why not?”

“Because, (Y/N)! I’m too old for you. I can’t give you what I want. You deserve to be with someone your age, someone who can give you all of his time.” He says, taking a step away from you. You take another step towards him.

“Hey, no. Is your name Aaron Hotchner?” You ask, pulling him towards you.

“What? Yes.” He says, clearly confused. You slowly and gently take his face in your hands, bringing his forehead down to yours.

“Then you are what I want, Aaron.” You whisper, the name tasting sweet in your mouth. Hotch practically melts, pulling you into a hug by your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck and revel in the warmth of his body and fast beat of his heart. 

“(Y/N), my darling girl,” He says softly, pulling back slightly. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod eagerly, and he pulls you to him. He kisses the way he loves, carefully yet passionately. When you pull away you feel like a new woman, and you wrap your arms around him once again.

“You are amazing.” He says, his words warming you even more than his touch. You kiss him again.

“Let’s go home, Aaron.” You say. And you do.

[stunudo]

That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fanfiction 2/?

A/N: I am so humbled by the amount of love the first part of this new Spencer x Reader story has received. I do not own any characters, lyrics or images. xoxo Stu

***Update: I wanted to apologize with the chronological error I originally made in a paragraph about Hotch. It had Haley and Jack in Witness Protection too soon. A genuine thank you to everyone for not being judgemental about it, it has been fixed! xoxo Stu***

Inspiration: Katy Perry’s ‘The One That Got Away’ and Darlin’ Companion sung by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash

Setting: Season 4      Rating: Teen    Warnings: Grief, Teen Angst, Bad Kissing

Spencer Reid had held Y/N until she had cried herself to sleep on the floor of her hotel room. He very carefully covered her half-naked form, cushioning her head with extra pillows from the bed they hadn’t made it to. He remained there, watching her sleep, the gentle rising of her back a hypnotic rhythm. Spencer did not want to leave her, but she needed more rest than he had time to give. He sat at the oddly placed desk, found the hotel stationary and prepared to write Y/N a confession.

Hotch had the hotel issue wake up calls for the BAU team at 6:30am. Spencer had made it back to his (much simpler) hotel room around two in the morning. The four hours of sleep left the doctor with an anxious stomach. After showering and dressing in a very typical Reid ensemble; he headed to the lobby. It was there he, naturally, bumped into Prentiss at the coffee cart.

“Morning Emily,” Spencer’s soft voice greeted the black haired beauty.

“Well, well, good morning, Reid,” Prentiss teased, feigning surprise in seeing him.

He remained patient, anticipating all the inevitable questions he would be fielding after leaving the team at the precinct to return Y/N’s luggage the previous night. His utter exhaustion was ensuring a shorter temper than was strictly professional.

“Late night?” Prentiss pressed after taking her coffee from the barista.

“You could say that,” Spencer nodded, his voice cracking. “How was your evening?”

“Mine?” Prentiss sighed, “Wild night. I took a bath and passed out to the hotel access channel.” She waxed sarcastically. “See you by the cars, Reid.”

Spencer placed his order, thanking the barista with a slight tilt to his head. He noticed Hotch near the entryway, speaking on his cell phone. Hotch was on edge with The Reaper in the wind. Spencer felt awful for him, knowing Hotch had lost his marriage to the job already. A tenuous situation was that much more paralyzing for someone like BAU chief Aaron Hotchner, someone who had to be in control.

The team assembled into the waiting SUVs and returned to Pasadena Police Department shortly after 7:30 am. The team dispersed into the previous decided assignments; Reid and Prentiss going through Y/L/N’s contacts and research. Just after 8 o’clock, a distinguished man in his fifties was escorted to the office the BAU had annexed for the case, by Detective Chang.

“Agents,” Chang announced,”This gentleman claims to be the guy who wrote the threatening letter sent to Dr. Y/L/N last month.”

“Who are you?” Emily Prentiss approached the new suspect.

“Byron Osbourne, ma’am,” the man nodded to the female agent with an English lilt to his voice. “I saw the press coverage footage this morning and knew I had to come forward before anything got out of hand.”

“Dr. Y/L/N is dead,” Spencer uncharacteristically spat at the man,”I would say we are passed out of hand.”

Agent Prentiss eyed Dr. Reid suspiciously. She then formally arrested and cuffed Mr. Osbourne. After reading his Miranda Rights, she passed him to the stocky lead detective who escorted him to interrogation room 1.

Spencer was quick to make the call to Quantico. “Garcia? We need background on one Byron Osbourne, a possible British national. He just voluntarily admitted to writing the suspicious letter Dr. Madison mentioned that Graham received nearly a month ago.”

“Good Morning, to you too, Boy Wonder,” Garcia grumbled. “I am all over this, but in the mean time... “How’s your reunion going?” The savvy analyst coyly pounced on the inexperienced doctor.

“I am going to hang up now,” Spencer responded testily, “And catch the unsub that killed my mentor.”

“But!” Garcia couldn’t use her vicious wit against a grumpy and determined Reid.

At some point during the night, you had found your way into your excessively large bed. Your body was stiff from traveling and sleeping on the unforgivably flat surface of the hotel room floor. The inside of your head was inflamed from dehydration, your chest gaping with the hollowness of grief.

The only reason you made yourself get out of bed for the day was because you knew you had absolutely no reason to do so. Across the pillow tops, you recognize the scrawl on a folded piece of paper Spencer left for you on the bedside table. You leave it, knowing that whatever he had to say could wait.

“But Aristotle didn’t say that,” Spencer argued, “That is attributed to Plato.”

“Sorry, Professor,” Your 18 year old self teased,”Ancient Philosophy isn’t on my course schedule until spring semester.”

Spencer had stopped over on a Tuesday afternoon the second summer you knew him. You were clearing the debris from your built in swimming pool, one of the many chores your Dad made you help with. You obliged because you were, in fact, the only one who used said pool.

“I’m just surprised you got that quote wrong.” Spencer twisted his lips in a smug smile.

You eyed him, shaking your head at his taunts. “Watch it, or you’ll end up in my net too.” You intended to whip a trail of pool water at the skinny genius, but he had hopped backwards, avoiding your wrath. You, however, lost control of the momentum along the length of the net, which knocked you off balance. You fell into the pool, fully clothed.

You remember the dread of trying to act normal when internally you were freaking out over the pair of black granny panties you had on underneath your now soaked khaki shorts. You stayed in the pool, chatting and cleaning until Spencer had to leave for the day. He always had to leave quickly, it was almost like he was sneaking over to see you. Though you knew your dad was fine with you spending time with his young protegee, you guessed your dad knew you didn’t interest Spencer that way.

You remember waving at him from the shallow end of the pool, as he walked his bike out of the side gate.

Morgan and Rossi were waiting for the M.E. to bring them back to examine the body of the late Professor Y/L/N, Y/N’s father.

“Oh, Baby Girl, please tell me you got some dirt for me!” Derek Morgan crooned into his phone.

“Easy there handsome,” Garcia directed. “I’ll give you work now, and need-to-know later.”

“That’s my girl!” Derek chuckled. His brilliant smile lighting up the dreary corner’s office.

“Byron Osbourne just confessed to writing that threatening letter to Dr. Y/L/N. Hotch and Prentiss are going to question him, very soon.”

“Garcia, who is this guy?” Rossi chimed in.

“He’s, well he’s, a wannabe,” Garcia confided,” He comes from money, old British money to be exact. He uses philanthropy to strut his family name about academia. But he never finished “university” himself.” She finished in her own mock accent.

“Wonder what the professor did to set this guy off.” Rossi supposed.

“Penelope,” Derek added, “Were the victim and Osbourne on any boards or committees together?”

“Oh sugar bear, you know I am all over that like a cardigan is on grumpus Reid,” Garcia muttered,”Hotch and Emily already have what they need. Now do you have time for the need-to-know? Or do we get to rendezvous later?”

“Later, Baby Girl, sadly I have a very different body to go examine,” Derek lamentably flirted. “Just warn me if this one is off the rails.”

“Nope, peaches, you’re good. I mean, Reid is good, “Garcia bumbled, “Well, who knows if that’s true, then. I’m going to stop thinking and talking now. Okay? Okay, bye!”

Rossi looked at Derek sideways, “That woman is very multi-faceted.”

“Oh, Rossi, you have no idea, man,” Derek agreed, shaking his head.

You had slowly gotten dressed. Remarkably you were early enough to make the tail end of the complimentary continental breakfast buffet held in the small nook off of the hotel lobby. You rifled through the remaining stale doughnuts, claiming a chocolate cake flavored one, that was calling your name. The ambience was perfect there, the warm sun coming through the skylights. You lied to yourself, pretending you were vacationing for a few quiet moments.

Your phone buzzed beside your mug of bland coffee. You check the name before answering.

OLIVIA MADISON

“Olivia, how are you,” You answer quickly.

“Y/N, hi, how are you?!” Olivia rushed back.

“As good as can be expected, I suppose.” You recite.

You make small talk and arrange to take lunch the following day. Cal Tech’s spring break was over, so Olivia would be lecturing for your father’s senior seminar in the morning. Your stomach lurched at the image. As another female nontenured professor in academia, you respect the shoes that Olivia has been asked to fill. You would be excited for her, if it weren’t so devastating.

Spencer had just left his mother with a therapy group she had been attending for the summer months. He was finding it harder and harder to balance school and care for his mother as her disease progressed. The long summer days found him yearning for a more normal life, a less complicated, a less responsibility-riddled life. He rode his bike on the familiar route to Y/N’s house. Spending time with her made him feel like a regular seventeen year old guy, not a prodigy, not a caregiver. She was intelligent, funny and so easy to talk to. Y/N was a geek, too, a sheltered only child with a single father who was a celebrated Mathematics professor.

“Oh, a little saucy mare like you should have a steed. Oh, a little bridlin' down from you is what I need.

Darlin' companion, I tell the mountains and the canyons, Long as I got legs to stand on, I'm gonna stick by you.”

The crackling recording poured through the Y/L/N house as Spencer pedaled up the welcoming driveway. He knew that you were home alone, Dr. Y/L/N would never let you keep the speakers at that high of a volume. He left his bike near the back door that lead into the kitchen. The door was unlocked, so Spencer went in to find Y/N.

This was always when he began to panic, the time between entering their house and finding Y/N. Spencer scratched his neck as he made his way up the winding staircase in the house’s cavernous center. He wiped his palms on his pants and continued towards her room. The song had finished leaving the hum of the speakers awaiting the cd change in the air. Spencer cleared his throat, his head down as he knocked on the door frame to her bedroom.

The door was ajar, he didn’t hear Y/N inside as the next cd began. He knocked again as he pushed the door open, strolling into the room. Spencer froze, he had no idea how to move. There she was, on the bed, sitting on a bath towel, rubbing lotion on her outstretched leg. Completely naked. His prodigious mind was useless as his pants constricted around his sudden boner.

“Spencer!” You screeched when you finally saw him. “What the hell?!” You struggled with the towel beneath your butt, trying to cover your bare body.

Spencer spun on the spot, but didn’t flee. He just started reciting facts. “Did you know that many people attribute the model Betty Grable as the inspiration for women to start shaving their legs? The shorter skirts of the forties and stockings made it more desirable for women to emulate the style icon...”

“Spencer,” You shouted. “It’s okay, um, I’m covered now.” You had shut off the deafening grunge band that had followed the Man in Black. Spencer just stood there with his back to you. After a moment he sort of side stepped to the desk chair, where he crossed his legs. Finally he looked at your face. You were both blushing and couldn’t hold eye contact. You had thrown on your awful yellow terrycloth robe.

“Did you try “Margaret Thatcher” to cool him down?” You asked out of nowhere. You slapped your hand over your mouth. Why did you always say what was on your mind?

Spencer open his mouth to respond, then closed it. He thumbed his nose and sheepishly answered. “I don’t think I understand that reference, Y/N.”

“Ignore me, it was from a movie, when this British spy was trying to stop an erection,” You tried to explain, like you always did with pop culture to Spencer. “And I just said erection. Again.” You finally stopped talking. After a few agonizing minutes, you sat down on your bed.

“Spencer?” You asked, cautiously. Remarkably he hadn’t left, you both had just sat there looking around your bedroom and not at each other.

“Yeah?” He replied, his voice faint.

“I am very flattered.” You admit. “Is that alright to say? Like, I know it is does not prove anything, it’s just a thing that happens to guys and it does not reflect my level of attractiveness or not-attractiveness...”

“Y/N/N?” Spencer interrupted your rambling.

“Yeah?” You ask, your face growing warm and your chest feeling tight.

“I am sorry, that was rude of me to walk in without a confirmed invitation,” Spencer was talking to the pile of clothes on the floor. “Also, I want to apologize if I in any way offended you or jeopardized our friendship by making unintentional advances towards you. I just could not help it, honestly you took my breath away.”

What? Your brain was repeating the last words he spoke like a broken answering machine, ‘you took my breath away’. Shocked could not cover the amount of surprise that was flowing through your bloodstream at that moment.

“So you’re not like, traumatized?” You push, “Like seeing me, all of me, doesn’t change how you feel? Is it going to be weird now?”

Spencer, cleared his throat. “It only makes me care about you that much more.” He actually looked at you now, his brown eyes searching for yours. But he only holds your glance for a second, because this is so new, so unique for two friends to overcome in a few moments’ time. He smiles nervously, you are stuck in place as a ribbon of hope is sliding through your mind.

“Spencer, can I kiss you?” You said it, out loud. “I mean, is that something that would interest you? Am I a girl that you would like to, with, maybe?” In the entirety of your friendship you had not heard him mention girls like the guys on the floor of your dorm did, this was not a weird question.

Spencer blushed. “Am I a guy you would like to kiss? Or is this a test?”

“Not a test,” You held up your hands in mock surrender, smiling nervously. You stood up, walking towards your friend, who was now one of the only people to have seen you naked. Spencer stands up as you approach him, backing up into your clutter filled desk.

“Um, Y/N, I don’t know if we should be doing this.” Spencer’s hand was pulling at his hair, his voice catching.

“Spencer, can I kiss you?” You asked, but it was stronger than the first time. You wanted this and you were not getting reasoned out of it now.

“I don’t know how,” Spencer whispered.

You caught his bony face in your hand, looking up into his scared eyes you smiled, calming both of you for a split second. You took a deep breath and leaned in to him, with eyes closed and heart on your sleeve. After kissing his chin, you found his lips, his large hands were resting oddly on your shoulders. This went down in your shared history as the most awkward moment of your lives.

”The murder weapon appears to be a long, metallic, needle like instrument, about four inches long.” Dr. Shearer stated.

Morgan and Rossi were taking notes. Dr. Y/L/N was a typical guy in his fifties, he could have been one of Rossi’s buddies from his days in the Marines. The agents were being extremely diligent, for Reid’s sake.

”How many stab wounds were there?” Rossi verified.

”Thirty-seven.” Dr. Shearer replied.

”And no defensive wounds, Doc?” Morgan double checked.

“Correct.” Dr. Shearer answered. “The tox screen does show a decent amount of alcohol in his blood, but not over the legal limit. Perhaps he was asleep when the assailant struck, agents.”

”It’s possible, but he was sitting up right at his desk.” Rossi countered.

”No, that tracks; no defensive wounds, late night, maybe he had someone over for a night cap?” Derek worked further.

”What kind of strength did our unsub have?” Rossi went back to the coroner.

”Moderate, nothing impressive.”

”Are we looking for a female unsub?” Rossi asked cautiously.

“Mr. Osbourne, can you tell us why you would send such a violent letter to Dr. Y/L/N’s office?” Hotch asked succinctly.

“Well, frankly, I am extremely embarrassed about it now, as you can imagine.” Osbourne smiled placating.

“Let’s start at the beginning then,” Prentiss pressed. “How do you know Dr. Y/L/N?

“We were on the Board of Regents at the school, agent, surely you know that.” Osbourne cheeked.

“What made you write a letter stating that you, “Would see him destroyed?” Hotch asked.

“Well, he just so happened to vote against the use of some funds that would have benefited the school, greatly.” Osbourne elaborated.

“And would have trumpeted your name.” Hotch deduced.

“Well, if we had gotten to that stage of the development, yes, my name would have been attached to the project.” Osbourne admitted. “As it should be, I was a major backer and had spearheaded the development.”

Spencer shifted on his feet in the observation room. This man was a narcissist, but not the unsub. His patience was straining, he left Hotch and Prentiss to continue the interview. His long legs brought him to the evidence boards, his racing mind, back to the stack of evidence bags holding the papers Dr. Y/L/N was reading over the night he was killed.

Spencer Reid lost himself in the equations before him for the next few hours.

Your phone rang with an unfamiliar number. The amount of planning you had started with your dad’s lawyer had you seeing spots. Welcoming the distraction, you took the call.

“Dr. Y/L/N.” You answer.

“Yes, hello, this is Agent Morgan with the BAU.” A sultry voice answers you.

“How can I help you, Agent?” You wonder why someone besides Spencer was calling you about the case.

“I was calling to inform you, that the Medical Examiner has released your father’s body, ma’am.” Agent Morgan gently explained. “Now if you need help with arrangements, of any kind, please let us know and we will ensure you are getting the help you need.”

You exhale a ragged breath, “Thank you, um, Agent Morgan?” You answer, forgetting who you are speaking too.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you tell me, did my father suffer?” You ask because you need to know how much to hate this son of a bitch.

“No, ma’am,” Agent Morgan soothed. “He was asleep when he was attacked, he never saw it coming.”

A single tear leaves a trail on your cheek, you sniffle loudly over the line. “Thank you, again. And, please, catch this guy.”

“We are doing everything we can, ma’am.” Morgan confirmed, “I don’t know if anyone told you, but we have our own personal genius working on it as we speak.”

You smile through your tears, this guy was a good egg. “I might have heard about that guy, takes a lot of sugar in his coffee?”

A pleasant chuckle answered your retort. “Yeah, that’s our guy.”

To Be Continued...

Part 1    Part 3

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