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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 1 year ago

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Aaron Hotchner X Daughter Reader

Decided to try a different point of view.

Summary: You are a teenage kid of Aaron Hotchner. You also are the older sibling to Jack, your five year old brother. Your mother was killed right in front of you and your little brother. You have nightmares.

Warning this is kind of creepy mentions of Foyet and hallucinations/flashbacks.

Second person pov...

You gasp sitting up from your bed waking yourself from another nightmare, you haven't had a good night sleep for days now, the anniversary of your mother's death is next month. You breath in and out deeply trying to not wake up your Dad or brother.

“Y/N? Kiddo, you okay?”

You jump as your dad knocks on the door breathing in and out you call back "I'm fine dad" The tone of your voice alerted him something was wrong, as he slowly opened the door.

“Are you sure? I heard you gasp.”

He walks into your room as he closes the door behind him. He sits down on the side of your bed, as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N. What’s wrong?” You huff at him "nothing is wrong okay your just being paranoid dad" you tell him.

He chuckled slightly at this response, but he was still a bit worried about you, but he ruffled your hair, like he used to when you were a kid.

He ruffled your hair jokingly. “I just want you to know that you can always come talk to me if you need a listening ear, alright?" You smile "I know dad"

He smiled back, as he got to his feet, knowing that this was going as well as it could for now.

“I’m going back to bed. Try and get some shut eye alright?”

You smile "Okay sleep well, love you"

“Love you too, kiddo.”

He gave a nod before leaving, turning all the lights off as he did. Despite he wasn’t completely convinced, at least you are okay for now.

You sit in the dark of your room flinching at the dark spots and shudder remembering Foyet.

You wait a while convinced he was asleep before sneaking from your room and down the stairs into the kichen, you grabbed a glass and turned on the sink once full you sat at the kichen island.

He had been laying in bed, just before he was about to fall asleep, but then he heard the sound of the water in the kitchen sink. It piqued his interest.

After debating on it for a few minutes, he got out of his bed and left his room before making his way downstairs to the kitchen.

As you finish drinking you put the glass in the sink and turn to walk off as you do you hear footsteps in the dark flinching slightly you grab a knife and look around you.

He made it into the kitchen and immediately sees you holding a knife. He put his hands up and went over to you slowly as he tried to calm the situation slightly.

“Y/N, it’s just me kiddo.” You jump losing your grip on the knife quickly grabbing it you hiss as you cut you hand. "Fuck, Dad you scared me" the knife makes a loud ringing as it fell.

“Y/N! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He quickly went over to you, noticing the knife and your hand. “Are you okay? Let me see your hand kiddo.”

You flinch when the knife drops and see him walk over in his pjamas. He got over to you, noticing the flinch at the knife but just brushed it off as you were just a bit spooked by him.

“Sorry again for scaring you. But kiddo let me see your hand. Are you okay?” You groan as you look at your hand it sliced you good. "I'm fine dad " you tell him holding your hand out.

He gently took your hand, examining the cut before looking at you with a small sigh. “You’re bleeding pretty badly. Hold on a moment, okay?”

He quickly got up, going to one of the kitchen drawers before rummaging through it, looking for some bandages and gauze to clean and bandage your hand.

You nod and jump up into the counter swinging your legs, your eyes alert looking at the dark hallway.

He found bandage items before walking back to you. He saw that you were looking at something in the dark hallway and was curious.

“You okay kiddo? Why are you looking down the hall like that?”

You jump startled, He raised an eyebrow at that. But stood infront of you.

"I’m just going to take care of this cut on your hand, okay?” You nod giving him your hand. He takes your hand gently before taking a good look at how deep the cut is.

He was slightly concerned but tried to not show it as he started cleaning the cut, gently being cautious to not hurt you in the process.

“Could you tell me what you were doing up so late?” You shrug "needed a drink" which was true.

He raised an eyebrow, knowing that this wasn’t entirely true. But he also knew that there wasn’t a point in pushing the subject at the moment. Instead, he just let it go.

“Why didn’t you just get the drink and come back upstairs to your room? Why come down here?” you shrug again at that.

He sighed, noticing the shrugs. He didn’t know if he should try and keep pushing the subject or not at this point. He just continued to bandage your hand as he looked at you.

“Come on kiddo, don’t give me the shrugs. I know there’s more to it.” You huff looking at the hallway again. "It's nothing dad"

He noticed that you were looking down the hallway yet again. He knew something was up with that and now his protective mode was starting to kick in. His voice was calm yet slightly firm as he continued to bandage your hand.

“Why do you keep looking down the hallway? Are you expecting something to happen?”

You jump and look at him "no why would you think that" He could tell something was up, but He just stayed calm for now as he finished bandaging your hand.

“Well, I’m just confused as to why you keep looking down the hall like you are expecting something to happen. What is going on?”

You look at the hallway again. A image flashes, it was Foyet after he killed your mom he came after you, you hid in the kichen and grabbed a knife but he appeared in the hallway out of thr darkness.

He just finished up bandaging your hand “Y/N… Are you scared of the dark?” You look at him then at your hand.

"I'm scared of what's in the dark" you mutter staring at the hallway again. His heart sank slightly hearing He looked at you, his tone soft.

“Y/N… There’s nothing in the dark. I promise you.”

You look at him eyes haunted "but there is there always is" you tell him eyeing the hallway past his shoulder.

He put a hand on your shoulder, He did slightly turn to see the hall, but he didn’t see any sign of anyone or anything.

That definitely raised a red flag for him. The way you were talking about this “something” in the dark. He gently made you look at him.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? Who is ‘always there’?” You tear your eyes away from the hallway. You look at your dad as you say to scared you speak his name as if he'll appear.

He paused, not wanting to believe it, but knew the whole situation. He held eye contact with you. “Do you mean Foyet?” He asks. You nod.

You shake your head anxiously. "He's always there, laughing ans holding a knife" you cover your eyes not wanting to see.

He sighed, knowing that he had triggered something. He put a hand on your shoulder, knowing this was difficult for both of them, but he was trying to comfort you.

“Y/N, look at me, kid. He’s not here. He can’t get to you. I’m here.” Your dad mutters to you

His heart sank again at that, knowing that you were going back to that day. He moved closer to you, putting his arms around you, trying to comfort you the best he could.

“Y/N, listen to me. He’s gone. I promise he’s not here. Open your eyes and look around. See that everything is okay.”

You shake your head eyes glassy. You never told your dad what happened to you that day he only knew what happened you haley ans Jack you were too traumatized when they found you. "He's never gone-"

It broke his heart seeing you so afraid and so shaken. He continued to try and calm you down, doing his best, just trying to convince you. “Y/N,Tell me in your mind why you think he is still here."

You cling to your dad avoiding the dark hallway. "H-he appeared from the dark, he's always in the dark waiting" you mutter anxiously.

He holds you close, trying to calm you down as best he can, but also having to hear that Foyet just came from the dark to attack you.

He’s never heard that before and it made him feel sick for you that you had to live through that.

“Okay, okay. What about today? What triggered you to look down the hallway so much?"

"Dark, too dark everywhere" you mutter you know you probably sound crazy to him right now.

He continues to hold you close, rubbing your back gently, not wanting to upset you more, but just wanting to know more of what you think is happening.

“Okay, so it’s the dark that’s making you think someone is there. Do you think about anything when you picture the dark?”

"Foyet" you whisper as if saying his name will make him appear. He holds you just that bit tighter when you say that name. He never wanted to hear that name again, let alone hear you say it.

“Okay, and do you think he’s going to come get you? Even though he’s gone and we’re safe?” He still spoke softly, not wanting to alarm you. He did glance at the dark hallway, just to make sure there was nothing there.

You nod clinging to your dad. You nod slowly "I see flashes when it's dark of him when he cornered me"

His heart sinks further at that answer and hearing you say that. He just wraps you closer in a hug. “And this is what you’ve been living with ever since the night of…”

You nod looking at the hallway again. "I protected Jack, he never heard or saw anything" He nods, knowing that you did protect Jack through all that happened, but now he’s just realizing how much it’s affected you, and how he never knew that before.

“You did great, kiddo. You protected Jack so well. You did very good.”

He holds you a while until you eventually calm down and fall asleep in his arms happy that he is there and know he will protect you.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, sorry for the wait this is definitely a long one. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1923

#criminal minds #fanfic #behavioural analysis unit #fluff and comfort #oneshot #light angst #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #father daughter fluff #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner #trauma #george foyet #nightmares #aaron hotchner x teen reader #x daughter reader

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rosiahills22 · 9 months ago

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So I’m rewatching criminal minds and we are at the reaper episodes and I’m just wondering why the hell didn’t Hotch show Haley a picture of the reaper so she knows not to let him in or if she saw him call someone 😅 like wtf 🤣

Am I missing something here!????

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x wife!reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #agent hotchner #hotchner x reader #haley hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #david rossi #emily prentiss #george foyet

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fandom-imagines-stories · 10 months ago

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Schrodinger's Cat

Season Three Premiere

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 3776

Series Masterlist

Summary: The team is shocked by an attack that could mean the end for two of their own. Reid and the rest race to find the reader when Hotch is the only one found.

Notes: We’re back baby. (stabbed in the back, to be exact) Too soon? This one is all about the first episode of season five and it’s going to jump around quite a bit. I hope you guys are as excited as I am for all of the Foyet fun. (I’m actually terrified)

Ten Years Ago

The TV lit up the living room, shadows changing with the switching of scenes and movement of the characters on the screen. It was hypnotic, almost making you join your movie-watching buddy who’d fallen asleep half an hour ago. The junk food in your system certainly didn’t help either.

A well-needed girl’s night.

You weren’t totally used to it yet. Sometimes, it still felt like your mom was going to come home from work and it would be the two of you buying cookies and chips and watching rom-coms for hours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Haley. She was kind to you and didn’t treat you the way your teachers did. Like you were going to snap at any second. But you still didn’t feel like any of this was real.

The front door opened and your brother stepped in with his suitcase and go-bag.

Your brother.

Another thing you weren’t totally used to.

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to not sound as tired as he felt. “What are you still doing up?”

You put a finger to your lips and motioned to his sound-asleep wife on the sofa. He glanced at her and smiled, gently brushing a hair out of her face.

“We were having a movie night,” you said. You hopped out of the chair and followed him into the kitchen so the two of you wouldn’t wake her up. “How was your case?”

He put his suitcase on the table, looking back at the television rather than at you.

“What are you guys watching?”

“I don’t know, I stopped paying attention an hour ago.” Leaning against the doorframe, you tried to block his view. “Come on, Aaron. It was your first case as a senior agent. You’ve got to tell me everything.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighed.

“Okay, well tell me what you can tell me. It was that Boston Reaper guy, wasn’t it? The news said he still hasn’t been caught.” You sat down at the table, pushing the chair out across from you with your foot and motioning for him to sit. He hesitated. You raised a brow. “You want me to start trusting you, right?”

Aaron frowned but sat across from you anyway. “I didn’t mean divulging details of my job,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t want to hear about the stuff I work with. It’s dark and…” He trailed off, realizing how ridiculous that must sound to you. “Alright, how about this? Why don’t we go pick up some ice cream from that 24-hour place and I’ll tell you some of what I can tell you?”

You nodded, the idea of listening to him talk about his job fascinating you. That kind of stuff used to freak you out, but now, hearing about it made what happened to you feel buried beneath it. Like it was helping you understand it all and yet pushing it further, safely away from you at the same time.

“But,” Aaron said, holding up a hand, “you have to pick out the cheesiest, most upbeat, happy 80s music that you can find to listen to on the way there. Deal?”

He reached his hand across the table. You shook it with a grin.

“Deal.”

Present Day

He’d had little time to celebrate. Despite his excitement, Spencer had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you to come home. He was awakened by a call from JJ, bringing them in on a local case. You hadn’t come back yet, so he figured you ended up crashing at Hotch’s because it was so late.

There was another train of thought, though, that he just couldn't shake.

Maybe you’d had second thoughts and couldn’t bear to tell him in person. Maybe you changed your mind about getting married, about getting back together in general, and had decided to stay with your brother until you figured a way out.

Maybe that was why Hotch wasn’t answering his phone. He was busy helping you get away from Spencer, from this life, from everyone.

“Reid,” Prentiss said, looking at him over the top of the file in her hand. “Are you okay?”

Dr. Barton paced with other files in his hand, trying to figure out who could be doing this to him. Who could be threatening his son and murdering innocent people?

Reid gulped. “Yeah. I just… have a lot to think about.”

Prentiss raised a brow. “Good things to think about?”

He smirked and kept his eyes on the patient file. “Let’s just focus on the case.”

She nodded and glanced over at the panicked father. Dr. Barton sat back down with his head in his hands. He looked at the clock.

“Jeffery is leaving school in five hours,” he said. “There’s no way we can get through all these patients in time.” His voice was getting more harried with every word, not that either agent could blame him.

Prentiss sighed. “Well, we’ve narrowed it down already.”

“And we still have a hundred left,” the doctor exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be callous, but when you work in the E.R. you don’t remember names. You operate and you move on.”

She ran a hand down her face, took a deep breath, and came to a decision.

“He’s right. There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short period of time.” She stands, checking her watch. “Um, I can get to Hotch’s and back here in half an hour.”

“Who’s that?” Barton asked.

“He’s our supervisor,” Reid said. “We weren’t supposed to work today. We’re having trouble getting a hold of him.”

“But we need more eyes.” Prentiss moved toward the door, but Reid stood up, signaling for her to stop.

“Actually, can you…” Can you ask Y/N why she didn’t come home? The rest of the question, however, died on his lips. He sighed and sat back down. “Just, let me know when you get there.”

His teammate nodded and left the two men to continue their investigation alone.

He’s just passed out on his couch with his phone off. That’s what Emily kept telling herself as she climbed the stairs to Hotch’s apartment. Everything’s fine. It was just her profiler brain keeping her on edge. If something had happened, he would have called.

Unless he couldn’t.

“Stop freaking yourself out, Emily,” she muttered to herself, finding the door to his apartment and knocking. “Hotch? It’s me, Emily.”

No answer.

She pulled out her phone and dialed, that pit in her stomach turning. It worsened upon hearing the ringing of his cell inside. Everything else was deadly quiet. And when she turned the handle, she found the door already unlocked.

Emily took out her gun and stepped inside.

Everything seemed normal. Too normal. It looked as if he’d just arrived home and had stepped out for just a minute. But somehow, she knew she was stepping into a crime scene, even before she saw the multiple pooling bloodstains on the carpet around the corner.

She didn’t waste any time. She called Penelope first and told her to send police and FBI techs as soon as possible. Emily also warned her not to tell the rest of the team. Lives were in danger, including that of a young boy, and she didn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize their focus on the case. The only one she could tell was Reid, and that was only because he was expecting her to come back with Hotch any minute.

She’d have to tell Y/N. Her chest ached at the thought.

Reid was still looking over files when she called.

“Hey.”

“Reid, listen, I’m not going to be able to come back. Something’s happened.”

“What?”

She sighed, trying to keep the concern from her voice. “Hotch is gone.”

Spencer’s heart stopped. “What are you talking about?”

“What’s going on?” Dr. Barton asked.

“I just got to his apartment and his car is here, but I can’t find him, and Reid… there’s blood.” Prentiss took a deep breath. “I told Penelope to send police here and I’ll stay to figure this out, but I need you not to say anything to anybody else. You all need to stay focused on protecting the Bartons and anyone else who might be in danger.”

“Is this about Jeffery?”

Reid turned to the worried father, his face paling. “No, no it’s unrelated.”

“We only have a few hours left here.”

“I’m really sorry, but I have to take this phone call, ok?”

Dr. Barton sighed in frustration. “What could be more important than my son right now?”

It took everything in Spencer’s power not to lose it right there while countless panicked questions ran through his mind.

“I assure you this will take one second. Please, I promise,” he pleaded.

There was something about his voice. Something familiar. She stared at the twin blood stains and remembered how Reid had been when Y/N had been taken by the Cunninghams.

“Reid, I’m going to need you to stay with Dr. Barton-” She started, but he cut her off.

“I’ll call somebody else. I have to go down there.”

“You can’t. Everyone has to stay focused on his case-”

“Emily, you don’t understand.” He tried to hold back cries threatening his voice. It confirmed her fear before he did. “Y/N went to see Hotch last night. She-” He inhaled, trembling. “She never came home.”

With everybody working to protect Jeffery, Prentiss knew that Reid would have to stay with him. He didn’t argue or try to fight her on the subject, which only made her feel worse. He said he’d join her as soon as they’d narrowed down the patient list and made her promise to call him for any updates, regardless of what she found.

So Emily kicked her search into high gear, setting aside every panicked feeling, every turn of her gut, and she did what she knew Hotch would want her to do- she treated this like any other case. They were both alive until proven otherwise. She forced herself to repeat that over and over again until she almost believed it.

They were alive until proven otherwise.

They were alive.

They had to be.

Back at the BAU, Penelope was telling herself the same thing. With every hospital she called, however, the harder and harder it was to remember. What were the odds that Hotch was taken to a hospital, let alone both of them?

But when she heard a name she hadn’t expected, she paused.

“When was that?” Penelope asked the nurse on the other end. Her heart lifted. “A-and can you tell me if he was brought in with anybody else? A Y/F/N Y/L/N or maybe a Jane Doe.” Her demeanor fell again with the nurse’s answer. “Alright, thank you. I’ll have an agent there as soon as possible to check on the man admitted as SSA Derek Morgan.”

It didn’t make any sense. Derek wasn’t in the hospital, someone would have told her.

She didn’t waste any time, immediately dialing for Emily.

“Talk to me, Garcia.”

“O-okay, I called hospitals to see if Hotch had gotten himself admitted to an emergency room.”

“And?”

“He’s not listed as a patient,” she gulped, “but someone dropped a John Doe off at St. Sebastian Hospital, and that someone’s name was FBI Agent Derek Morgan.”

Prentiss’s brows drew together in confusion. “That doesn’t make sense.”

And yet somehow it did. Pieces began to connect in her brain. A case from a few months ago. A killer on the run.

“I know,” Garcia sighed. “Do you think they got their credentials mixed up?”

Emily’s stomach dropped. “The Reaper.” A new wave of worry set in. “Foyet took Morgan’s creds.”

“Why would he drop him off at the E.R.?” Penelope asked, her voice quieting with terror.

Emily was already taking off. “What hospital did you say again?”

“St. Sebastian Hospital.”

“I’ll call you with an update when I get there.”

“Wait,” Penelope said. “There’s something else.” She blinked back worried tears and tried to keep her voice steady. “Hotch was admitted alone. I asked the nurse. Y/N wasn’t with him.” She didn’t want to think about what that meant, but images of Foyet and her friend took over every thought.

Prentiss swallowed hard, feet hurrying out of Hotch’s apartment down to her car.

“I’ll update you when I get there,” she repeated. She stopped with her hand on the steering wheel. “And Garcia?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Don’t tell Reid.”

“But-”

“Dr. Burton and his son have to be his priority right now and if Y/N is…” She trailed off and started the car. “I’ll call him when I get the chance.”

Prentiss hung up feeling sick. She promised Reid she’d tell him if anything happened, but if Y/N wasn’t at the hospital, there were only two realistic options: she was still with Foyet or…

Emily shook her head.

You were alive until proven otherwise.

He had to focus. Too many lives were at stake for him to get distracted. Still, Spencer’s hands shook slightly with every file he picked up. He hadn’t heard any news from Prentiss and he still couldn’t tell the rest of the team what was going on, so the weight was his to bear alone.

He thought you’d changed your mind.

What if all this time he spent worrying that you were leaving him again you were actually…

Spencer pushed the thought away the best he could, looking up as Dr. Barton put on his suit jacket and headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“The note said not to deviate from my routine and I always pick up Jeffery on my days off.” With the unsub hopefully identified, the doctor just wanted all of this to be over.

For the team, the problems were just beginning.

“I’m going with you.” Reid placed the file in his hand back on the table, switching it out for his now ringing phone.

Dr. Barton went into the hall.

“L.C. on the unsub’s note,” Prentiss said. He could hear sounds behind her voice. Beeping and voices. He made the connection and held his breath. A hospital. “It stands for Living Children.”

“Are you sure?” He pushed all other questions not pertaining to the case away despite how desperately he wanted to ask them.

“It’s administrative,” she answered. “It’s when they’re afraid a patient is going to go on life support and they don’t have a DNR order.”

She didn’t mention how she figured that out, the image of Hotch unconscious in the hospital bed still very present in her mind.

Nine times. He was stabbed nine times.

“Reid?” She said, the sound of his silence speaking volumes.

“What if the unsub was trying to tell Dr. Barton that he is actually the target and that he’s gonna leave his son without a father?”

If he lost Hotch, it’d be like losing a father figure all over again.

He was alive.

Surely Reid would have been able to hear it in Prentiss’s voice if he wasn’t. Right?

The door clicked open and a different panic rushed through Spencer.

“Barton!”

Emily listened to the hurry of Reid running to a different room. She heard voices.

Then she heard a gunshot and the crack of the phone hitting the ground.

“Reid?” She said, “Answer me.”

Nothing.

No no no no no. Not him too.

Emily turned to the window. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. How was that even possible? How could the sun be shining when everything was falling apart?

“Reid?”

Two men. Different injuries. One unanswered question.

Is she alive?

While Spencer went into surgery for the gunshot to his knee, Aaron laid in agonizing wait.

He knew only three things.

The Reaper brought him here.

He was after Haley and Jack.

And the last time he had seen his little sister, there was a knife in her stomach.

“Do you know how much you have to study about the human body to stab yourself repeatedly and not die?”

“Stop it… leave him… Aaron, hang on.”

“You’ve got such a pretty sister. She’s a little old for my type, but who am I to be picky in a moment like this?”

Your breathless, silent scream echoed through Aaron’s mind.

The shrill tone of a phone ringing brought him back to life. To the present. Dead or not dead. He imagined the bodies of the people he loved. Foyet wanted to hold all of the power, so he held all the answers. Did he go after Haley and Jack? Did he kill you?

Prentiss came back into the room. “They’re safe.”

But she only meant two of them. The third person’s unknown fate still lingered in her eyes.

So he focused on finding the facts.

“You were at my place, right?” He asked.

Prentiss nodded.

“Could you tell how he got in?”

“I’m not sure.” She took a breath. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He stared at the wall behind her. His heart beat in his ears. He could hear your gasps all over again. Were you dying? When he finally fell into unconsciousness, was he too weak to be there for you?

“I just want to find my sister.”

Prentiss nodded, the lump in her throat growing. But Hotch’s eyes went behind her to the person standing in the doorway. Emily put a hand on Haley’s shoulder as she walked out of the room to give the former couple some privacy.

Neither knew what to say. On one hand, they were both beyond relieved to see that the other was alive. But on the other, each knew the dangers they now faced… the dangers you still faced.

“How do you feel?” Haley finally asked.

“I’m gonna be okay,” he said, using all of his strength to keep a straight face when all he wanted to do was break. “Did they explain to you what’s happening?”

Haley nodded. “They said the Marshall’s service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody.” She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I told them I wanted to stay until they found Y/N, but they seemed pretty adamant that Jack and I need to leave as soon as possible.”

Aaron looked into her glassy eyes and sighed. “Haley, I’m sorry.”

“I have to know if she’s okay,” she cried. “Does he still have her? Is she…” She stopped and took a breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Is she even alive?”

“We have to assume that she is until we’re given evidence to suggest-”

“Damnit, Aaron, it’s your little sister!” She exclaimed. “I know you want to shut down and close your walls, but Aaron… this is Y/N.”

Didn’t she think he knew that? That he had been thinking about you every minute he’d been conscious and even while he wasn’t. That if he could turn back the clock and make sure you never came back to the apartment he would. Didn’t she know he wished Foyet had finished the job on him if it meant that you were safe? Every minute he was stuck in this hospital room, it just felt like his wounds were opening more and more. A cut in his stomach for Haley. One to his chest for Jack. And one twisting, wrenching stab to his flesh for you.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Aaron looked down, a tear escaping onto his cheek.

Haley put her hand on top of his. She pushed aside every frustration that burrowed into her chest, every panicked scream in her head, every sob in her heart. She looked at the man that she loved- that she still loved- and knew what they both needed was hope. Hope that this would all be over and things could go back to the way they were.

Even if they never really would.

“They’ll find her,” she concluded. “It’s like you said. We have to assume she’s alive.” Haley gave him a small smile. “And when they find her and you and your team catch this guy like you always do, we can have a family night. We’ll watch cheesy movies and eat junk food just like she and I did when she was younger.” She held his hand a little tighter. “And we’ll all be alright, yeah?”

He was trained to see through her optimism, to see that she was putting on a brave face just like he was trying to. But for that moment, knowing this was the last time he’d see her until they caught Foyet, he just wanted to make her keep smiling.

“Yeah. We’ll all be alright.”

He told her that they’d find a way to tell her what happened with you, even if she couldn’t be in contact with anyone. Including you.

And then Haley said goodbye, looking back one more time as she left.

He’d been begging the nurse to let him out for the last half-hour. She had to go get JJ in order to make him calm down.

“We can’t just sit here,” Spencer said. Every time he tried to get up, however, the forceful blonde urged him right back down. “Y/N is out there. I have to find her.”

“I know, Spence,” JJ sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on his arm. “We have people searching every block of the city to find her. Wherever Foyet took her, we’ll figure it out.”

Foyet. Just the name sent shivers up both of their spines. Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists around the bedsheet, remembering the last time he was in a room like this after almost dying from anthrax. You were there for him. You read to him and told him you wanted to come home.

What if you never came home? What if you were out there, bleeding out and crying for him to stop Foyet. What if the last thing you saw was that man smiling over you as he plunged the knife deeper into your chest?

“I have to go.” He swung one leg over the bed, the sheet falling to the ground.

“Spence, please-” JJ pleaded.

Both of them fell silent, frozen as Prentiss walked into the room. Her lips were set in a hard, grim line. He tried to read the look in her eyes, but even she didn’t know what to feel.

Emily breathed out. “They found her.”

I always forget tag lists, so please let me know if I missed you!

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @pleasantwitchgarden

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid #d'artagnan #the in betweens #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #david rossi #the bau #the reaper #george foyet

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minswriting · 7 months ago

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HIDDEN AFFAIRS - Spencer Reid x Reader

About: You’re married and have a husband but you began an affair with Spencer after he was released from prison.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, oral (m & f), p in v, unprotected sex, soft!post prison spencer, mentions of dark themes (torture, addiction, rape [all related to trauma]), talk’s of spencer’s addiction and Maeve’s death. Cheating (reader cheating on her husband), divorce. if i missed anything, let me know! this isn’t proof read btw so there may be inconsistencies lol

Word Count: 3.5K

To say love is complicated would be an understatement. It is a four-letter word that withholds so much emotion. To love someone is to open your heart to them, to show them you care for them in a way that allows for emotional fulfillment. The laughter, the smiles, the terms of endearment, the dates, everything—all related to loving someone. And yet, the pain that comes with love is enough to push people away from the emotion completely.

You fell in love at the age of seventeen. You were young, dumb, naive, and full of life. The day you met John, it was as though everything had just clicked. He had short blond hair, and blue eyes, and was 5’10.. The two of you had met right after graduating high school. He was a year older than you and what was supposed to be just a summer fling turned into a full relationship.

The day you met Spencer was the day your whole life changed. You both joined the BAU at the same time, being the same age. He was this knowledgeable, awkward, anti-social person that you couldn’t help but find adorable in a platonic way. You guys had formed a friendship early on. You always listened to him, hearing him ramble about odd things that no one usually cared about other than him. The way he spoke and his mannerisms were all endearing to you.

The friendship you had with Spencer was a meaningful one, to say the least. Bonded by your jobs, he was truthfully your best friend. The person you can go to and be yourself without any qualms. You were both there for one another when neither of you felt as though you could go to anyone else. After Tobias Hankel had kidnapped Spencer, you were the first to notice the signs of addiction. The irritation, the bags under his eyes, the way he’d isolate himself. You knew that had anyone else known, Spencer would’ve lost his job. But you took it upon yourself to help him in his time of need, being the only person who had helped him through that tough time. It was safe to say after that, the bond between you both had grown stronger.

Then there was the time that Spencer was shot in the leg. He was injured and unable to do much. It was an overall hard time at the BAU with George Foyet. So to distract themselves from the hardships of the job at that time, you would go over to Spencer’s and make him dinner, help him clean his apartment, and make sure he was doing alright. You’d watch movies, laugh, and enjoy time together.

And not to mention when Maeve had died. Spencer shut everyone out, not wanting to interact with anyone on the team at all as he wallowed away in grief. You, however, made sure Spencer knew he wasn’t alone. You’d order takeout for him, having it delivered to his house. You’d leave small voicemails, letting him know that you’re there for him. And when he was eventually ready to talk to someone, he only spoke to you. You were there as he cried in your arms, helped him clean his apartment, and did his laundry as he processed his grief.

Then there was the time he helped you through your roughest time.

A year after you got married, at the age of twenty-six, while on a case, you were kidnapped by the unsub. It was this serial torture rapist, keeping his victims alive to relive the torture he inflicted on his victims. And he had done the same to you. The whole situation had ended with Hotch killing the unsub before the unsub could hurt you further. To say the whole situation traumatized you was an understatement.

You barely spoke to anyone. You didn’t sleep next to your husband, speak to the team, or stay in your shared apartment. You had gone to a hotel to be alone, totally isolating yourself. The only way anyone knew where you were was from the bank statements Penelope found. Spencer had been the one to go to the hotel and find you, and it led to you sobbing in his arms as he held you closely.

It was at that time when you felt your heart flutter for Spencer. But you ignored it, denied it even. You loved John more than anything. Spencer was and always will be just your friend.

Your friendship with Spencer was a deep connection. And one that you would never trade the world for.

Then he went to prison and it was a long few months without him. And when he came back, he was different. He was more rugged, with hair messier than usual, and stubble on his face. He was no longer the lanky, quirky, awkward boy who rambled about anything and everything that tickled his brain. He was a man that was hurt, damaged, and in pain. The trauma of his life had caught up to him. As did the lust he felt for you. Longing gazes, silent words spoken to you, protectiveness of you, and eventually, it also caught up to you.

You don’t know how it happened. Twelve years and more of working together, being best friends, and the months Spencer had spent in prison had just built the tension between you both. One day, you were just in his apartment, working on a case, and the next, you were in his bed with Spencer’s face buried between your thighs as you tugged at his hair and moaned his name.

It was wrong, you knew it was. The fact you were married had everything to do with it. And yet, you couldn’t stop. Dinners at Spencer’s, rendezvous at random hotels, staying together when on cases. You couldn’t help but feel something you hadn’t felt with your husband in a long time. Maybe it was that your husband no longer paid you much mind. He hadn’t touched you or kissed you much in a year. He’d only ever have sex with you after having a good day which hardly felt like ever. But Spencer? Spencer treated you like you were sent from the Heavens above. He worshipped your skin and the ground you walked on. He made you feel worthy of being appreciated.

It helped that you two were bonded by the trauma of your jobs, having always been there through thick and thin.

And now, here you were, lying in Spencer’s arms in his bed as you dreaded that in just a few minutes, you’d have to go home to the dark and lonely apartment that you no longer felt happy in. Spencer looked at you with a soft look in his eyes that he only ever had when he was with you, rubbing circles along your arm with his thumb. “Headed out soon?” He asked in that not-quite-a-whisper tone.

You sighed, leaning your head on Spencer’s shoulder. “I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?” You murmured back.

Spencer hummed in response, continuing his movements on your arm. “You know I’ll never say you have to go,” He replied softly.

You knew that. Of course, you knew that. Spencer was never the first one to initiate leaving. You were always the one that did. You had to. You were married. And you didn’t want your husband to suspect anything. John already knew that you had a close friendship with Spencer. But he never once questioned whether your feelings for Spencer were platonic or not. And after being with John since you were seventeen, being thirty-five now, it was hard just to let that go.

You stayed silent for a few minutes, relishing Spencer’s warmth against you. Suddenly, you took a deep breath before pulling away and sitting up. You glanced at Spencer before getting out of bed. The chill of the cool air hitting the naked skin of your body causes you to shiver.

Spencer sat up in his bed, leaning against the headboard as he watched you move around his bedroom. “You’re so beautiful,” he said with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

You let out a huff of air, grabbing your panties that had landed near Spencer’s closet. “You flatter me too much,” you exclaimed, putting your underwear on.

“I only speak the facts,” His voice held a certain tone to it.

“I know,” you replied. And after that, no words were spoken as you finished getting yourself changed. You took a deep breath before turning to look at Spencer.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice was low and rough, and his face was void of emotion.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Spence,” You murmured, walking over to press a kiss onto his forehead before leaving.

Going home was always the hardest part. The silent car ride home, the way you always got so anxious as you got closer to your apartment, how you always felt so guilty about what you were doing behind your husband’s back, the guilt about leaving Spencer. You wondered how long you could do this and keep lying to the man you’ve been with since you were seventeen years old. And yet, you also remember how John hasn’t treated you like you were his world in quite some time. Some of the guilt dissipates.

When you arrive at your apartment, it’s dark and silent. A coldness engulfs the environment, embracing the once warm and cozy place—a place that once brought you joy and happiness, with a golden hue to it. And now it’s all indigo.

You made your way to your shared bedroom, hearing the snores of your husband as he slept peacefully on your shared bed. You couldn’t help but notice the faint smell of perfume, one that you didn’t use. And you knew exactly why but you chose to ignore it. You were exhausted, having just gotten back from a case and then sleeping with Spencer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with the reality of your situation.

You took a shower, changing into pajamas before going to bed, sleeping on your side facing away from your husband. You felt him turn, loosely putting an arm on your waist and felt nothing from the touch.

A few days later, the team was in Tulsa, Oklahoma on a case. It was a gruesome one. Prostitutes were brutally tortured before being found on the side of the road in a ditch. The team flew out earlier in the day. After a long day of theories, going over the crime scenes, looking at the wounds on the bodies, and trying to come up with leads, everyone was exhausted. Emily had called it a day at eight o’clock, telling everyone to get some rest at the hotel and that they’d all meet back up in the morning at seven a.m.

So where did you end up?

In Spencer’s hotel room, of course. Because where else would you be?

It wasn’t sex immediately. Spencer had been reading a book and you just sat with him as he read. It never took him long to read, anyway. It was peaceful. The room filled with the turning of pages as he held you close to him on the bed, the way your breathing matched one another’s, was a calm that you only ever felt when you were with Spencer. When he finished reading the book, he closed it, placed it on the side table, and leaned his head over to press a kiss onto your forehead.

You lifted your head from his chest, looking up at him as he sat up against the headboard. He leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It was tender and gentle. And it never failed to cause your heart to flutter. It wasn’t long before the kiss became more intense. Spencer kissed you more deeply, a hand resting on your right cheek as he gently adjusted himself so that he could lay you down on the mattress, moving himself on top of you without breaking the kiss.

It was always a dance of sorts. His tongue battling yours for dominance. Although that was a game he always won. What can you say? You adored the way Spencer kissed you.

It wasn’t long before your clothes were gone, both of you breathing heavily in front of one another on the mattress. “I want to taste you,” You breathed out, sighing at Spencer as you looked up at him. You maneuvered yourself out from underneath him. Spencer moved to lie down on the mattress, his head on the pillows as he looked at you.

You began by kissing Spencer’s lips, working your way down his jaw and his neck. Your touch was light, like a tickle, as you made your way down Spencer’s body. You kissed his chest to his stomach, stopping to give smooches all over his tummy before making your way down his happy trail and stopping just right above his cock. You looked at Spencer’s face, seeing the way he looked at you. His breathing was shaky as he looked at you with those puppy dog brown eyes.

Words weren’t spoken between the two of you. They never had to be. You both understood one another in a way that you never felt with your husband or any of your friendships. You looked down at Spencer’s cock, seeing how hard he was for you. You pressed a kiss onto the tip, causing Spencer to inhale sharply. You couldn’t help the small smirk that graced your lips at the reactions you always elicited out of Spencer before giving Spencer’s tip a kitten lick, drawing out a small whimper from his lips. You swirled your tongue around the tip, causing another whimper to leave Spencer’s lips.

You slowly eased your mouth onto his length, making it halfway. You began to move your head up and down, keeping your pace deliberate. Spencer let out a hiss of pleasure, trying to keep his eyes on you. One of his hands moved to your head, entangling his fingers in your hair. You picked up the pace, bobbing your head up and down faster. You added your hand into the mix, jerking off what you couldn’t fit into your mouth.

“A-ah,” Spencer moaned, closing his eyes in pleasure. With each movement of your head, you swirled your tongue on his cock, causing Spencer’s toes to curl. He couldn’t help the whine that escaped his mouth as he bucked his hips into your mouth, pushing his cock further into your mouth.

You didn’t give Spencer head often. Mostly because he always preferred giving it rather than receiving it. But when you did, the look of Spencer becoming wrecked was a work of art. He was an art piece that you just couldn’t get enough of. One that you wanted to pleasure and never stop.

Soon, his cock was stiffening in your mouth, moaning your name in that beautiful voice of his as he came down your throat.

And then your positions changed.

You were the one lying on your back, whining and moaning as Spencer ate you out like a starved man, his tongue lapping figure 8’s all over your cunt. He sucked on your clit, causing you to gasp in pleasure. You pulled at Spencer’s hair, causing him to moan against your cunt. “Oh my god, Spencer,” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure.

Spencer always relished the way you reacted to his touch. He knew your body better than your husband. He knew exactly where to touch you to make you come undone in minutes. Spencer paused for a moment, pressing a kiss against your cunt before diving back in. His tongue went to your hole, his nose rubbing against your clit.

You let out a choked moan, tugging his hair. It didn’t take long until your thighs were clenching around his face while your back arched against the mattress, moaning Spencer’s name in a high-pitched whine that was nearly pornographic.

And when you were finished, Spencer came up from your pussy, his face glistening with your juices. He gave you hardly any time to calm down as he stood up. “Need you,” He breathed out, lining his cock up to your entrance.

“Have me,” You replied breathily.

It was easy for Spencer to slip his cock into you as you were soaking wet and ready for him. You whined at the intrusion, reaching a hand out for Spencer. He grabbed your hand and when his cock was fully inside of you, he moved so that he was on top of you. He stayed still, his face hovering over yours. His eyes held an unspoken emotion that you weren’t ready to admit to yourself yet. But it was there.

Spencer began to slowly thrust his hips, causing the both of you to moan in sync. He still held your hand, holding it next to your head with his. Sex with Spencer wasn’t always like this. It was mostly needy, desperate, sometimes awkward. But tonight, it was tender, a tenderness that you hadn’t experienced in a long while. You couldn’t ignore the feelings that floated in your chest. The eye contact, the slow movement of Spencer’s thrusts, the hand-holding, you knew exactly what you were feeling.

Spencer’s cock went in and out of you, keeping his pace slow and deliberate. You captured Spencer’s lips in a kiss, your version of your unspoken feelings. You moaned in the kiss, your free hand going to Spencer’s back. His thrusts became more frantic, thrusting into you harder and faster.

You pulled away from the kiss, throwing your head back in pleasure. His cock was hitting that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to moan so beautifully. “Spencer,” you moaned, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” He breathed out, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“You feel so good,” You said in a whiny voice, looking up at Spencer.

You were truly a sight to behold. How Spencer ever got lucky to bed you, he didn’t know how. It’s as though all of the trauma he’s endured in his life was worth it if it meant getting to have you. The torture of it? You weren’t completely his. Funny how life works. The way your walls clenched around his cock, the way you moaned his name, the way your chest moved up and down from your heavy breathing, god he adored you.

And you knew that he did.

The two of you moaned together, saying each other’s names in whines, moans, and whispers. And eventually, the heat inside of you got stronger as you felt yourself getting closer. “I’m so close,” You moaned.

“Go ahead, baby,” Spencer groaned, moving his hips faster. “God, I’m going to cum inside of you.”

When you both came, it was like magic. The feeling of you pulsing around Spencer’s cock as he filled you with his seed, milking him. The pleasure was dizzying with the intensity the two of you had with one another. And when you both were finished, Spencer pulled out, lying down beside you and taking you into his arms.

Spencer held you close to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. He held your hand with one hand and used the other to trace patterns onto your other arm. He pressed a kiss onto your head, holding you close to him.

And that’s when you finally allowed yourself to admit that you were in love with your best friend of 12+ years.

A few days later, the case ended and you guys flew back to Quantico. The night you went back home, to your dark and cold apartment, you immediately noticed the lack of things in the apartment and the manilla envelope on the coffee table in the living room. You turned on the light, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you walked over to the couch and sat down. You grabbed the envelope, opened it, and pulled out the papers.

John served you divorce papers. What you thought would break your heart, the ending of an eighteen-year-old relationship, and yet, all you felt was relief. You both were fooling one another, cheating on each other because neither of you wanted to be the first to admit what either of you were doing behind each other’s backs.

You didn’t hesitate to sign the papers.

That night, when you showed up at Spencer’s apartment with the envelope in hand and a bag on your shoulder, Spencer couldn’t contain the goofy smile that appeared on his face as he pulled you into his apartment and his arms. Because you were both finally able to have each other in the way you both so desperately craved.

You loved Spencer, more than you could even fathom. And he loved you just as much. The day you officially got divorced, he treated you to a proper date and it was absolutely lovely.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminals minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds reactions #spencer criminal minds

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kiwriteswords · 7 months ago

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Hiya! May i please request protective Aaron Hotchner? Thanks Ki!

To the Ends of the Earth [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: LOVE PROTECTIVE HOTCH!! Thanks for requesting!!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, reader was taken advantage of by a powerful figure, protective!Hotch, mentions of sexual assault/harassment, mentions of physical altercations, blackmail, canon-typical violence, angry Hotch, protective!Derek Morgan, Hotch's POV, Reader defending herself, established relationship, Strauss is a nightmare boss sometimes, Aaron "I must make sure justice is served" Hotchner, bureaucratic politics

Summary: When an opportunity of a lifetime turns into a nightmare for you, Aaron Horchner needs to make it right.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man given to fits of rage. His demeanor, honed by years of service and hardship, was one of controlled calm, a fortress of logic and order. But as he watched you move around the kitchen that morning, something stirred deep within him—a tumultuous blend of protectiveness and fury that he hadn't felt since the harrowing days of George Foyet.

Something was off about you. It had been for a few weeks now, ever since you returned from that high-profile assignment with the task force. Hotch remembered how proud he had felt when you were selected, the honor that lit up your eyes, the excitement that animated your every gesture. But now, the light had faded from your eyes, replaced by a haunted, distant gaze.

Your movements were mechanical, your smiles forced. You flinched at sudden movements and seemed to wrap yourself tighter in your own arms whenever the house fell too quiet. The changes were subtle, but to Hotch, they screamed of something profoundly wrong.

He watched now as you poured coffee with slightly trembling hands, the dark liquid spilling slightly over the rim of the mug. Hotch's jaw clenched. He approached you, his steps silent but purposeful.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of concern that made you pause and look up. "We need to talk."

You nodded, setting the coffee pot down a bit too quickly, liquid sloshing onto the counter. "I know," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Hotch reached out, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "What happened on that assignment?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You've been different since you came back."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip, a clear struggle within you. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears.

"It's... it was nothing, Aaron. I—I just got overwhelmed with the work, that's all," you stammered, but Hotch's eyes darkened. He knew you. He knew when you were hiding something painful.

"Talk to me," he pressed, his hand firm yet gentle on your arm. "Please."

The floodgates opened then, and as you told him about your boss—the respected and powerful figure within the Bureau, the one with connections that reached the highest echelons of government—Hotch felt a cold fury settle in his stomach. The man had taken advantage of you, betrayed your trust in the most despicable way, and used his power to silence you.

"He told me... he told me if I said anything, it'd be the end of my career. He's friends with—"

Hotch cut you off, his voice icy, "I don't care who he's friends with."

You flinched at the steel in his voice, and he immediately softened, pulling you into a protective embrace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just so, so angry that he did this to you. That I wasn't there to protect you."

Hotch held you close, his mind racing. His instinct was to protect, to avenge, to rectify. But he was also Aaron Hotchner, a man of the law, bound by rules and protocols—even if his heart screamed to break them for your sake.

"We're going to handle this," he whispered into your hair, his voice a steady rumble of contained fury. "I promise you, I won't let him get away with this. No one hurts you and just walks away."

Hotch felt your body tense in his arms, the weight of your emotions palpable against his chest. He held you tighter, a silent promise in the embrace.

"Look at me," he urged gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his once again. In them, he saw a storm of hurt, fear, and defiance—a maelstrom that made his own heart clench with an indignant rage he seldom allowed others to see.

"I... I don't want to make this into something big, Aaron. It's... it's embarrassing," you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of your vulnerability. "And I... I don't want to be seen as a victim. He's too powerful. What if—"

"No," Hotch interrupted firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze was intense, almost piercing, as he spoke with a clarity that cut through the fog of your worries. "You are not a victim. And this... this man has committed a crime. His power doesn't protect him from the law—not from justice. Not as long as I'm here."

You searched his face, looking for the certainty that felt so elusive to you now. Finding it in his eyes, the relentless determination that defined him, a small, fragile sense of security began to weave through your trepidation.

"Aaron, I'm scared," you admitted, the truth sounding stark and raw between you. "I'm scared of the fallout, of what it means for us, for my career..."

Hotch's expression hardened, the lines of his face setting into that familiar mold of resolve that had carried him through countless challenges. "I understand your fear, and it's valid. But you're not alone in this—not now, not ever. We'll do this together and on your terms. We'll take every precaution, use every resource at our disposal. We'll fight this, and we'll win."

The certainty in his voice was more than just comforting—it was a bastion against the doubts that threatened to overwhelm you. Hotch stood, his posture rigid with controlled anger, a testament to his unwavering support.

"And if he thinks he can intimidate or silence you, he doesn't know who he's dealing with. He doesn't know who I am," Hotch added his voice a low growl of protective ferocity. It was the same tone he'd used years ago, a sound born of fury and pain from darker days. It reassured you, reminded you of the strength you had beside you.

You nodded, leaning into him, drawing strength from his presence. "What do we do now?" you asked, the practical part of you ready to take the next steps, no matter how daunting.

"We start by documenting everything. Every interaction you've had with him, anything that can support your case. We'll get statements from anyone who might have noticed anything during your assignment," Hotch planned out loud, his mind already sifting through procedures and protocols. "I'll talk to Strauss personally. We need to make sure this is handled by the book and with the utmost seriousness."

"And then?" Your voice was small, but your eyes were steady, meeting his.

"Then we make sure justice is served," Hotch stated simply. "And we ensure that this never happens to you, or anyone else, ever again."

The resolve in his voice was unwavering, the promise not just of a lover but of a protector, a leader.

The next day, Hotch’s steps were purposeful as he approached Erin Strauss's office, his jaw set in a firm line, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and barely contained anger. This wasn't just another bureaucratic hurdle; it was personal, and the stakes were far higher than usual.

Knocking briskly, Hotch didn't wait for a reply before pushing the door open. Strauss looked up from her desk; her expression schooled into one of cautious neutrality.

"Agent Hotchner, what can I do for you?" Strauss asked, her tone as meticulously controlled as the rest of her demeanor.

"We need to talk about an urgent matter," Hotch began, his voice laced with a severity that made Strauss straighten slightly in her chair.

"It's about the conduct of a high-ranking official in the task force assigned to an agent on my team. There have been serious allegations made against him," Hotch stated bluntly, not one to dance around the subject.

Strauss's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing over her features before she masked it with a bureaucratic calm. "I'm aware of the individual you're referring to," she said slowly. "However, you know as well as I do the complexities involved. He has significant connections, Aaron. This could become a highly volatile situation."

"That doesn't excuse his actions or absolve us of our duty to act," Hotch countered sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "We have a responsibility to protect our agents and uphold the integrity of the Bureau."

"Aaron," Strauss began, her tone firmer, more authoritative. "I understand your concerns, as well as your….personal connection to this, but we must approach this carefully. Rushing into this could backfire, not just on us but on your agent as well. We risk turning her into the subject of a very public, very messy scandal."

Hotch felt his frustration mount, the protective fury simmering beneath his cool exterior. "With all due respect, Ma'am, I'm not willing to let this go because it's complicated. If we start picking and choosing which battles to fight based on political convenience—"

"This is not about convenience, Agent Hotchner!" Strauss interrupted, her voice rising slightly for the first time. "It's about strategy. It's about ensuring we handle this in a way that ensures justice without causing unnecessary harm. I am not saying we do nothing. I'm saying we need a plan."

Hotch paused, the logical part of his brain recognizing the truth in her words, even as his emotions rebelled against the implication. "I want your assurance, then, that we will pursue this. That it won't be swept under the rug because he's 'connected.'"

"You have my word that we will take appropriate action," Strauss said, her gaze locking with Hotch's. "But I need you to be patient. Give me time to navigate this minefield. I need to talk to the Director, maybe even higher. This isn't just about the Bureau, Aaron. It's bigger than that."

Hotch's expression hardened the lines of his face set in determination. "Time is something I can give, Erin, but silence is not. If we don't see action, I will take this to every authority necessary."

Strauss met his gaze, a silent battle of wills taking place in the quiet tension of the room. Finally, she nodded. "Understood. Let's reconvene in forty-eight hours. I should have more information then."

Hotch nodded curtly, the promise of action the only thing tempering his rage as he left her office. The fight was far from over, and while the bureaucratic wheels turned slowly, his resolve was as swift and unyielding as ever. Justice, he knew, sometimes required more than just good intentions. It needed steadfast, relentless advocacy, and that was something Aaron Hotchner was all too ready to provide.

As Hotch sifted through the case files on his desk, his focus was frequently interrupted by a far more personal concern. The events involving you had left a residual tension that permeated not just his office but his every thought. It was during one of these distracted moments that he heard the familiar knock of Derek Morgan at his door.

"Come in," Hotch called, setting aside the files and steeling himself for the conversation he anticipated was about more than just BAU casework.

Derek stepped in, closing the door behind him with a seriousness that matched the gravity Hotch felt. "Hotch, I've heard about what happened. How's she holding up?" Derek's voice carried a mix of concern and protective anger.

"She's coping, Derek, but it’s far from ideal," Hotch admitted, feeling the weight of his responsibilities as both a unit chief and a partner, “She's strong, but this... this isn't something anyone should have to be strong for--what happened... it’s unacceptable."

Derek's presence was reassuring, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his resolve to address the issue. "We can't just wait for the system to grind forward. What are we doing to make sure she feels safe, not just now but in the future?" Derek asked, his stance resolute.

Leaning back in his chair, Hotch considered the proactive steps they needed to take. "Strauss is handling the investigation, but we need to tighten our own security measures. I’m thinking about revising our late-night protocols and perhaps reintroducing a buddy system."

Derek nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "And maybe we should look into a refresher on self-defense for the team. It's been a while, and it might help give everyone a bit more sense of control," he suggested.

"That’s a good point. I’ll arrange for a workshop. We should also consider implementing more discreet ways for team members to alert security. Fast and effective responses could make a big difference," Hotch said, feeling a strategic plan forming.

"Like panic buttons?" Derek proposed.

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed, his mind already running through logistics and implementations. "I'll ask Garcia to look into integrating something seamless yet powerful."

Derek’s next words struck a chord, emphasizing the culture Hotch always strived to foster within the team. "We need to make a statement, Hotch. Not just with new systems and training, but in how we handle this. We protect our own, not just out there," Derek motioned towards the world beyond their office walls, "but in here, too."

Hotch met Derek’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the shared commitment. "I agree completely. Let’s set up a team meeting tomorrow. We’ll discuss these changes openly and ensure everyone knows we’re serious about safeguarding our own."

As Derek left, Hotch turned his attention back to the files before him but with a renewed focus. The safety and well-being of his team, particularly you, now had a clear path forward. With Derek's support and the team's collective effort, Hotch was determined to transform this challenging situation into an opportunity to strengthen the BAU from within. The resolve in his heart was matched by the plans forming in his mind, and he felt ready to lead this crucial initiative.

The wheels of bureaucracy had finally begun to turn, albeit slowly. Hotch could feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere within the Bureau as whispers of the investigation started to circulate among the upper echelons. Strauss had been true to her word so far, initiating discreet inquiries that didn’t draw undue attention yet signaled a clear intent to address the allegations seriously.

However, just as Hotch was beginning to see a glimmer of progress, a new, more immediate crisis erupted. It was late in the evening, and you were at home with Hotch, the two of you trying to enjoy a quiet dinner together to take your minds off the ongoing turmoil. Your phone buzzed with the arrival of an email, and the change in your demeanor was immediate and alarming.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noting the sudden pallor that washed over your face as you stared at your screen.

“It’s him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... he’s threatening me, Aaron.”

The words hit Hotch like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened with a fury that had been simmering just below the surface, now brought to a boiling point by this new provocation. He took the phone from your hands; his movements controlled but brisk, and read the email himself.

The message was succinct, laced with venom and arrogance. The man threatened to ruin your reputation, to make sure you would never work in law enforcement again if you continued to "drag his name through the mud." The audacity of the threat, the blatant attempt to intimidate and silence you, ignited a fierce protectiveness in Hotch.

“This ends now,” Hotch said, his voice low and dangerous. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp screech. “I won’t let him get away with this.”

You reached out, touching his arm. “Aaron, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure he understands the consequences of threatening an FBI agent,” Hotch replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. “He thinks he can intimidate us into silence, but he’s gravely mistaken.”

Hotch’s first call was to Strauss, informing her of the new development. His words were clipped, his anger barely contained as he explained the situation.

“Erin, he sent a threatening email. He’s trying to intimidate her into dropping the charges. This is witness tampering, and it’s unacceptable. We need to act, and we need to act now,” Hotch insisted, his demeanor unyielding.

“We will start with securing a formal censure against him. I’ll also alert the Director immediately. This is serious, Aaron, and we’ll treat it as such,” Strauss responded, her voice reflecting a new urgency.

Satisfied that the Bureau was finally mobilizing with the necessary aggression, Hotch turned his attention back to you. He could see the fear and uncertainty that the email had sparked, and he knew he had to be the rock you could lean on.

“Listen to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re in this together, and we’re going to see it through. No one threatens you and gets away with it. Not on my watch.”

As Hotch spoke, his assurance, his unwavering support, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the darkness of the situation, with Hotch by your side, you believed that, somehow, everything might still turn out right.

Aaron Hotchner had settled into the kind of focus that came with years of late nights and urgent cases. The dim light from his desk lamp cast long shadows across the paperwork in front of him, the numbers and details blurring into a singular narrative of crime and consequence. He was deeply immersed in a complex profile, one that needed to be finished before morning, when a faint noise caused him to look up. It was a sound out of place in the quiet of the late evening, a soft shuffling, a hesitant step.

The sight that greeted him was one he was wholly unprepared for. You were leaning heavily against the doorframe, your face visibly battered and bruised, your clothing disheveled as if from a scuffle. There was a black eye forming, swelling under the stark fluorescent light, and blood was trickling from a cut on your lip, dripping onto your collar.

For a moment, Hotch froze, his brain trying to process the scene before him. His files, his profile, the pen still poised in his hand—all of it faded into irrelevance as a surge of protective anger rose within him. He was on his feet in an instant, his chair pushed back with such force it nearly toppled.

“What did he do?!” The words burst from him, laden with fury and concern as he closed the distance between you and him in a few long strides. His hands hovered just inches from you, itching to reach out, to confirm you were real and standing there, yet hesitating out of fear of hurting you further.

Your appearance was a stark, visual slap to his system, igniting a rage in Hotch that was pure and lethal, a reminder of the days when he'd hunted the most dangerous criminals. His mind raced with the implications of your injuries—how it had happened, where, and most importantly, who was responsible.

Seeing you in such a state, so vulnerable yet defiant, was more than just a call to action. It was a personal affront, a challenge to everything he stood for, both as the unit chief of the BAU and as the man who loved you. Your safety had been compromised under his watch, and the violation of that trust was something he took as a personal failure.

“Who did this?” His voice was a low growl now, demanding an answer, needing to know whom to direct his burgeoning wrath towards. The protective barrier he always maintained—the one that kept his professional judgment clear of emotional interference—was crumbling fast, chipped away by each drop of blood he saw staining your skin.

Your response was shaky but filled with a fire that spoke volumes of your resilience. “It was him. In the locker room,” you managed to say, your voice a testament to both the physical pain you endured and the psychological battle you were fighting. “There are no cameras there. He knew that.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening with resolute anger. You had defended yourself, survived, and prevailed, yet the cost was written all over your face, and it was a price too steep for him to bear without retribution.

“We’re going to Strauss now,” he stated unequivocally, the protective fervor in his voice leaving no room for negotiation. “He won’t get away with this. Not now, not ever.”

He quickly grabbed a first aid kit, gently tending to your wounds with a steadiness in his hands that belied the storm of emotions inside him. Once he was sure you were stable, he offered you his arm, ready to accompany you to Strauss’s office. The walk there was tense, each step heavy with the weight of the incident and its implications.

Upon reaching Strauss’s office, Hotch knocked firmly, not waiting for an invitation to enter. Strauss looked up, her expression turning from surprise to alarm at the sight of your condition.

“Aaron, what happened?” Strauss stood immediately, her eyes wide as they took in the visible marks of the attack on you.

“She was attacked by him, in the gym locker room. There are no cameras there. It was premeditated,” Hotch explained, his voice controlled but the underlying fury unmistakable. “She defended herself and subdued him. He’s still there, unconscious and handcuffed.”

Strauss’s face hardened, her eyes now reflecting a mix of anger and determination. “I’ll call security, have them take him into custody and ensure he’s watched until he can be formally charged. This is attempted assault on a federal agent, at the very least. We’ll push for the maximum charges.”

You nodded, leaning slightly on Hotch for support, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you, Strauss. I... I defended myself, but I want this to be handled by the book. We need to make sure he never has the opportunity to hurt anyone else.”

Strauss moved around her desk, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You did good, and I’m sorry this happened under our watch. We’ll take care of it from here. And you,” she looked at Hotch, “make sure she gets to a hospital, and then take some time off. Both of you. You need to recover from this.”

Hotch nodded, his protective instincts fully engaged as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the office. The rage still simmered within him, a fierce protectiveness that would not soon abate. But alongside it was a profound respect for your strength and resilience and a renewed commitment to stand by you, no matter what lay ahead.

That night, the world outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant as you and Aaron Hotchner returned to the sanctuary of your home. The hospital visit had been thorough but exhausting, leaving both of you drained yet relieved that nothing was critically amiss. Now, in the quiet comfort of your bathroom, Hotch took on the role of caretaker with a gentleness that made your heart swell despite the pain.

You sat on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him gather supplies—antiseptic, cotton pads, and some fresh bandages. The care with which he handled each item, his movements deliberate and focused, was a quiet testament to his concern for you. As he turned to you, his expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken promise of tenderness.

"Let's get this cleaned up," he murmured, wetting a cotton pad with antiseptic. His touch was feather-light as he dabbed at the cut on your lip, the one that had stopped bleeding but still throbbed with every movement. You flinched slightly, not from pain, but from the intimacy of the gesture, the proximity in a moment filled with so much vulnerability.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," Hotch said quietly, the weight of his emotions making his voice thick and unusually expressive. He paused, his hands steady as he tended to your wounds, but his heart was anything but calm. "I should have—"

The words trailed off as a tide of frustration and guilt surged within him. Hotch despised the feeling of helplessness, the gnawing thought that he might have prevented your pain had he anticipated the threat more effectively. It was a violation of his deepest principles, both as a protector and a partner, to see you hurt and know he had not been there to prevent it.

He gazed at your face, noting the bruises that marred your skin, each one a stark reminder of the violence you endured. It pained him to see these tangible signs of trauma on someone he cared deeply about. The instinct to shield you from harm was ingrained in his very nature, honed through years of leading a team that faced danger daily. Yet here, in the quiet of your shared space, the reality that you had faced such danger alone was a bitter pill to swallow.

As Hotch looked into your eyes, seeing the trust and understanding there despite the shadows of the recent ordeal, he felt a renewed surge of resolve. His role was not just to protect but to support and ensure such a breach never occurred again. This incident, while closed legally, would prompt him to reevaluate his own vigilance. The emotional undercurrent of this moment, the blend of regret and protective fervor, was a powerful catalyst for Hotch. It reinforced the essential truth that his duty to protect you extended beyond the physical; it was emotional, a bond forged in mutual respect and shared trials.

The silence that followed his unfinished apology was filled with a heavy understanding. He knew you didn’t blame him—you had faced the situation with incredible resilience. But he held himself to a standard that was often unrelenting. Hotch needed to articulate this, not just for you to hear, but for him to acknowledge it openly.

“You shouldn’t have had to handle this alone,” he continued, his voice firmer, reflecting his internal commitment. “I’m here, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you never feel that isolated again. We’ll increase security protocols, and I’ll personally review them.”

His promise was not just words; it was a vow, a pledge of his ongoing commitment to your safety and well-being. Hotch knew that recovery from such events wasn’t just about physical healing—it was about restoring a sense of security and normalcy. He was prepared to lead that effort, standing by you as both your staunchest ally and your devoted partner.

"Don't," you interrupted gently, placing a hand over his. "Don't do that to yourself. You couldn’t have known. And you were there when it mattered. You’ve always been."

He looked at you, really looked, as if seeing you anew, and nodded slowly. "It's over now," he reassured you and himself more than anyone. "He's in custody, and he's not getting out anytime soon. Strauss is making sure of it."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past weeks begin to lift ever so slightly. "It’s hard to believe it’s over," you admitted, allowing yourself to lean into his care, into the promise of safety his presence provided.

"It is, though. And we're going to make sure you're safe, that this never happens again," Hotch said, his voice firm with conviction. He finished bandaging a smaller scrape on your cheek, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if to impart comfort through his touch.

You reached up, your hand brushing against his. "Thank you, Aaron. For everything. I don’t know how I would have handled all this without you."

Hotch’s hand covered yours, his grip warm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this. You’ll never be," he said, his gaze holding yours. "We’re in this together, remember?"

As you nodded, a silence fell between you, comfortable and healing. It was the kind of silence that spoke of shared struggles and mutual support, of battles fought and won together. Hotch finally stood, helping you to your feet.

"Let’s get some rest," he suggested, his tone lightening a bit as he led you toward the bedroom. "You need to heal, and I need to make sure you stop finding trouble," he added, a hint of humor glimmering through the residual tension of the day.

You chuckled softly, leaning against him as you walked. "Deal," you replied, knowing that whatever the future held, you faced it not alone but together, stronger and more united than ever.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

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elizabethsnuts · 11 months ago

Note

I love your work! They're SO cute!

This request is a bit more on the angsty side though :| ...

If you're ok with it, can I request something with Hotch's toddler!daughter and the aftermath of George Foyet? OR, if you'r not feeling the angst, and if you're ok with it, maybe can we see Hotch introducing his toddler!daughter to Beth? Or re-introducing Emily as his girlfriend bc Hotchniss <3?

TYSM, sorry this was so long! Appreciate you! Keep up the awesome work!

Aftermath

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Aaron was quick to come and save you and Jack from Foyet.

A/N: I appreciate you, anon! I love you and all the support you put on my work 🫶🏻 I hope you like this! I haven’t really wrote angst before so let me know how I did!

TW: Mentions of death, funerals and blood.

———

All Aaron could feel was the rage bubbling instead of him as he landed one punch after another to Foyet’s now-lifeless body. He felt two strong arms suddenly restrain him, trying to stop him from throwing more punches.

“Hotch! Hotch! He’s dead! Hotch, stop! Come on, stop! It’s over! It’s over… it’s okay… it’s over man.”

Morgan kept his grip tight around him, making sure Aaron didn’t try and go in for another swing.

Aaron couldn’t help but break down sobbing, freeing himself from Morgan’s grip. He had to find Jack, he had to find you. He got up, stumbling into what used to be his home office. He remembered that Jack liked to sometimes hide in the box beside his desk while he worked. He opened the lid to the box and felt a small feeling of relief wash over him seeing that Jack was indeed in there, safe and unharmed. Though you weren’t there.

“I worked the case, Daddy, just like you said,” Jack announced softly, looking up at Aaron.

Aaron nodded and quickly took Jack out of the wooden box, setting him on the floor in front of him. “Jack, buddy, where’s your sister? Where’s Y/N?”

Jack looked around a gave a small shrug. “She ran off when you told me to hide.”

Aaron could hear his heartbeat in his ears, he could feel his face pale and his blood run cold, his panic for your safety making him dizzy. He nodded quickly and let JJ take Jack’s hand. “Alright, we’ll find her buddy.”

JJ took Jack away from the commotion and outside to get checked over by the EMTs. Aaron was panicking, though he was trying to stay calm, he knew Foyet wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you. You were a toddler against a full-grown serial killer.

“Y/N! Honey? Y/N! Where are you?” Aaron called out, going from room to room trying to look for you. He could only hope to god that you were okay.

Emily and Morgan were also looking around for you, checking every closet, under every bed, cabinets, and cupboards, they weren’t leaving till they found you.

“Come on out, sweetheart! It’s okay! It's Aunty Emily, your Daddy’s here too. Where are you, honey?” Emily yelled out as she searched downstairs.

Aaron opened the door to your nursery, or what was your nursery before you, Jack and Haley were placed in protective custody. He saw your closet door cracked open slightly, he took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what he could potentially see when he opened the door.

You saw the closet door open and let out a little cry, hugging your pink blankie tightly to your chest. “Daddy!”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, noticing the blood staining your tiny pink shirt. He quickly picked you up into his arms and called over his shoulder. “I found her!” He turned back to you and frantically checked you over, trying to make out if the blood belonged to you.

You were heaving with sobs, you were terrified at the whole ordeal, you were separated from Jack, and you saw your mother in a pool of her own blood. That was a lot for a 2-year-old to handle.

Aaron held you tightly to his chest and rubbed your little back, trying to provide just a bit of comfort after he confirmed that you had no life-threatening injuries. “You’re okay, Y/N… you’re alright, just breathe… just breathe.”

Aaron was trying to calm his own heart rate, taking a quick moment to catch his own breath as well as soothing you at the same time. Morgan and Emily quickly ran into the room when they heard Aaron’s yell, they both saw the blood on you.

“Is she alright? Is the blood hers?” Morgan asked quickly, yelling into the hallway of the house for a medic.

Aaron shook her head, cradling you in his arms. “No… no. She has a couple of scratches but nothing bad.” He turned to you gently. “Y/N did you see Mummy?”

You looked up and started to cry louder. “Mama got big owie! Daddy help Mama!”

Aaron didn’t have the heart to tell you what had happened just yet, not right now. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his own tears at bay but he couldn’t help the small hot tear that ran down his cheek. “Shhh… it’s okay, it’s okay.”

———

The day of Haley’s funeral came, Aaron had helped Jack into his little suit and you into your tiny black dress. It was hard to explain to a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old about the death of their mother, you didn’t quite understand what was going on, and you were still confused about when Haley was going to get back.

You looked up at Aaron as you held a white rose in your tiny hands, your pacifier in your mouth to soothe you. “When Mama back?”

Aaron gently bent down to your level, taking a slow but deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Y/N, honey… Mama’s not coming back.” He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your tiny ear.

You gave Aaron a frown and looked over towards your big brother, noticing the sombre look on his face. “Why? Where Mama?”

Aaron picked you up and set you on his hip, he gently tapped your chest. “Mama’s in here, in your heart. Forever.”

You looked a little confused but nodded slowly, the realisation that Haley wasn’t coming back was not registering in your little mind. “Mama come back.”

Aaron shook his head slowly. “Mama’s not coming back. It's okay, N/N…”

The service soon came to an end, Aaron helped you and Jack put the white roses on top of Haley’s coffin. He turned to you and Jack, “Can you say goodbye to Mummy?”

Jack nodded and waved at the coffin, blowing a kiss in its direction. “Bye, Mummy. I love you and miss you.”

You copied Jack's actions, waving and blowing a kiss. “Bye-bye, Mama! Luv you! Show you drawing when you home and we have tea party!”

Aaron knew it would take you a while to actually realise that Haley wasn’t coming home and you’d never see her again, he knew you still had that little hope in you that she’d come back, he couldn’t blame you since you were still a baby.

Haley always told you she’d come back every time she left whether that was leaving you at daycare, with her sister or simply putting you down for the night, she always promised you she’d come back. Only this time she didn’t.

#daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #toddler!reader #aaron hotchner x toddler!reader #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner angst #angst #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner #child!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader

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g4rvez-r3id · 7 months ago

Text

A Chat About Books

S5! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer catches you reading a rather disturbing book on the jet and a discussion about books and reading ensues.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of a case, discussions about a disturbing book called ‘Playground’, talks about gore (not explicit, just mentions of it in the book), mentions of murder & children dying, mentions of the Foyet arc and 5x09 “100”, reader has a fear of flying, reader is lowkey embarrassed about what she’s reading? spencer is also *lowkey* a simp? reader loves reading (heh), reader & spencer have crushes on each other but the other doesn’t know (i think that’s it, but please let me know if there’s anything i’m missing 🙏)

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i’m in the middle of reading “Playground” by Aron Beauregard and oh my god???? 😧 anyways, i wanted to write a little blurb because i get embarrassed about the amount of books i buy and read and ik spencer would never judge 😌 i love ✨projecting ✨ but i’m thinking of writing a part two with smut🤭 let me know hehehe

The case was a quick one. Sometimes, they usually weren’t and the team would probably be holed up in some random state for about a week. The longest you stayed was two.

You’d been on the team for a couple of years now and still, sometimes you never got used to flying high up in the air. You were usually terrified to fly, but over the course of you being on the team, you eventually got used to it.

And then you remembered the one thing your colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid, always suggested. Reading while flying. And it actually helped for flying on the way home. Usually flying to the case often consisted of debriefing and going over the M.O. and victimology. Flying home was always the better opportunity to get to reading your novels.

And you loved reading, so it gave you more of a reason to catch up on it. You often stuck to romance, but occasionally drifted into the horror genre, like you were now.

After the case in Minnesota — regarding your unsub killing prostitutes and then graduating to lower risk victims that reminded him of his wife who left him for his best friend — you were curled up in your seat on the jet, it’d been a while since you indulged in your reading without having your head full of thoughts. Since what happened with George Foyet taunting Hotch and his ex-wife and child going into witness protection and it ending with Haley being killed in the process, your head had been filled with so many thoughts and worries and stress for Hotch and his family that you could’ve even bury your face in a book until everything calmed down.

Spencer had noticed that you’d started reading again as he passed through the aisle on his cane and seated himself right next to you. He didn’t know what book you were reading but you’d been so focused on it, you didn’t even see that Morgan tripped over nothing in the aisle and tried to play it off like he didn’t. Usually, you’d laugh and tease Morgan like a brother since that’d always been your friendship with him but you didn’t even remove your focus from the book. Spencer thought it must’ve been that good of a book that you didn’t draw your attention to anything else.

He leaned over, trying to get a look at what you were reading but the book was nestled in your lap. “Whatcha reading?” Spencer finally asked and suddenly, your attention was finally drawn from the book. You almost flinched because you didn’t realize he was sitting next to you.

You quickly try and hide the cover since it’s a pretty gruesome sight so you turn it towards you in your lap. “Oh, it’s a— it’s a horror novel.” You tell. “You, uh, you wouldn’t like it.” You quickly add before he can ask what it was about.

“Why do you think so?” Spencer asks as he leans his cane over in the aisle.

You knew Spencer wasn’t one to judge, it’s what made liking him so easy. And yes, you’d admit it, you harbored a crush on the genius. And honestly, why wouldn’t you? He was amazing, sweet and insanely hot. He was everything you wanted in a man. You knew he probably didn’t feel the same way and that was okay. But finding out what type of horror novels you were into was probably a dealbreaker. Not just in a hypothetical relationship but in a friendship.

You see, the book you were reading was called Playground by Aron Beauregard. It was about an old woman who lured three families for their children to try out a playground structure for money. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the playground structure is basically a death trap for the children and their parents are forced to watch as their children try and survive the playground structure of death. It was your first time reading it and well, one time was definitely going to be enough.

And part of you worried about telling Spencer the exact kind of book you were reading and you worried that maybe he’d think you were some type of monster for reading a book such as the one you were holding now.

“It’s—It’s pretty gruesome.” You said and pretty gruesome was putting it lightly.

“So is what we see on a daily basis.” Spencer retorts and you nod with a small shrug, “Fair point.” You sit to face him and you begin to explain the book to him.

“It’s a different type of horror. Splatterpunk, if you will. Do you know what that is?” You ask and he nods, “A, uh, literary genre characterized by graphically described scenes of gory nature. In most cases, the gore described is extreme.” Spencer explains, literally giving you the definition he’d most likely read on paper on in a dictionary.

“Right,” You nod. “Well, the plot follows a woman by the name of Geraldine Borden. She was working on building revolutionary playground equipment for years. And she decides to invite three low-income families to the estate. All the parents have to do is have their children test out the playground equipment but — there’s a twist. The playground structure is actually full of death traps and the children are pretty much in danger the entire book and unfortunately, the parents are forced to watch as the children try to escape. Spoiler alert: I’m pretty sure none of them make it.” That was just a guess, it was your first time reading it after all.

“I thought you only read romance books.” Spencer stated and you shrugged, “I change it up a bit once in a while. I found this book online on some blog. A lot of people were talking about specific pages and parts in the book and well, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Why do you read splatterpunk?” Spencer decides to ask you and you look down at the book and then back at him as you admit — “Is it bad if I say it helps with my profiling?” Spencer furrows his brows as he looks at you curiously — “Really?”

“Yeah, in some of the books I read in this genre, the main character is usually a serial killer. Or killing is involved in the most extreme of ways. It helps you really get into the mind of a killer and see why they do what they do. If it makes sense without sounding totally crazy.” You explain, hoping to God that you don’t sound insane for using extreme books such as the one you’re reading now to get a deeper understanding about your job.

“I don’t think it sounds crazy,” Spencer interjected with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just a different perspective on things.” You stare into his eyes with a smile and surely enough, you can just get lose into those hazel pupils of his. How a man can be as beautiful as him should be a damn crime.

You turn back to the cover of your book and set it down, the cover facing upwards and seemingly feeling a little secure in what you’re reading without feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, well, this is my first time reading this book and well, probably will be my only time.”

“I’m assuming that the next time we’re in this position, you’ll be reading romance.” Spencer tells, considering that every time you’re on the jet, you’re reading a new romance book. The last time you were on the jet, you were reading a book called Praise and the author was Sara Cate. Spencer had gathered it was an erotic book, solely based on the fact that your face had flushed a couple of times while reading it and commenting that you needed to put a pause on reading until you got back home. He’d wished to know what exactly you were going to do once you got home that night.

“Oh, for sure. Those usually cheer me up from stuff like this.” You gesture to the book in front of you. “I’ve got to stop buying books, though.” You sigh sadly.

“When I was younger, my mother had always commented that I bought too many books. Said I should use the money for something a tad more useful. I can’t tell you how many Stephen King books I bought when I finally got a job. Every paycheck, it was a new book. I guess I need to outgrow the habit, sometime.” You look down, growing embarrassed again that you just spewed all of that to Spencer.

“I don’t think you can never have enough books,” Spencer tells. “No matter if it’s silly little romance books or anything of the horror genre, reading is a part of life. We shouldn’t shame other people for what we like.” He explains and you find yourself smiling again at him. “You’re right.”

Before you can go back to reading your book, you yawn behind your hand and Spencer leans over, “You should get some rest before we land.” He suggests, considering the fact that the entire time you were both in Minnesota, you barely slept. You drank coffee the entire time you were there, not wanting to bat an eye and have the unsub strike again. The most you slept was two to three hours at most. Both of your young minds working together would be the death of you one day.

You shake your head, “Oh, no. I’ll be fine.” Spencer looks at you carefully, “I know you’ll be fine, but you should get some rest. A short nap can often improve memory, improve job performance, lift your mood, make you more alert, and ease stress. They can also be good for your heart, too.”

You nod, your eyelids seemingly growing heavy after Spencer had talked to you about naps. “If you insist, pretty boy.” Stubborn as you were, the only person that could get you break was Spencer. He knew you were independent and always assured everyone you were fine. But Spencer always saw through it. You weren’t sure how he did, but he did, every single time.

So, you put your book down on the table and curled up in your seat as your head fell towards the armrest. Spencer had been in arm’s reach of the couch and grabbed the throw blanket that was perched there and quickly tossed it over your body. You looked down at you with a small smile on his face.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he always liked you. Like liked you more than a colleague. He liked you-liked you. There was something about you that lit up a room, something that he often noticed. And the fact that you’d had so much knowledge of books and the way you seemed to enjoy explaining a plot to him reminded him of himself a lot. You were so passionate about reading and books and he loved that little fact about you. He loved you. He loved your smile, your personality, your body.

And he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to tell you that. And he hoped that maybe one day, he’d stop being a chicken for once and actually tell you how he feels about you.

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader #g4rvez-r3id #spencer reid x fem!reader

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bedouinpoet · 7 months ago

Text

Leader, lover, sir, and broken dream

Aaron Hotchner x (BAU) fem reader

Continuation of Permission and offices and punishments. Three part story. Took me a hot minute to finish it but hope you like it part 2 and 3 will be done soon! Hope you enjoy my lovelies. Not much SMUT in this chapter but a ton in the next two chapters 🫣

CHAPTER 1

It had been a year since Haley was murdered by George Foyet aka the reaper. That day tore down everything for Hotch…for Jack…and for you. Her funeral was the day Aaron Hotchner decided to end it with you. You felt your heart rip apart he was pushing you away. After everything you both went through together, even when Haley and Jack were in witness protection things may have gotten rocky but you got to be there for him but there was this feeling of guilt that you were together while they were in witness protection. But you and the team were all doing everything you possibly could to take Foyet down but when all was said and done…you remember that day, every day like it was only moments before.

…

1 year ago, Haley’s funeral.

Everything feels so surreal for the whole team, everyone just trying to see what you could do for Aaron “I just feel so awful, maybe I should send them gift basket or or or I don’t know home made cookies, or brownies or wine I don’t know-“ you give Pen a hug to cool down her spiral as she starts to tear up “hey whatever you give them they will love, Jack happens to love double chocolate and Hotch likes simple chocolate chip you wink and wipe away her tears “they’ll be okay pen, its just gonna take time and a whole lot of support from us when their ready” She smiles and nods giving you one more grateful hug. You spend an hour talking with people sharing memories, you notice Hotch has been avoiding you but you shake it off you can’t imagine what he’s going through all you can do is be patient and be there for him as best you can but its getting hard when all you want to do is hold him, tell him it will be alright. Give Jack-o-lantern a big hug. But for some reason you can’t. You keep glancing at Hotch and notice he started fidgeting with his index and thumb, he always does that when he’s nervous or a million miles away so you shoot him a text

Y/N: Hey, if you need a drink or some fresh air just let me know , how are you right now? <3

You see Hotch take his phone, read your text…then put it back, he’s never done that, he really is avoiding you. You once again shake it off as Derek comes over beside you. “He’ll be okay pretty girl” and you start to feel your eyes burn with tears, the emotions you’ve been burying rise to the surface, Morgan is always able to get you and he hugs you without you needing to say a word and you stay in his arms for a moment “I know guess I just feel so useless. How are you feeling by the way DM?” He laughs into your hair, you started calling him that after a flirty joke you told Morgan to piss off Hotch and get punished after work “Derek Morgan can fill my DM’s anytime”

Hotch tied you to the bed and didn’t let you cum for an hour after that.

“I’m alright pretty girl just worried about Hotch and Jack but they are both tough they’ll get through it” you find yourself hugging him tighter not realizing how badly you needed to be hugged like this….then you get a text

Hotch: meet me outside in five…please…the balcony

you turn to see but Hotch is already gone. As you step out onto the balcony you face Aaron’s back. Even after everything he’s gone through he always stands tall, the air and silhouette of a leader. And he fidgets with his index and thumb, you clear your throat and he turns around his face softens from surprise to familiarity “you were a million miles away huh?” He tilts his head in curiosity and it takes everything in you to not just go and kiss that adorable face…but some thing about the way he looks at you stops you. Even from grabbing his hand. You just put your hands in your pockets “What’s up handsome? Where’s your head at right now?” He swallows hard and for the first time ever it seems like Aaron Hotchner….was scared to say whatever he wanted to say. “Aaron? What is it? talk to me” you reach for his hand finally and for a moment everything is okay for a moment Hotch is back to being your Hotch, your Aaron, then it crashes, he lets go of your hands and ”I don’t think we should continue this anymore…”

”I’m sorry? Continue what?”

”this….us…”

you try and tell yourself this is a trick of your mind, your ears something in your body is just playing some sick joke…it must be

“wait…are you ….Aaron are you breaking up with me?”

You see Hotch’s eyes swell with tears and you know one more word and the dam breaks as he nods

“what? No? Aaron, Hotch honey right now you’ve gone through something unimaginable and its fine if you need me to give you and Jack some space to settle but please please don’t do this, don’t do what you always do when your in pain don’t push me away we don’t have to end this, us, after how hard we-“

”but we do don’t you see? Haley-“

the dam shatters to a million pieces but he keeps going “While Haley and jack- my son! Were in witness protection , while Foyet was hunting them like dogs, you and I were” his sobs began to break through and it was like time stopped for you as you felt every brick of the wall he tore down, slowly build back up. You say nothing as he continues “I just can’t…I don’t know if we can go past this cause everytime we’ve kissed since…I just can’t…I think its safer if we just stop now”

”Safer for whom?” You want to cry, to shout, to push him, to hug him but you can’t you just stand there eyes burning looking at the man you love push you away and your entirely powerless. You notice your question took him by surprise

“well…you said safer …safer for whom, you or me? Cause I think you’re scared, and hurt and so you do what you always do when you’re in pain and your scared of losing someone else you love and I think that’s really why your saying this”

don’t cry is all you can think as as Hotch cries. You realize you’ve never really seen him cry like this and you also realize . He is already going through hell, if this is what he wants you can’t make it harder on him especially not now.

“No I’m saying this because it’s the truth. Right now I need to focus on Jack we are done…I’m sorry y/n I really really am…tell me what I can do-“

“nothing-“

”wh-what?”

”there is nothing you can do…you clearly Made your choice. I wont beg, and I wont make this harder for you right now you need to take care of yourself and Jack …it’s fine I understand . It was nice while it lasted and hopefully we can still be friends especially since we work together -“

“of course but y/n-“

he tries to grab your hand but its too late you are already walking away with a text from Morgan

Derek: we got another case :(

“its fine Hotchner….no worries I get it goodbye” no more calling him Aaron…Aaron was for a different time a happier time so you leave making sure not to look back or else he’d see the tears streaming down your face and your body almost shut down….as you walk away from your dream and build back those brick walls this time with iron steel

…

back to present 1 year later

”remind me again why we can’t make paperwork illegal?”

You sigh placing another file on the mountain on your desk, leaning back on your chair you allow yourself a glance at Hotch. Since the breakup you have kept your distance but he always made it so hard. After a few months he started having you drive in the the same car again, teaming up more often and you always made sure to act like you didn’t care.

“I know what you mean pretty girl Damn, my hand is about become a permanent claw if only SOMEONE would take us out of our misery and can read all this in five minutes…what do you say pretty boy?”

you and Morgan both look at Reid with pleading eyes, you’re practically pouting and without even looking up from his page Reid shakes his head smiling “not a chance”

“ughhhhh” you and Derek both groan in unison

“I think that’s Spence”s way of saying ‘how can you do your job properly without doing the paper work or the statistics on how we can we improve our speed reading by doing more paperwork-“

“actually statistically the average person learns their reading timing by the age of 15 although with practice you can improve your timing by practice but its best to practice before the age of 40 or else it becomes far more difficult. So Technincally the human mind can learn to read 4.5 seconds faster the more you train it to skim whilst still retaining the information-“

“Spence Spence….JJ was just being sarcastic hun” you pat him on the shoulder “bless my wee lamb” (every time you call him that he blushes how could you resist) “ohhhh” he mearly nods and continues to read as you all laugh before continuing your own work. When you see Pen coming out of Hotch’s office…”we have a case my lovelies…off to the round table my knights of shining armour…or leather for my handsome man and pretty girl Morgan and y/n”

you and Morgan high five in mini celebration “saved by the bell!”

“So you are all heading to Dallas Texas home of hot cowboys, horses annnnd creepy serial killers apparently…this is Victoria Baird a 23 year old sophomore in college, last night she was taken from her car after a frat party….”

“Any idea if she was on anything?”

”not according to her friends apparently she rarely drinks and last night she was the appointed designated driver-“ before you could ask anything further you notice Pens face fall further “alas my beautiful family there’s more and the real reason Dallas PD invited us….this is Patty Sybil, Cherry Smith, Liz Barton, in the past three weeks each were grabbed on a Friday and found the next Friday, ME says they were dead less then an hour before they were found so they were killed that day.”

“One a week that’s a short cooling off period, all brunettes, short hair, brown to hazel eyes, he definitely has a type these girls look like they could be sisters-“ you notice Hotch’s eyes never leaving you…maybe he notices what you unfortunately already picked up on…these girls looked a hell of lot like you….you remember comforting JJ a lot when the cases had to do with young blond women around her age and looked like her….it was tough…and now you understand even more how it can make you feel when the victimology hits too close to home…its a haunting feeling but you shake is off reminding yourself this is about them and finding the son of a bitch hurting these innocent girls all because they wanted to party…these girls had a right to feel safe no matter what they were doing. And its about finding Victoria-

“if we’re right Victoria Baird only has till Friday to live… wheels up in 20” Hotch is the first to grab his go bags and leave. You, Reid and JJ agree to get the coffee on your way promising Em to pick up her caramel Machiatto with soy.

…..

On the Plane you take your usual corner seat legs up leaning against the wall. Missing the days when you always sat by Hotch, secretly getting a hand grab or thigh grab when no one was watching but you liked your corner, your corner was safe, your corner was farthest away from Hotch but still part of the conversation. You try to make notes in the file as you notice a pattern.

“Hey Pen?”

“Yes beautiful girl?”

“You said that Victoria was the DD and apparently Cherry Smith was partying with her friends but she was 4 years sober and apparently didn’t break it…what was Liz Bartons drinking habit? Especially the night she was taken?” Everyone looks down except Hotch whose eyes remain on you hanging on your every word. “thaaaat is a good question….acording to her friends she wasn’t much of a drinker and…” Garcia’s eyes widen, you were right “she was the DD the night she was taken”

“THATS another connection our unsub likes the responsible type but why? I mean it would be a lot easier to take someone when their inhibitions are lowered by alcohol, not that I’m victim blaming ever…person has every right to go enjoy themselves and be safe doing it but yet the unsub takes those whose alert is probably at the highest..”

“why do you say that?” Reid gives you your coffee and sits besides you as you share your blanket

“when you’re a girl…and with your girlfriends you know the risks…all girls do and when your the DD there is an unspoken responsibility to keep tabs on everyone to keep your girls safe and-“

For a moment you picture yourself in the bar as the unsub, who and what would you look for? How to catch her off guard. Your brain is going faster then you realize until you hear Hotch’s voice bring you back to reality as he seems to read your mind, he always does.

“Which makes her the perfect target, she’s so focused on everyone else’s safety she doesn’t pay attention to the man that’s focused on her” you nod your head taking a moment longer to keep eye contact with Hotch so you quickly look away clearing your suddenly dry throat.

“Exactly! Plus her other friends were intoxicated so none of them are paying much attention to the perv in the corner”

you find yourself able to sit a bit taller and you try not to smile but you always feel this way when you crack something new in the case, a small insurance that you belong in this team. But your smile fades as you notice Hotch looking at you even while Rossi’s talking and you can’t read his eyes but you swear there’s a hint of a smile in his face, pride? No that can’t be it you think looking away and staying relatively quite the rest of the flight only talking to Spencer who’s feet are now up as you both share the blanket comfortably and he rests his hand casually on your shin that’s by him covered up. Hotche’s eyes darken as he notices the level of casual touch between you two. The moment you landed in Dallas it was non stop. Hotch tried to pair you off with him when “actually is it ok if y\n comes with me? I think she could give more insight plus she’s the youngest and college students would be more likely to open up to her-“

“plus my wee lamb needs a wing woman with all them college girls” you hug Reid and kiss his cheek teasingly as he fake pushes you away but you notice Reid’s blush and Hotch stares daggers in your directions but he gave in “fine- Reid and y/n you two go to the college and the frat house Victoria was last seen in, JJ you’re with me to coordinate with local law enforcement” and you all part says in your respective SUVs “don’t worry wee lamb you can be passenger princess” you wink at Reid and he shakes his head and laughs “gee thanks”…..

“so do you remember if anyone was paying particular attention to Victoria? Anyone come up to her?” Reid begins to ask questions to the victims friend Lindsey as you look outside of the frat house, no signs of a struggle. “No-no I don’t know there was a few guys, but everyone loved Vickie and she’s so pretty-“

you sense a tinge of jealousy at those final words as she looked off when she spoke. You and Reid gave knowing looks, you’d discuss that later. “Did she reject anyone? Any of them take it hard?” You ask stepping closer. Lindsey shakes her head “I don’t think so, it was just a fun party everyone having a good time” you could tell she was holding something back. You push further. “Come on Lindsey…I need you to think, you said a few guys hit on her? So she must have rejected at least one of ‘em at least right? Think”

“okay yea…yea one of the guys struck out with Vic, he was this shorter white guy, he kept trying but Vic just wasn’t into it, he throw a glass on the ground, so a couple of the guys kicked him out”

Reid adds on to the questioning “do you remember anything else about the guy? Hair colour maybe? Eyes, anything distinctive?” “yea blond I think but the lights were crazy that night, colourful, and music was loud bumpin-“

Reid looks at you for translation and you laugh lightly

“she means the music was good ya nerd”

you nudge him, loving his innocence even when he’s supposed to be the older one…

the rest of the day went the same way, two more mentions of the supposed “short blonde white dude” but with no other descriptions or leads, Hotch called it a night. As you step up to the front desk of the hotel a feeling of Deja vu washed over you when the women says “sorry agents we’re almost entirely full a couple conferences in the city we only have four rooms available, two king, two double twin”

Before anyone could say anything Rossi takes one of the kings for himself “sorry kids I am not sharing a room again too old and consider this pay back for the two bottles of hundred dollar scotch you party animals drank at my house.” Everyone rolled their eyes but you couldn’t argue as he was already walking to the elevator waving while it closed, Emily and JJ paired off which left you with Morgan, Reid ….and Hotch. Whatever happens you knew you couldn’t pair off with Hotch it would be too hard, too painful. Your head spiralled, Hotch was clearly looking at you ready to speak when Reid saves the day and you could just kiss him for it “hey y/n wanna room? We can watch that documentary on Arthurian history we talked about?” You can’t help but smile widely loving your bestie more and more. “hell yea we can, but we are gonna have to get some chips, can’t have a documentary night without proper snack action, we’ll take the king” you wink at Reid and he shakes his head as you notice Hotch staring at you with a shocked expression at your ease to share a bed with your bestie. But Reid breaks the tension. “Deal ill go get them and meet you upstairs”

”sounds gucci handsome I’ll take your bag just get my chips.” You grab Reids go bag and you nudge Morgan as you notice him laughing “y’all really are nerds…I mean I expected that from pretty boy but you too y/n?”

“Hey! I’m a nerd and proud you’re just jelly cause you aren’t part of the King Arthur legends snack party” you stick your tongue out and tease morgan more as Hotch hands him the room key pretending to ignore the conversation but you could tell he’s hanging on every word. You all go into the elevator and you put your bag and Reid’s bag down giving your exhausted arms a break. When the elevator door opens on your teams floor before you can react Hotch grabs your bag silently, you don’t argue you just grab Reids bag and head to your door, before Morgan steps into his own room he makes sure to wink at you “hey you and pretty boy better not get too crazy.” “no promises” you wink back sticking your tongue out as you go into your own hotel room followed closely by Hotch so close you feel yourself barely able to breath. As you get into the room you gently put Reid’s bag down on the rather smaller looking king size bed then as you turn around you notice Hotch putting your bag down on the bench close to the door, staring at the bed, looking none too happy. The silence deafening so you try to break it as casually as possible “welllp thanks Hotch!”

“What’s going on between you and Reid?”

and that hit of Deja vu strikes again for the second time today remembering him asking a similar question regarding Morgan. Yet you’re still caught by surprise by the question all the same. “I’m sorry?” His face remains at his neutral seriousness but his jaw is clenching, he does that when he’s proper angry. “are you and agent Reid dating yes or no?” You start to feel anger sizzling at his authoritative, ownership tone. As if he has some right to know everything about your sex or relationship life. This time for some reason you wanna see where this goes so you play with him. “maybe….its not really your concern Hotchner” it was his turn to act surprised. “excuse me? It’s my business as your boss-“

you feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface and shockingly it’s followed by your eyes filling with tears

“oh for fuvk sakes Hotch don’t give me that Bull! Garcia and Kevin dated and it was fine. YOU AND I (the tears start to fall) and worked and did our job fine so don’t act like this is work related cause that’s bullshit Aaron Hotchner….you’re jealous and THATS the real reason and we both know it. Why can’t you just admit it!?” You feel your face burning, your whole body shakes and you feel, whatever was keeping you together, break, and you notice his fist clenching, his eyes darken and without half a second passing his hand is grabbing your waist and his lips crash into yours. In that moment you feel like you’re coming home. Your hands run through his hair your other hand grabbing his tie but as you feel his hand run under your shirt carressing your bare skin, something in you pushes him away, “no no I can’t do this-“ you take a step back

“y/n? What’s wrong?” His face flushed yet filled with concern and the dam breaks, the rope snaps. Your breath still heavy but you continue “we can’t do this…fuck why Hotch? Why? First you break up with me, you broke me! And now what ? You wanna fuck me just cause you see me with someone else on the team?” He shakes his head profusely “no-no no sweet-“

”don’t call me that! You lost the that right when you ended it…”

You notice the hurt in his eyes but you can’t you just can’t, he broke you last time. Hotch takes a deep breath

“okay…I apologize, but that’s not it y/n I-“

”Then what? Huh!?cause we both know-its only been a year, we fuck, I let you back in, then something makes you feel guilty and you drop me again….I can’t handle it I already lost you once….if I lose you again it would kill me, and this time I wouldn’t recover just-“ you feel your eyes burn with your pain “just get out Hotch, we’ll forget about the whole thing just go! Please!” Before he could protest you started to cry completely and your face spilt with your pain, apparently Hotch could see that because he didn’t argue, he stood up straight and walked out closing the door gently as you fall onto the bed, face in your hands trying to hide your hurt from the empty room as you feel yourself break all over again but you swore this time….you weren’t going to let him hurt you again….

to be continued

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x y/n

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bked0n-lorazepam · 1 year ago

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Hi. I was wondering if you were still writing for George Foyet? If so could you possibly write about him targeting the reader but when he goes to kill her he has this odd attraction to her and takes her and they fall in love. Could be a little angsty with some reaper torture but ends in fluff

Hey babes, I'll be happy too! I'm thinking about making this one into a bit of a story, and since I write in bulk it might take a hot minute. Just know that this one is on it's way! (I'll always write for Foyet, he's so fine 🤭)

#x reader #george foyet x reader #george foyet #criminal minds #boston reaper

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hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds · 1 year ago

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could we do hothners daughter (10-13) in there when hailey dies, and when she sees hotch just jumps into hos arms so so fast! you can end there or do like a time skip where shes getting nightmares and just sleeps with het dad as he comforts her!!! love your writting🤍

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter reader

Request : could we do hothners daughter (10-13) in there when hailey dies, and when she sees hotch just jumps into hos arms so so fast! you can end there or do like a time skip where shes getting nightmares and just sleeps with het dad as he comforts her!!! love your writting🤍

So sorry for not updating for a while, I finally have a week off from college to write!

I do love writing Aaron Hotchner x child readers.

Lots of angst in this one like usual

Third person pov...

They were supposed to be safe from Foyet. Haley, Jack and 12 year old Y/N where in witness protection, Y/N was out with her Mum and Brother.

Jack and Y/N are walking together when Haleys phone goes off, stopping she gasps making Y/N look up at her Mum worried. "What's wrong mum?" She asks, Haley looks down at her daughter and tries not to cry.

She couldn't tell her kids their dad was dead. She smiles at her ans brushes her hair off her forehead. "Nothing sweetie but we have to get home quickly" she tells her daughter, the three get back to their car and drive home.

Once they get to their own home Haley sends Jack and Y/N off to play in the living room while she waits for the new marshal to appear.

Aftwr a couple of minutes Y/N stood up to go to the bathroom, as she left the door bell went, Haley answered it and in came George Foyet.

Y/N had begged her dad to show her what Foyet looked like just incase before they went into witness protection.

As Y/N walked back to the living room she heard a man's voice, she didn't recognise it. Tiptoeing silently towards the door she looked through a crack in it and gasps at the man.

"Foyet" she whispers to herself, the killer was currently playing with her little brother while her mum stood infront of them. Haley makes eye contact with her daughter.

She shakes her head slightly, telling her daughter to stay out of the living room, Y/N nods and hears her mum talk to someone on the phone.

"Aaron your okay?" Gaps Haley, Y/N eyes widened it was her Dad. Her parents talk a while with Foyet looking over at them a couple times.

"Haley, are Y/N and Jack there?" He asks

"Yes, Aaron what is going on?" Asks Haley, Hotch hesitates "hes Foyet, he's there to kill you, I'm sorry I couldn't stop him Haley" Says Hotch voice full of emotion.

Haley holds back her tears as Aaron tell Jack to 'work the case with him' Jack leaves the room running into Y/N who helps him hide before going back to her mum.

On her way back downstairs she goes into the kicken and grabs one of the big kichen knifes, hiding it in her waistband the 13 year old goes to the living room.

Suddenly three gunshots are heard, Y/Ns eyes widen with horror she runs back downstairs into living room and slams the door open forgetting about Foyet.

She cries with anguish as she spots her mum on the floor lifeless. "Mum! No nono you can't die no Mummy!" She cries hugging the body tightly.

The phone next to her is silent, the team had beeb listening into it, Hotch hates how sad his daughters voice sounds through the phone.

As she hugs her mum she feels a tap on the shoudler, wide eyed she jumps back away from her mum and away from tjr killer.

"Well well well, what have we here Hotchs daughter, cute thing you are" he tells the girl, shaking in fear Y/N stands up facing the man.

"You killed her you bastard!" She screams tears rolling down her eyes as she watched the sick basterd smirk at her. "I did, you and your brother will be next!" He yells before trying to grab her.

Y/N ducks and moves towards the door, she had to keep him downstairs. Turning around she looks for something to throw and remembers the knife in her waistband.

Holding it put at arms length she keeps the man infront of her. "You wknt find him I won't let you" she tells the man, Foyet on smirks and walks towards the teen.

Suddenly Y/N wakes up screaming murder, she whips her head around the dark room still screaming. Legs tangled in thr sheets the young girl desperately tries to stand up and run.

Her door is then opened and the light switched on, standing in the doorway was her Dad. Seeing his daughter crying and panicking he jumps into action.

He makes sure she sees its him before moving towards the 14 year old, it had been 2 year since the death of her mum and facing the reaper.

Every night she gets horrible vivid night terrors of that day, she hasn't be able to sleep since. Hotch begins to comfort his distraught daughter.

The man runs over to his daughter and sits on the bed holding his daughters hands tightly in his giving her pressure to help ground her.

"N/N its me its Dad, your safe remember the reaper is dead, he can't hurt you anymore." He tells the girl, Y/N shakes her head and cries in his arms.

Holding her tightly he's reminded of that day...

It wasn't until half an hour later when he arrived at his own home, dread filled his heart as walked inside to see his exwife shot.

Suddenly the sounds of grunting and screaming could be hear, the man sprint off if the direction and sees his daughter fighting for her life against Foyet.

"Y/N!" He yells emptying his clip into Foyet, when he was down Y/N leaps into her Dads arms and cries she cries and cries and cries.

It took a while for her to be okay and let go of her Dad, after that she was taken out of school for a few months to recover and started seeing a shrink.

Since then Y/N hadn't been the same, rocking back and forth Hotch rubs a comforting hand up his daughter back.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she could breath again. "Dad?" She calls, Hotch hums and continues comforting her. "C-can I sleep with you tonight?" She asks

Hotch kisses he forehead. "Of course you can sweetie" he whispers before picking her up and wrapping her in her blankets, they then leave her room Hotch turns off thr light and walk to his room.

As they do they walk past Jack's room, Hotch was lucky Jack had been staying with Jessica while he looked after Y/N, he didn't want him to have to listen to her screaming all night.

When they got to his room he pulled back the coverd and tucked his little girl in before getting in beside her, once he was under the covers Y/N curls up against her dad and falls into a finally restful sleep.

Smiling softly Hotch wishes her good night and falls into a dreamless sleep.

The end!

Hope you liked this oenshot, so sorry for the wait, as usual sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes!

Requests are open!

Word count: 1233

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tjwritesfanfics · 11 months ago

Text

Perfect plan (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Unsub!Reader

Summary: You had no problem teaming up with George Foyet if it meant you could get rid of Haley Hotchner.

Rating: Angst

Warning: Death, killing, no one knows the reader is involved, a lot of cm darkness and unsettling nature, the reader is very convinced she's doing the right thing

Words: 1809

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

An thank you to @tudorscrown for the idea!

You've loved Aaron Hotchner since high school.

He's loved Haley since then too. And she won. Not that she deserved him. The only good thing to come from her was Jack. Sweet little Jack was the only thing keeping you from killing Haley right out. Instead you became “best friends” with her. That way you could spend as much time with Aaron and Jack as you wanted.

You were there to watch her grow insecure with Aaron being away all the time, pretending to comfort her and reassure her of how much he loved her and jack. Honestly you were amazed by your own acting skills and the ability to hold back what you truly wanted to say to her.

Aaron is the best husband.

You’re such a bitch and don’t deserve his love.

He should be with me.

You are so lucky you have the sweetest little boy on the planet otherwise I would snap your fucking neck.

But you held back.

Even when Haley and Aaron divorced, you knew his heart still belonged to her, leaving no room for you. You knew that if you were to have him all to yourself, she would have to die.

It was only a matter of time that you met George Foyet. He came up to you, planning on killing you, the start of his plan to get back at Aaron, but you convinced him that you knew a better way.

Why just kill the people Aaron Hotchner was close to? Why not do a little psychological torture first? George liked the way you thought and, though begrudgingly, agreed to spare Jack. That took some time for him to agree with, but you refused to help him and in fact actively worked against him and promised him he would never get revenge.

Deep inside he knew you would and make his plans ten times more difficult, so he agreed. He just needed a little bit of insurance first. And that is why he stabbed you several times before leaving you bleeding in the park. Reaching for your phone, you called Aaron.

“A Aaron...”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” You smile hearing the panic in his voice. Ah to know how much he loved you. “What happened?”

“Foyet-" You swallow the pain of the wounds starting to really hurt. You would have to remember to return the favor when you saw him again. "H he…”

You needed to say no more for Aaron to spring into action, getting your location by Garcia hacking into your phone, calling 911, and rushing to your side. He held your hand in the ambulance as you weakly recalled the “events” of the evening to him. How Foyet approached you, said something about a deal, and proceeded to stab you.

“Shhh,” Aaron brushed back your hair, “You did good. Rest now.” You close your eyes, his presence warming your heart.

It was only a matter of time before Aaron realized that Foyet would come after you again plus his ex-wife and son. He knew he would have to protect you all by putting you in Witness Protection and sending you far away.

You kept Foyet in the loop on not only your location, but the location of Haley and Jack, who both of the handlers assigned to your cases. In turn he gave you updates on Aaron.

Though you were used to not seeing him for long periods of time, you were missing him. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of being with Aaron and Jack.

Finally, the day came.

You were seated beside Jack, watching Foyet and him play with his little toy soldiers, your emotions completely in check as to not give away the ending of this day or how giddy you were about it.

“Here. Call this number.” Foyet handed Haley the phone. She pressed call, placing it on speaker, freezing when Aaron’s voice came over the phone. “Foyet.”

“Aaron? You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She looked so confused until Foyet looked up at her, the pieces falling into place. “Oh Aaron.” She breathed, tears welling in her eyes.

“He can hear us, right?”

“Yes.” She wiped at her face, her tears sparking more joy in you. “I am so sorry.”

“Haley, show him no weakness. No fear.”

“I know… Sam and Y/n told me all about him.”

“Is she there with you? Is Jack?” Always the caring man, checking in on your and his son. “They are. I is he?”

“No, Sam is fine.”

You and Foyet knew Kassmeyer was dead, he had to pretend to figure out where he would get your locations without revealing your involvement. He told you that he was going to stop by there and kill him for a little bit of fun.

“Oh Aaaron, Aaron, Aaron-” You didn’t like the condescending voice he was using towards him. “Is that why your marriage fell apart? Because you’re a liar?”

You bit the inside of your cheek so you didn’t roll your eyes. Aaron wasn’t a liar, he was just a protector of the truth. Turning back to Jack, you push back his hair, assuring him everything was going to be okay as you fill your eyes with terror passing between Foyet and Haley.

“Tell Jack I need him working the case.”

Haley nods, looking over to Jack and you. “Jack? Did you hear that?” Jack jumped up from his spot, rushing to his mother to take the phone. “Hi daddy.”

You couldn't help but smile a little at Jack. He was such a sweet little boy and honestly didn’t deserve to deal with this. It was the only guilt you held being a part in all of this.

Aaron told Jack that he needed him working the case with him again before telling him to hug his mother. Haley squeezed him tight, knowing this would be the last time she got to ever hold him before letting him go, watching him run out the room.

“He’s so cute. Like a little junior G man.” Foyet watched Jack go before calling out, “I’ll be right out Jackie-boy!”

You glare at him, daring him to even think about going after that little ball of wonder, but Foyet seemed to ignore you, his mind already made up. Standing, you made your way over to Haley, taking her hand in yours and giving it a squeeze, trying to convince her you were her friend up until the very end.

Foyet saw the act of comfort, scoffing as he pointed the gun at you. “I want you to wait in the other room.” Haley gripped your hand tighter, not wanting to lose her only lifeline besides her ex-husband on the phone. You tried to stay, moving yourself behind her, appearing like you don’t want to leave her side, but you really wanted the satisfaction of seeing her get shot. You waited for years for this bitch to die, and you weren’t going to let Foyet take that away.

“Come on, come on.” Foyet took your arm, taking you to the other room. “I’ll get to you in a second, beautiful.” You cringe at the sound of his voice. He really was going to leave you here? In a normal situation, someone would try to fight back while he is distracted, but all you did was lean against the wall, waiting and listening.

Haley talked about love, and it made you sick. Love. She didn’t love him; not like you did. Your anger was quickly dissipated by the sound of several gunshots.

You poke your head back into the other room, a wicked grin spreading across your face. Before saying anything you walk over and pick up the phone Haley held in her dead hand, making sure the call was ended. The last thing you needed was to accidentally give yourself away.

Before you could say anything though, the clicking sound of the safety and the cold steel of Foyet’s gun pressed into your back. “I should have seen this coming, honestly.”

“You should have, but I’m not going to kill you.”

“Oh?”

Foyet lowered his gun, rounding to the front of you, a grin of his own on his lips. “Nope. I am going to leave you alive and then when Aaron gets here, I am going to let him know that it was you that led me to his wife and kid. So, while they are dead, you live, and he hates you.”

You stood in silence as he told you his master plan, just like a real super villain, it was honestly kind of funny to hear. You saw his plan coming a mile away, but let him play it out because you had a trick up your own sleeve.

In a flash, you grab his arm, yanking him forward and throwing him off while your other hand grabs his gun. The two of you continue to wrestle, falling to the ground, rolling around before the loud sound of a gun rang in your ears.

You pull back, peering down at Foyet as his wide eyes stare up at you, his hand gripping his stomach as blood seeped from his now fresh gun wound.

“I knew you would try and kill me, but I wasn’t going to let you.” You aim the gun at his head. “You see the difference between you and me, George, is that I’m not pride driven. Just in love.”

He laughed. “Love?! You don’t love him! You’re obsessed! You think just because you get his wife out of the way he’ll just suddenly accept you?!”

You clench your jaw, pressing the gun harder into his forehead. “He will! I will help him and Jack through this tough time! He loves me!” You take a deep breath to center yourself. Foyet was just trying to buy time until Aaron showed up to catch you in the act. Chucking at his ploy, you smile.

“I see what you were doing, but it’s not going to work. Because unlike you, I’m not sloppy.”

You pull the trigger. Ending the terror that was George Foyet.

The door banged open, Aaron rushing in to see you standing over Foyet’s dead body, gun in your hand and Haley dead on the floor. “Aarron!”

He was numb, tears streaking down his face as he went to Haley, clenching her tightly as his stoic composure finally broke. It hurt you to see him like this, but you knew it was for the best. “I’m so sorry Aaron.” Tears welling in your eyes, dropping the gun.

“You..” Aaron pulled back from Haley, taking your hand into his, “There was nothing you could do.”

You grip his hand tightly, knowing that right now he would hurt, but once the two of you find Jack only time, and you, would heal his heart.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #unsub reader

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whosscruffylooking · 6 months ago

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The Purest Things: If I Could Be Where You Are

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: Murder. Blood. Death. Weapons. Canon typical violence. Everything that makes Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds. The Purest Things Masterlist

au! april 2009

Bookend: "Healing yourself is connected with healing others." -Yoko Ono

It’s been a month since The Reaper attacked you, a month since his escape, and a month since you were forced on leave, unable to help your team in person. The days drag on, each one slower than the last. You’ve resorted to reorganizing every drawer in your house, making every recipe in the book, and even trying to learn how to knit, but nothing seems to quiet the restlessness gnawing at you.

One thing, however, has kept you grounded—the small, thoughtful gifts left on your doorstep by a mysterious someone. Whether it’s a meal from your favorite restaurant or a candle with the comforting scent of teakwood, they appear like clockwork, each more perfect than the last. You know it’s Rossi. He has a habit of quietly looking out for people like he once did for a family whose case stayed with him for years.

You glance at the clock: 6 p.m. He’ll be here any moment. Another constant keeping you sane has been Aaron. Every evening, he arrives with the latest case files, ensuring you still feel connected to the team—even if they have no idea you’re working behind the scenes.

Knock, knock, knock…pause, knock, knock.

The secret code brings a grin to your face as you move to unlock the door. You and Hotch came up with it weeks ago—your foolproof way of ensuring it wasn’t George Foyet or anyone else unwelcome standing on the other side. He even insisted on always using the back door, just to be extra cautious.

When you swing it open, Hotch is standing there with a small, knowing smile, but tonight he isn’t alone.

“I brought reinforcements,” he announces, stepping aside to reveal Penelope and Spencer.

Your jaw drops, and you can’t stop the tears that instantly spring to your eyes. “Oh my god,” you whisper, overwhelmed.

Penelope wraps you in a tight, crushing hug while Spencer hovers behind, clearly eager but more cautious. The sharp pang of pain radiates from your still-healing injuries, but you don’t care.

“Oh my god,” you manage, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you guys so much.”

Penelope pulls back to kiss your cheek, her bright smile fading as she studies you. “We’ve missed you more, babycakes. Look at you—so gorgeous even in recovery. What is your secret?”

“Endless hours of absolutely nothing,” you quip, turning to Spencer. “Finally, no more online chess games. We can actually play in person again.”

Spencer lights up. “You’ve gotten better,” he says, his tone as matter-of-fact as always. “It was starting to feel like you were anticipating my moves. I have a theory that—”

“Okay, Einstein, let her breathe,” Penelope interrupts, shooting him a mock glare. “Besides, she’s mine tonight.”

You glance toward Hotch, standing quietly at the kitchen counter like he belongs there, his arms crossed and his expression softer than usual.

“I have to ask,” Penelope says, turning her attention to him. “Why weren’t we allowed to see her until now? You said something about security, but really?”

Hotch’s face remains composed. “We needed to ensure there were no patterns Foyet could track. Foot traffic had to be limited to supervisors and law enforcement.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at him, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “And let me guess—‘supervisor’ mostly meant you?”

Hotch doesn’t dignify her with a response, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and instead, he turns back to the kitchen counter to busy himself. His easy familiarity with your home is not lost on Spencer and Penelope, and you catch the shared glance they exchange.

"Alright,” you announce, waving your hands dramatically. “Since I have all of you here, let’s make it a real party. Hotch, you’re in charge of drinks. Garcia, you’re my sous chef. Reid—don’t argue—you’re in charge of setting the table.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Penelope says, throwing her arm around your shoulders gently. “Do you even have party supplies? What’s in your fridge?”

“Nothing worth celebrating,” you admit with a grin. “But we can improvise.”

“Oh, I am SO good at improvising a party,” Penelope declares, already dragging Spencer toward the refrigerator. “Reid, we are going to make magic happen in this fridge of doom.”

You chuckle, watching them bicker over ingredients before heading to Hotch. He’s at the counter, organizing the files he’d brought with him, the faintest hint of a smile lingering on his face.

“You’ve been found out,” you tease quietly, leaning against the counter beside him.

He glances at you, one eyebrow raising a silent question, “I don't know what you could mean."

“She’s not wrong, though,” you say softly. “You’ve been here more than anyone.”

His movements pause momentarily, his hand resting on one of the files. “You needed someone to keep you in the loop,” he says, his voice even. “I didn’t want you to feel alone in this.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Well, you’ve done more than that.”

He finally looks at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes soft. “It’s part of my job.”

You shake your head slightly. “Not like this, it isn’t.”

You let the silence overtake the moment until Penelope’s voice breaks it. “Oh my gosh, there is nothing but condiments in here! Reid, we’re ordering pizza.”

Hotch’s lips twitch, and you smile, stepping back toward the chaos in the kitchen. “Come on, Agent Hotchner,” you call over your shoulder. “Even you can’t say no to pizza.”

The evening unfolds in an almost normal way, as if you’ve stepped out of the chaos for a little while. Penelope takes over your small kitchen like it’s a gourmet setup, insisting you sit while she and Hotch bicker over the proper way to open a bottle of wine. Spencer sets the table with mismatched plates, lecturing you on the psychological benefits of symmetry, and you can’t stop laughing.

Hotch eventually joins you in the living room, handing you a glass of wine. He doesn’t say much, but the way his hand stays on yours for a second too long says everything. By the time the night winds down, the laughter has eased the weight you’ve been carrying for weeks, and for a few precious hours, you almost forget about the scar carved into your skin and the monster who put it there.

When Penelope hugs you goodbye, she whispers in your ear, “He’s been your rock, hasn’t he?”

You glance toward Hotch, Spencer already outside. “Yeah,” you say softly. “He has.”

By the time they leave, it’s late, and the house feels quiet again. You’re clearing the empty mugs from the coffee table when Hotch stops you, taking them from your hands.

“I’ll get these,” he says softly.

You hesitate, watching him move toward the kitchen with the easy familiarity of someone who belongs here. It’s comforting in a way you can’t quite put into words.

“Thank you,” you say, and it feels like you mean it for more than just the dishes.

He glances back at you, his expression unreadable but warm. “Always.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

It’s your first day back to work, and you stand in front of your mirror, straightening your jacket with a steady hand. The weight of your badge in your pocket feels reassuring now, grounding you in the moment. You take a deep breath, looking at your watch, knowing Aaron will be here any minute to pick you up.

The sound of a car pulling into your driveway makes your heart skip a beat. You head out the door, and as you reach the car, you see Aaron sitting behind the wheel, a warm smile spreading across his face. “I got you a Diet Coke,” he says, handing you a can. “I know coffee isn’t your favorite.”

You laugh, taking the can from him. “This day is already off to a great start,” you say, grateful for the small gesture, the simple comfort of his presence.

The drive to the office is quiet but comforting. The familiar roads, the faint whirr of the car, and the knowledge that you’re heading back to your team—it all feels right. As you arrive at the BAU, you and Hotch ride the elevator up in silence, but you notice something. His usual composed demeanor is slightly off. His fingers are rubbing together in that subtle way you’ve come to recognize. It’s a tell—one of the small things you’ve picked up over the past month of recovery.

“You okay, Hotch?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, concerned.

He meets your gaze momentarily, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Just a little anxious,” he admits, his voice almost softer than usual. “It’s been a while.”

The elevator dings as it reaches the BAU floor. You step out, expecting the usual buzz of activity, but what you get instead takes you completely by surprise.

“Welcome back!” A chorus of voices rings out, and you spin around, eyes wide with shock. There, in the middle of the floor, is the entire team—JJ, Reid, Penelope, Morgan, and even Rossi—all standing together with flowers, balloons, and the biggest smiles on their faces.

Your heart swells, and your breath catches in your throat as you glance back at Hotch. He’s standing there, a playful glint in his eyes, looking pleased with himself. “You knew?” you ask, half-amused, half-incredulous.

He simply shrugs, giving you a little smirk. “I plead the fifth,” he says, his voice full of warmth.

You don’t waste another second. You rush over to your team, greeting each with a hug, a laugh, and a few tears. The joy of seeing them, of being back where you belong, makes everything feel right again.

Penelope pulls you into an exaggerated hug, “We missed you so much, baby!” she says, her voice thick with affection.

Reid offers a shy smile as he hands you a carefully wrapped book. “I figured you’d need something to keep you busy since you’re back in action now,” he says, his voice a little more tentative than usual.

"Thank you! I read all of my personal library twice in the past month," you giggle.

Morgan gives you a one-armed hug, ruffling your hair. “Good to have you back,” he says with his usual easy grin.

As you pull back from them, your gaze drifts to Aaron, standing a little to the side, watching you with a look of quiet pride.

You finally turn to him, offering a soft smile. “I guess you weren’t the only one keeping secrets,” you tease, and he chuckles, looking a little embarrassed.

“This is nothing,” Hotch says, a slight twinkle in his eyes. “You should see the surprise party they’ve got planned for you at lunch.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. This is precisely where you need to be. With them. With him.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

Rossi knocks on Aaron’s door deliberately but gently. The sound breaks the stillness of the office, and Aaron looks up from his paperwork, nodding for him to come in. Rossi steps inside, settling into the chair across from him. His eyes drift toward the bullpen, where you’re working.

Aaron follows his gaze and immediately understands what this is about. It doesn’t take a profiler to know what’s coming next.

“I’m glad she’s back,” Dave says quietly, sincerity laced in his voice.

“Me too,” Aaron responds briskly, trying to deflect. “So, that report from last week’s case—”

“Does Haley… uh… have you told her about your visits to Y/N’s?” Rossi cuts in, getting straight to the point.

Aaron’s mouth opens, but no words come out. His eyes flicker to Rossi, a tightness settling in his chest.

“Ah,” Rossi murmurs, leaning back in his chair, a knowing glint in his eye. “I assume that’s because of the safety protocols after she was attacked?”

Aaron sinks into his seat, fingers absently tapping against the desk. The guilt is heavy, pressing down on him. “No,” he admits quietly. “I just haven’t brought it up to her.”

Rossi sighs, his gaze softening. “Aaron, you’re not fooling anyone. Especially not me.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just long enough to let his words settle. “You can’t keep this under wraps forever. You know that, right?”

Aaron meets his gaze, the weight of his words hitting harder than he expected. “I know,” he mutters. “It’s just… complicated.”

Rossi studies him, then nods. “I get it. But you’re walking a tightrope here. You need to figure out where you stand—before someone else does it for you.”

“Dave, there’s no tightrope,” Aaron says, his voice firm, though there’s a trace of frustration underneath. “There’s nothing to keep under wraps. I’m her supervisor. I went over to her house to gain her perspective on the case. That’s all.”

He leans back, crossing his arms, trying to convince himself as much as Rossi.

Rossi raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right,” he says slowly, his tone teasing. “And you’ve never felt any… personal connection to her? After all the time you two have spent together?”

Aaron’s jaw tightens. “I’m not blind, Dave,” he snaps, but his gaze drops to the desk, avoiding the question. “But I’m also not foolish enough to cross that line.”

Rossi watches him for a beat, then smirks. “Just remember the fraternization rules, Aaron. I think I’m the reason they exist in the first place.”

Aaron exhales, rubbing his temples. “I’m aware of the rules,” he mutters. “I’m just trying to figure out what to do about… everything.”

Rossi hesitates before speaking again, choosing his words carefully. “There’s a reason Foyet targeted her, Aaron, whether or not you want to believe it.” His tone is measured, but the implication lands like a gut punch. Aaron’s posture stiffens.

“Dave,” he warns, his voice low, edged with tension, daring him to continue.

“She’s scarred, Aaron. Forever. And it’s your initials she carries for a reason. He branded her with your name because he saw it—the connection between you two. He didn’t target one of us; he went after her because something about her led him straight to you.”

Aaron’s pulse quickens, his jaw tight. “What exactly are you implying, Dave?” His voice is steady, but his guarded expression gives him away.

“If Foyet could see your attachment to her, I can, too. And I’d wager she’s noticed it as well,” Rossi says, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe it’s time you stop running from it and admit it to yourself before she gets hurt again.”

Rossi pushes himself up from the chair, gives Aaron one last knowing look, and then leaves the office, leaving Aaron alone with his thoughts.

Aaron exhales slowly, the weight of their conversation pressing heavily against his ribs. He stands, moving to the window, his eyes finding you in the bullpen. You’re fully immersed in the files in front of you, strong and resilient, throwing yourself back into the work as if nothing ever happened.

But something did happen.

Dave’s words echo in his mind as he watches you. You’re scarred—forever marked by his initials, a cruel reminder of the consequences of his choices. Of chasing a ghost and letting it get too close to the people he cares about.

Aaron’s chest tightens, guilt coiling around his thoughts. He silently vows that nothing else will ever happen to you. Not to you. Not to anyone else he loves. Loves.

The realization lands like a blow, and he presses a hand against the window frame for support.

His gaze lingers, the truth hitting him harder than he’s willing to admit, even to himself.

“If only I could be where you are,” he murmurs under his breath.

But in another lifetime, maybe. One where he isn’t an older man, divorced, a father weighed down by years of mistakes and ghosts. One where the miles between the lives you’ve lived and the lives he’s endured didn’t feel so insurmountable.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•:•.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #hotch x y/n #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds imagine #the purest things series

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 2 years ago

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Spencer Reid x famous!reader Universe

(requests closed)

famous!reader moodboard

important notes

Spencer's age changed, so know he's born in 1989-1991 roughly

Set during 2016 (when they first meet)

No one leaves!! the team is made up of Spencer (obvi) Hotch, Rossi, Derek, Emily, Penny, and JJ

No Lila, Maeve still happens, and Spencer never goes to jail, George Foyet happens (it won't really come up, i'm just saying so when i'm not mentioning Haley)

the fic

(ordered in timeline order)

The First Meeting

The Follow Up

The Weeklong Date (pt.1)

The Weeklong Date (pt.2)

The Trip To Cornelia Street

extras

How each BAU member found out

BAU at the Rep Tour

BAU at the Eras Tour

BAU reactions to some of Y/n sadder songs

Spencer and Y/n headcannons [part one]

BAU reaction/my interpretation of TTPD

social media edits

Y/N and Spencer being spotted for the first time

Everything fans know about S/N at this time

~just comment if you want to be added to the taglist~

#spencer #reid #spencer reid x famous!reader #spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid

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gold-onthe-inside · 4 months ago

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spring-fest

🌷hello spring!🌷

in honour of exam season being over and going well into spring, i'm hosting an event over april where i'll be posting a few fics a week, and as always, my inbox will be open to requests for spencer (sfw and nsfw), aaron (sfw), and emily (sfw and nsfw).

🌷send me a bouquet🌷 there's nothing like flowers to inspire fics, so send me one or a combination with your chosen character and we'll see what takes root! send in as much detail as you like <3

sunflowers - happiness, postivity, adoration hyacinths - growth, renewal, rebirth daisies - innocence, purity lotuses - enlightenment, resilience snapdragons - strength, grace, deception peonies - ephemerality, healing, eternal love lavender - tranquility, serenity, devotion hydrangeas - gratitude, forgiveness, compassion wisteria - endurance, overcoming hardship poppies - hope amidst sorrow, loss and remembrance lillies - love, death, grief

if anyone else is inspired to write, please feel free to use these floral prompts and tag me with #rucha's spring-fest

🌷masterlist🌷

coffee for two | dad!spencer takes prof!reader out for coffee | fluff

easter bunny | spencer accidentally sends bau!reader a picture of a costume to wear | fluff

mr belvedere | spencer babysits henry, and ends up accidentally revealing blake!reader as his girlfriend | fluff

the bet | spencer makes it his personal mission to fluster piper at work | suggestive

close to the vest | the bau intends to get to know tough!reader, whether you like it or not | fluff

happy hunting | single dad!spencer reid x history prof!reader | fluff spencer spends easter sunday in the sunshine with you, while his daughter goes off egg-hunting, seeing a different side of you when you have to tell off a bunch of sixth graders.

we'll always have paris | emily prentiss (s7) x photographer!reader | angst in the aftermath of doyle, you try and scrape together the remnants of your life with emily, weeding out old flowers for something new.

shape of you | spencer reid (s8/9) x blake!reader | flangst when a terrible, horrible, no good day leaves you less that satisfied with your body t-minus 20 minutes before dinner with your boyfriend's friends and colleagues, it's up to spencer to cheer you up.

the art of the game | spencer reid (s5) x oc (piper bishop) | flangst after hotch's confrontation with george foyet leaves him in witness protection with his family, spencer re-evaluates exactly what he's willing to lose for the bau.

#rucha's spring-fest

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Slave Of Duty: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: You're pulled away for a case in the middle of Haley's funeral. Spencer is still mad at you that you didn't let him see you while in prison, but how can you explain to him that whenever you look into a mirror, you hate the person you see? You're far from being okay and Spencer is the kind of comfort you're desperately looking for.

Season Five Masterlist

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"It is love that makes the world go round." - W.S. Gilbert

"W.S. Gilbert wrote, 'It's love that makes the world go round.' If that's true, then the world spun a little faster with Haley in it. She was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles, but if there's one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son, Jack. Haley's love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn't here today.

"A mother's love is an unrivaled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Her death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and what we've become. I don't have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together. I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was, how she loved and protected him, and how much I loved her.

"If Haley were with us today, she would ask us not to mourn her death but to celebrate her life. She would tell us to love our families unconditionally and to hold them close. In the end, they are all that matter. I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school's production of 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I found our copy of the play and was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed appropriate for this moment.

"'Oh, dry the glistening tear that dews that martial cheek. Thy loving children hear in them thy comfort seek. With sympathetic care, their arms around thee creep for, oh, they cannot bear to see their father weep'."

Hotch said no tears but you can't help but cry for the loss of Haley. You didn't know her well but you feel Hotch's sorrow for his ex-wife as if it were your own. You look at Spencer who still isn't talking to you. This isn't the time or the place to fight so you two are on middle ground. However, you know as soon as you leave this place, he's going to go right back to not talking to you.

As soon as the service is over, you all head inside the place Hotch rented for the wake while Jack and Hotch stay behind to get some alone time with Haley. You're one of the last ones to leave so you look back and observe the two.

"Okay, go ahead. Blow Mommy a kiss."

You turn back and cry softly for them. Hotch isn't up for company so he lets everyone else converse while he stays on the balcony and thinks about how his life is going to go. Jack stayed with Haley but now that George Foyet is dead, there is no reason Jack can't stay with Hotch. It's going to be hard to take care of a small child and still do what he does, but Haley's sister is more than happy to help until Hotch figures out something more permanent.

Rossi leaves the group to join Hotch on the balcony.

"What do we do?" Emily asks, breaking the silence.

"There's nothing we can do. We just gotta wait him out."

"Do you think he'll ever come back?"

"Would you?" JJ asks.

"He'll come back. I just don't know what he's gonna look like when he does. We just need to be there for him when he's ready."

Rossi spends ten more minutes with Hotch before coming back inside, and you take this opportunity to talk to Hotch alone. You set your drink on the table and head out to the balcony.

"Hey," you say softly.

"Hey." You join his side and he looks at you with unshed tears in his eyes. "I know it'll get better but I worry for Jack."

"He has you. He's going to be okay." Hotch shrugs and leans on the railing. "Have I ever told you about my sister? She wasn't my biological sister but when my parents fostered her, she was my best friend. We did everything together and I told her everything. She was a few years older than me but I looked up to her.

"She started coming home from work and was really uncomfortable. She wouldn't tell me why but I could feel it. To put a long story short, she was murdered by her boss. He wanted her and when she rejected him, he killed her. Gideon was the agent on the case.

"I know this isn't what you're going through, but I can talk about it without it hurting. This is never going to go away for you or Jack but it will get easier. Then one day, it won't hurt to breathe."

"I know," he nods. "I appreciate you helping me. I'm sorry about your sister."

"I'm sorry about Haley."

Hotch gives you a comforting hug that he needs without it being inappropriate. The door opens and Derek comes out just as you pull away from Hotch.

"I'm sorry, but we just got called in. We have to go."

"Are you serious?"

"It's okay. You should go. Call me if you need anything."

"Take care of your son."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to be okay?" you ask Hotch.

"I'll see you when you get back."

Derek is the unit chief now. If he says to go on a case, then you have to. Everyone heads to the plane since there is no time to brief before then. Penelope is logged in through video chat.

"In two weeks, there have been two women killed in their own homes with no sign of forced entry, and the floors were covered in rose petals," JJ starts the briefing.

"He's quite the romantic. Evidence of sexual assault?"

"None. Both women were last seen leaving their offices on a Friday and never showed up to work on a Monday."

"It's Thursday. Why are we only being called in now?"

"The second body was only found yesterday."

"There may be a socio-economic pattern emerging. The first victim, Bethany Heminger, lived in Belle Meade. The second victim, Melissa Johnson, lived in Brentwood. Both are affluent neighborhoods yet nothing was missing from either home."

"What did these women do for a living?"

"Bethany was a defense attorney and Melissa was a corporate executive."

"Two brunettes with similar features in high-powered professions? That's not a coincidence. These women most likely represent someone he knows."

"Alright, so we need to figure out where this unsub is meeting his victims and how he's gaining access to their homes. If he's staying on pattern, this guy has picked out his next target. We should check gardeners, housekeeping staff, pool attendants, and floral shops. See if anyone worked both homes. Start working up a paper trail, Garcia. Find out where these women were In the days leading up to each murder."

"Like a genie in a bottle--poof!" Penelope says and logs off the computer.

"Prentiss, you and I are gonna go check out the Johnson crime scene. Reid, you and Y/N talk to the coroner so you can start working up victimology. JJ and Rossi, talk to the families and staff and find a connection we can use. I understand that all of our thoughts are with Hotch, but right now, I need us all to focus on this case. We have less than a day before this unsub will strike again. Let's finish this thing fast."

JJ and Rossi meet with Detective Landon Kaminski who has the major on his ass about this. Two dead girls and they know a third is coming fast. JJ is preparing for a statement with the press. Every woman in Nashville needs to know there is a serial killer on the loose. It's at the point where the public needs to know to be aware. JJ wants them to take preventive measures to avoid becoming the next victim.

While Landon thinks JJ should be specific as in certain hair colors, skin tones, eye colors, etc., JJ is adamant that every woman is aware of this. His first two victims might have been from the same social class but if the police department isolates victimology this soon, it may cause the unsub to go outside of his own comfort zone. It'll be even harder to track him then.

It's better to stress hypervigilance and shut his victim pool down while they still have a chance.

Melissa's house has a security system but her friends say she only used it when she traveled out of town. The only other kind of security she had was her dog, which he killed and stashed in the garage.

That was her first mistake. She had all the precautions to avoid home invasion but she didn't use them properly. Just like with the first crime scene, the unsub's fingerprints are everywhere in the house. It's like he didn't care if he left them behind or not, which usually means he's disorganized. However, the crime scene shows that he's organized in the way he puts the rose petals down and kills the dog.

There is no way these two women let him in willingly. He had to have waited for a while before working his way in forcibly. He left all these prints in the house because he knew that he wouldn't get caught, which meant his prints weren't in the system. If he isn't in the system, that means he has no priors, is very smart, and is likely educated. This guy knew exactly what he was doing and made sure he had enough time to do it.

He knew when she'd leave the house, when she returned, when she went to the grocery store, if she had friends and family over, and when she went to bed. He's stalking these women. If he didn't force himself into the house, then how did he get in?

The thing that confuses you is why the unsub cooked, cleaned, and left the petal trail. It has to mean something to the unsub because he's not just reliving a fantasy, he's repeating it. It's not only the same routine and the same meal he cooks, it's proper etiquette. In the second crime scene, there is a handprint on the back of one of the dining chairs which means he pulled the chair out for Melissa. He poured her wine, cooked for her, drew her a bath, and then she was dead.

What changed?

Sure Melissa was scared in the beginning but she had changes to escape. She figured if she wasn't in immediate danger, she could keep a calm head and figure a way out of this. However, as soon as he took her upstairs and into the bath, that's where she was most vulnerable. Fear takes over and she fights back, thus ending the fantasy.

Home is where people are supposed to feel safe. Nobody deserves to have that taken away.

You're hoping to see into the situation more by seeing the victims at the ME's office, so that's where you and Spencer head to as soon as you get off the plane. The medical examiner knows you're coming so she has both bodies on tables for you to examine. Even the dead have energies that you can feel, and you can feel how scared they were in their final moments no matter how long they've been dead.

You put gloves on and touch Melissa's hair to smooth it back even though there are no flyaways. The unsub did his best to take care of them, to uphold the fantasy of love. She tried to play along even though she was scared but when he took her upstairs, she fought back. That broke the fantasy and she killed her.

"The second she fought back, he killed her. Had she continued to play along, she might have lived long enough to escape," you say to Spencer.

"There are defensive wounds on both women. More so on the latest victim. She fought back the hardest." Spencer examines both bodies. "There are no ligature marks so they weren't bound. How does he keep them from running out?"

"He assaulted them initially to instill fear before playing into the fantasy," you answer your boyfriend.

"There's something else you should see," the medical examiner says. She grabs two papers and hands them over. "Both their stomach contents were the same. Chicken, broccoli, pasta, salad, and red wine."

"I told you. He's playing out a fantasy, one he has to control. When they fight back, it breaks it and he kills them."

There isn't much more you can grab from this place so Spencer hands the papers back to the ME and starts to leave the office. You take off your gloves and turn to Spencer but he is already walking out the door.

"Spencer," you call after him but he doesn't answer.

Okay, now you're getting annoyed. He doesn't say anything on the drive over to the police station or when he enters the building. The building has two entrances, one that leads to the outside and one that leads into the back offices. Spencer opens the door to enter the lobby but doesn't hold it open for you like he normally does.

"Spencer!" you say forcibly causing him to swiftly turn to face you.

"I just don't understand why you would keep me, of all people, away from you when you were in prison."

Okay, you're doing this now, apparently. Tears come to your eyes but you don't let them fall.

"I didn't want you to see me that way."

"Do better," he scoffs and walks further into the building.

You're left alone in the lobby with only your thoughts to keep you company. Knowing Spencer hates the situation you put him in brings you closer to the brink of a panic attack. You had them all the time in prison but you thought they'd stop once you got out. Your breathing picks up slightly and your heart beats faster.

Rossi sees you and decides to check on you. He walks into the lobby and touches your shoulder which grounds you. You take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart before looking at him.

"Are you okay?"

"He hates me," you sigh.

"He doesn't hate you."

"Then he's still mad at me. I guess it beats him looking at me and seeing those bruises... seeing my pain."

"Give him time. He'll come around."

"I hope," you sigh.

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