#hotch is body insecure
Text
𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky.
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely.
Total quiet.
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?”
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?”
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?”
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…”
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?”
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.”
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.”
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh.
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated.
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry.
“Spencer?” you ask quietly.
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?”
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?”
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups.
“Where are you?”
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him.
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.”
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?”
“Where was I?”
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed.
“Still where?”
“Did you hit your head?”
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.”
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk.
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.”
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.”
“…What?”
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.”
“I annoy people.”
“You don’t annoy me.”
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here.
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?”
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection.
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?”
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly.
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?”
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.”
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says.
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room.
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark.
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly.
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!”
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer.
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask.
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again.
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.”
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath.
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers.
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year.
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.”
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.”
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.”
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!”
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity.
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek.
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.”
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly.
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says.
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway.
“I don’t want to be alone forever.”
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates?
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess.
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol.
“She kind of looked like you.”
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.”
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.”
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says.
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Is that why you make all your jokes?”
“What jokes, babe?”
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.”
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?”
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.”
“Spencer, you remember everything.”
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.”
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him.
You’re happy to.
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled.
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse.
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully.
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally.
“Can I come home with you?” he asks.
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.”
— —
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.”
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.”
“So you want three?”
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.”
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time.
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?”
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him.
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory.
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that.
The avocado is making him feel sick.
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?”
“I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes.
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button.
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.”
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.”
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.”
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now.
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said.
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say.
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again.
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.”
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do.
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask.
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey i love your work so much!! i was wondering if you could do something where hotch gets lingerie for the reader. and the reader is like mmm no maybe not.. but hotch is like please just try it on to see if you like it?
reader is like ok, so they put it on and they are stilly kinda hesitant but when hotch sees them he is like star struck and… ya know shows them how pretty they are!! and he just praises the reader, maybe they do it in front of a mirror 🫣🫣
i think it would be cute, but you don’t have to write it if you don’t want, sorry if this is all over the place it was just a stream of consciousness!!
༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader
— summary: to aaron, buying you lingerie was an act of love, to you, it was something new.
— warnings: lingerie wearing (obviously), slight body insecurity, illusions to mirrors being used for future... unsavory acts, kissing, heavy petting, praise, heavy kissing.
— wc: 745
⋆ a/n: hello hun!! i'm so glad you like my work and sorry that this isn't as detailed as you probably would have liked. funny enough i couldn't find space to fit actual smut in there, but never fear! it is still as equally spicy and fun!
masterlist | AO3
“What the fuck is that?”
Aaron held up a piece of lingerie that looked more like pieces of string and lace were sewn together than any actual cloth.
“Lingerie, honey.” He said with a deep chuckle. “And you want me to wear… that?” You questioned in disbelief. “That would be ideal, yes.”
There was a wince on your face as you continued to stare at the dark red thing. “Yeah… no. Absolutely not.” You crossed your arms. “Sweetheart, you don't even know if you won't like it.”
“No, I know I don't like it. How about you just see me naked?”
“As tempting as that sounds, I would like it very much if you were to try it on.”
Your eyes flickered from his to the bundle of lace.
Now, it wouldn't be fair to say no, because Aaron has indulged in many of your fantasies over the years, and he barely asks for anything, as well as always focuses on your pleasure. If you said no he'd drop the conversation entirely, he was never one to pressure.
You could see it in the burning of his irises that he wanted to see you in the lingerie, and he would never steer you wrong and pick something ugly. Oh God, just thinking about him going into a place like Victoria's Secret made your cheeks heat up.
With one final glance you sighed, sticking out your hand. “Fine, but I'm doing this just because I love you and… because I want to.”
He walked up and handed you it, pulling you into his side to give you a kiss on your head. “Thank you.” You just hummed before disappearing into the bathroom.
Oh you looked like a fucking clown.
You knew this would be no good. This was not flattering at all, at least in your eyes. You cringed, tugging at the straps that dug into your arms uncomfortably. You had never felt so… unsure sexually before.
“Aaron, I look ridiculous.”
“I'm sure you look great.”
“Did this thing not come with a robe?” You couldn't help but ask, because the outfit felt like it was missing something.
“It did.”
“And where might it be?”
“With me.”
“You're such a bastard.” You mumbled to yourself.
You took a deep breath to ease your nerves.
“Alright, I'm coming out, but if you laugh at me, I'm going to kill you.”
“In what world would I laugh at you?” He was right, you were being nervous and irrational and — God, you've never done this before. Was it hot in here? Were you sweating?
Stepping out of the bathroom was one thing, but Aaron staring at you speechless was a whole other can of worms.
You shifted anxiously in your spot as he approached you, his large hand cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb rubbed the hot skin of it softly.
“You look breathtaking.” His voice was strained. The other hand that wasn't cradling your face landed on your naked hip. He squeezed the fat of it, a light shiver shooting up his back at the feeling of the fat spilling through his fingers.
Your body thrums with excitement, your last hesitation slowly melting off of you.
“You think so?” You ask shyly. “I know so.” Aaron confirms with that warm, comforting voice of his. He connects your lips together and a light, surprised gasp exits your mouth. Your hands shoot-out to hold his strong biceps.
His lips molded themselves firmly onto yours, tongue exploring your mouth with desperate fervor. It was like he was trying to consume you, and a new type of fire burned in his veins. It was a rabid kind of need that threatened every part of him that was a gentleman.
You pushed away from him to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes fall on the mirror hanging on the well next to where you guys are standing and you groan.
“Ugh, Aaron…” You whine in embarrassment, burying your head into his hard chest. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.” You groan in embarrassment. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?”
“Because I mean it. I love all of you.”
“You really know how to sweet talk a girl, don’t you, Hotchner?”
“As much as I like sweet talking you, I like having you in my bed more.” He locked your lips again, nosy hands massaging and gripping at the chub exposed by the two-piece.
ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
#✰ ― meau's inbox !#♡ ― nsfmeau !#aaron x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x plus size reader#plus size reader#x plus size reader#plus size!reader#x chubby reader#chubby reader#fanfiction#smut#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron cm#aaron hotchner cm#aaron criminal minds#aaron hotchner criminal minds#cm#criminal minds#cm fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction
614 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! is it possible for you to write a bestfriend! spencer x reader with mutual pining and a little jealously sprinkled in?
only if you want to! :)
based on this pairing of spencer and reader
Spencer is scowling in your direction. His glasses are high up on the bridge of his nose as he frowns at your back.
You’re all out for drinks after a long couple of days. That’s not what bothers Spencer. The bartender that keeps talking to you and making you smile is. He watches you smile and nod along but he can’t really see your entire face clearly.
It irks him how easily the man seems to speak to you, no sign of shy admiration at all. None of his insecure stuttering or the timid extension of his hands.
It’s hard not to think that you’d want someone much braver or more open in their affection than he is. You’re open and brave in your own affections to him.
It’s logical to think it too.
“Reid, you okay?” Morgan asks him over his beer, watching Spencer’s frown worsen as the bartender’s hand drops atop yours.
“Fine.” Spencer sips his water, turning back to you without a second thought.
“You know, she wouldn’t be over there if you’d man up and tell her.” Spencer is grateful that Derek is whispering, he doesn’t know how he’d react if the rest of the team saw his obvious distress.
Derek isn’t above teasing him and he knows that, but Spencer knows the eyes of JJ, Emily, Hotch and Rossi will have his palms a bit sweatier.
“I just don’t want to rush things. What if she changes her mind?” Derek wants to laugh. For as smart as Spencer is, he’s still self conscious. He doesn’t though and instead he pats Spencer’s shoulder.
“Pretty Ricky, you’re worried that the girl who brings you the good coffee every morning with homemade honey almond cake is going to change her mind?” Derek needs him to see just how infatuated you both are with each other. “We taking about the same girl who recorded bedtime stories for you to listen to when you couldn’t sleep for months?”
Spencer blushes, deep crimson as he remembers falling asleep to the recordings on the plane when you were ill that one week. The team hadn’t known about it till Derek came to wake him up and heard your voice reciting, ‘The Little Prince’ in Spencer’s headset.
“C’mon man, you’re a good profiler, you both are and you know she’s not going to change her mind,” Derek drains his beer. “Plus, she’s been scratching her thigh for the last five minutes, she’s ready to get out of that conversation.”
Spencer stands suddenly, the table turns to him and Emily smiles. “Finally going to save our girl?”
He doesn’t say anything, preparing what he’s going to say in his head as he approaches you.
His hand falls between your shoulder blades, “You doing okay?” he whispers, eyes on the bartender who frowns at his presence.
“Spence,” your voice is a whisper. Your body turns to face him completely, the bartender a long gone thought. “I thought I would’ve had to call you to get you over here.” Spencer frowns now.
“You what?” he pays your tab and starts leading you over to the table when you stop.
“I was scratching my thigh for like twenty minutes,” you’re exaggerating, “Thought you knew I only had eyes for you? You left me to the wolves on purpose?” you ask with a pout, red lips still glossy in a way that confuses Spencer, especially since you’ve had four drinks already.
Spencer stutters to answer, “No! You were smiling and you were… I thought-” Spencer stops speaking when you grin at him. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” he shakes his head when you giggle.
“I was smiling because I was being polite, but I was really trying to get an out of the conversation.” Your hands link with Spencer’s.
“I really wanted you to come get me, Spence. He was boring, hardly knew any obscure facts like you do.” You kiss his cheek, stamping your lipstick to his porcelain skin with a smug smile.
Spencer feels the room heat a couple degrees as you pull away and your smile is even brighter. “You know what?” you ask him and he shakes his head- the words are currently hard to form.
“I think next time we go out, I’m gonna wear a shirt with a picture of your face on it with a bunch of heart eyes all over it. Maybe then people will get the message.”
Emily smiles when she notices Spencer shaking his head with a smile on his face. They’re all waiting for you to ask him out.
“You don’t have any pictures of me.” Spencer reminds you and you pout sadly.
“Can I take one of you right now? I like this cute little nerd-next-door thing you have going on. The lipstick kiss really completes the look.”
Spencer grumbles, but agrees to you taking the picture. It yields amazing results because it ends with him getting a couple more kisses to his cheek- red lipstick all over his face.
Emily’s sure by next week Spencer will finally get that first date.
#spencerreid#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x black!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x yn#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Pleasant Surprise
masterlist
Summary: Hotch starts noticing things about you; You've been eating more, gaining a little weight, craving more attention, and sleeping more. He just assumes it's nothing to worry about until he realizes the real reason why you've been changing.
Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Contains: fluff, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, established relationship, mentions of body insecurity, no use of y/n, hotch's pov
A/N: Hotch's toothy smile gets me every mf time!
There was something off about you. Hotch had known it for weeks but couldn't put his finger on it. You seemed to be eating more than you typically would; in fact, you gained weight at your last doctor's appointment. Hotch would remember cause you came back from the doctor's office pouting and asking him if you "looked fat." Hotch immediately ran to your side to comfort you, telling you how beautiful you are. Five pounds heavier or not, you will always be beautiful to him. After that, Hotch made sure to keep a closer eye on you. He noticed you changing more and more every day.
Typically, you'd only get around seven hours of sleep if you were lucky, but now you sleep around nine hours a day. You were also more mushy than normal. You never really liked physical touch, and Hotch understood why, as he, too, was not a big fan of touch either, but lately, you have been craving his touch. During the day, you would sit close to him at the round table and on the plane, reach for his hand whenever it was empty, and play with his fingers. At night, you would crawl into bed as soon as possible and rush to his side to cuddle. Hotch loved this new side of you. He loved the attention and love you gave him every day, but he couldn't help but wonder why.
One day after work, it finally hit him.
You both had finally gotten home from work. Jack was already asleep in his room, and it was almost time for you and Hotch to sleep. After exiting Jack's room, Hotch could see you in the kitchen. The lights were dim, but he saw you grabbing a tub of ice cream from the freezer. You grabbed a bowl and scooped three decent-sized scoops of vanilla ice cream before putting the tub in the freezer. You then grabbed some cookies from the pantry, breaking pieces off into your bowl of ice cream. Hotch continued to watch you from afar, analyzing your every move, trying to pinpoint the cause of this new behavior. He came up blank.
You moved the ice cream into your room, sat on the bed under the covers, and began to feast on your late-night treat. Hotch followed you in curiosity before asking, "Ice cream and cookies? I'm surprised you have the energy." You shrugged in response, ignoring Hotch's comment. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, he thought to himself as he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Mid brush, he could hear the sound of the TV on. The noise made him drift off into thought. He listed out everything that has changed in you and began compiling a list of possible causes. Stress? Nope, it can't be that since your lives are always stressful, and they haven't been more or less stressful in the past few weeks. Could it be your depression? Hotch doubted it. You have been taking your medication regularly, never missing a dose, and you wouldn't crave attention in a depressive state. Maybe it's biological, not mental. Were you sick? You weren't coughing, wheezing, or sneezing. Then it slowly started to hit him.
Hotch spits out the toothpaste when he begins to get flashbacks to when Haley was pregnant with Jack. He remembers the morning sickness, the increase in appetite, the need for him to be around 24/7, and the pain. He wiped his mouth on a towel nearby, not really much attention to what he was doing. Could you be? Nope. You were taking birth control, and you guys haven't really been sexually active lately. The last time you had sex was before all this change.
Hotch looked over at you from inside the bathroom. You were in the same position as before, eating your ice cream while watching what appeared to be some crime show. Funny how you go from working on crime cases to watching crime cases unfold on the big screen. He returned to his nighttime routine, moving into the bedroom to grab pajamas. He could tell that you were watching his every move out of the corner of his eye. He chucked to himself before going back into the bathroom to change. While changing, his mind returned back to your predicament. He couldn't help but return to the pregnancy theory as he secretly hoped it was true. You weren't in any type of pain, though, and no morning sickness. That is when he remembered overhearing you talk about your mom's love for being pregnant.
"I swear if my mom didn't have her tubes tied, she would love nothing more than to be pregnant again. All she did was walk around naked eating chocolate," you said while sitting at your desk.
Derek and Emily looked a bit terrified, but Spencer didn't. In fact, Spencer went on a rant about how DNA can affect a pregnancy and how everyone can have an array of symptoms. "It's quite common for people to experience pregnancy differently. In fact, research has shown that genetics can factor into nausea experienced during pregnancy. So, based on that, you'll probably have a smooth pregnancy like your mom," Spencer informed the group.
"Ok, pretty boy, you need to stop reading those pregnancy books JJ has," Derek says as the group returns to their respective work.
Oh my God. You were pregnant. That had to be why you acted differently these last few weeks. Hotch quickly finished getting dressed before running into the bedroom. "You're pregnant," he says quite loudly before jumping on the bed and putting your ice cream on the nightstand beside you so he can hug you.
"I'm what now?" You asked, looking at Hotch confused.
Hotch released you from his embrace, placing his hands on your face. "You, my love, are pregnant. We're pregnant," he spoke softly, only to return to hugging you tightly. You sat in silence, too stunned to speak. You tried to wrap your head around the idea of a baby growing inside of you, but you just couldn't understand why Hotch thought you were pregnant. "I'm pregnant?" you asked Hotch as if trying to convince yourself of it. Hotch pulled away from your body to look down at you. He could see the worry and confusion on your face, and he began to wonder, "Do you not want a baby?"
You looked away for a moment to think about it. It's not that you never wanted a baby, but you just couldn't imagine having one. You guys already have Jack, which was enough for you, but the more you thought about it, the more you smiled at the idea. Hotch is already an amazing father, and you weren't the worst with Jack. The two of you could definitely make a second child work, and the team would be thrilled at the idea of yet another little member of the BAU.
You looked back at Hotch, staring into each other's eyes. You moved in and gave him a little kiss on the lips before whispering, "We're gonna have a baby."
#hotch x y/n#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#pregnant reader#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you
932 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay With Me Till Morning
hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary:
Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?
warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)
wc: 3.2k
if i missed anything let me know!
One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.
Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.
Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.
The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.
You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.
Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.
It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.
Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.
In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”
This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.
So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.
~
“There’s only one fucking bed?”
You’d spoke far too soon.
After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.
When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”
Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.
“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”
You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”
He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.
“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”
Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”
His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.
“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“
You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.
“We’ll share then.”
~
Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.
Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.
It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.
“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”
“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“
You cut him off before he could finish.
“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”
“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”
You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.
Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.
After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.
As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.
“Y/n?”
You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.
“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”
“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”
With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.
~
When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.
You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.
Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.
Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.
It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.
“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.
“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”
You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“
The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.
“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”
He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.
“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”
“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“
You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”
“You heard me right? I said your name?”
The world stops spinning, “What?”
“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”
“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”
It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.
“Were you dreaming about me?”
He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.
The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.
The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.
Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”
With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.
You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.
You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”
His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.
“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”
You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.
“You’re so, so beautiful.”
His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.
“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”
You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.
You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.
“Spencer, please.”
Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.
Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.
You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.
His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.
You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.
“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”
You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.
“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“
“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”
The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.
“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”
“Fuck, Y/n.”
He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”
The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”
He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.
He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.
His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”
You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”
His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.
“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”
His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.
“I love you.”
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.
“I love you too. God, I love you.”
~
The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.
When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.
Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”
While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.
End
let me know what you think!!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#there was only one bed#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#fic rec#fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#a bit cliche but here we are#criminal minds smut#spencer reid is a munch
664 notes
·
View notes
Note
reader being like "sorry I talked too much" and hotch being "nonono keep talking" because he loves to see your eyes glow up when you talk passionlately. this is literally for me im SO insecure about how much I talk like what am doing rn someone stop me 😩
Ugh I love you (and the rambles are about supernatural, watch it or I will cry)
—
“So then, after Michael possesses Adams body, they fall into the pit together, and-“ you pause, watching as Aaron’s eyebrows pinch together, you presume from exhaustion, “sorry, I’m rambling, you’re probably tired, I’ll stop,”
You lean over and kiss him on the forehead, smiling at how his eyes slip closed at the contact. The both of you are tucked into bed, finally both at home after a week long case. You’d spent an hour trying to get Jack to calm down when you’d picked him up from Jessica’s, and another two reading him to sleep.
When you’d finally collapsed into bed, you switched on Supernatural, something you do most nights to decompress. Usually, you watch it in relative silence, but today you just couldn’t stop the verbal diarrhea from spilling out. You can’t help but feel bad for your poor boyfriend having to listen to your spiel about the show he seems utterly indifferent to.
“No no,” his gentle voice shakes you from your thoughts. His hand covers yours, which you hadn’t even noticed had moved to cover your mouth, “keep talking, it’s relaxing,”
“Even when I shout about the characters?” You smile, intertwining your fingers together and bringing them to rest on your lap. He nods quietly, the sound of his hair rustling against the pillow being the only sound in the room now you’ve paused the tv.
“Keep talking,” he encourages again, pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder. As you carry on with your ramblings, you pull him closer to you, cradling his head in your lap and stroking his hair and you rave on about your theories for the show, only stopping when his gentle snores disrupt the peace of the room.
#•megs ask box•#•megs pretty daydreams•#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x fem!reader#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
masterlist!
last updated: 03/08/23
request guidelines: here
Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
fluff
sleepy
spencer reids doe eyes
lipstick kisses
after sex cuddles
housebusband!spence
touch averse reader kisses spence
looking at spence when he reads
alt!reader in a band
holding hands
bathing together
rich!reader fluff
kisses with spence
artsy gf!reader meets the team
listening to autistic!spence rambling
autistic!reader realises autistic!spencer is attracted to her
jealous spencer
reader telling spencer they love him for the first time
introducing spencer too beabadoobee
angst & angsty fluff
spence getting his hair cut after prison
traumatic event (reader kidnapped)
reader finds out about spencers addiction
reader breaks up with spencer over his relationship with jj
TW spencer seeing readers scars
TW reader seeing spencer’s scars
smut
edging spence with a vibe*
thigh kissing drabble*
round 1*
youre more than just a fling, my love*
i love your body baby (insecure spence)*
im bored, wanna play?*
we could.. do it*
sub!spence x rockstar!reader*
stop the teasing please..*
pegging spence for the first time*
i love it when you’re naughty like this*
i love your body baby (insecure reader)*
rich!reader buys spence an expensive gift*
making out with spence in his car
sub!spence giving oral*
overstimulating spence*
spence with a praise kink*
spence with a praise kink getting pegged*
dumbification with spence*
spencer watching you stretch*
sub!spence and tall!reader*
firearms qualification*
pegging needy spence*
drunk spence humping readers leg*
cant keep my hands to myself
whoever gets horny first loses
overstimulating sub!spence*
teasing sub!spence through his boxers*
sub!spence rutting against you but not going in*
sub!spence giving you a facial*
sub!spence in panties and a skirt*
drunk needy spence
spence’s sensitive nipples
spanking bratty spence
sub!spence & sub!reader
playing with spence while he’s having a wet dream
spencer pleasuring you
aftercare with sub!spence
sub!spence w premature ejac
tying spence up during a punishment
perfect princess
virgin!autistic!spence x virgin!autistic!reader
pretty princess spence
spence & reader sexual tension
aftercare hc’s for sub!spence
more skirt spence
trans!spence strap warming you
trans!spence squirting
cockwarming princess spence
sub!spence hc’s
princess sub!spence hc’s
trans!reid hc’s
slapping spence’s ass in a skirt
glasses reid
pt2 spanking spencer in a skirt
spencer finding out he has a mommy kink
TW body worship with self harming reader
eating trans!spence out on his period
getting eaten out on your period
Aaron Hotchner
pegging sub!hotch
Emily Prentiss
be patient.*
scared of storms
emily in lingerie
Elle Greenaway
elle with sub!fem!reader
Moreid & Moried x Reader
moreid phone sex
spence blowing morgan while u watch
B99
Amy Santiago
amy santiago x emily prentiss au
dancing with ames
#masterlist#spencer reid x reader#sub!spence#sub spencer reid#sub!spencer#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#dom!emily prentiss#dom emily prentiss#amy santiago#amy santiago x reader#amy santiago x emily prentiss
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
OUT OF IT • A. HOTCHNER X READER
sad aaron; angst; fluff (only in his memories, the italicized sections); mentions of marriage; nonspecific case details; pet names; kissing; low self-worth implied on his end; insecurities; no happy ending; ~1.5k
please listen to and / or read the lyrics to merry bad ending by the boyz and someone new by hozier. imagine hozier sadder, please.
Aaron is distracted.
He knows as much, and he feels sorry to his team every time it happens. He can’t help it, though. Whenever there’s a lull in the action, the ease of tension in a high-stakes case, his mind wanders.
Memories of soft skin and nicely scented hair, scratchy clothes falling to the ground. Of more innocent moments too, dates on beaches late at night — like you’re college kids again, feet sinking in wet sand and laughing under the moonlight between stolen kisses and whispered words.
‘Aaron,’ your whispered voice mumbles, and he feels you trace your fingers over his jawline. ‘Pay attention, gorgeous,’
“Hotch!” He snaps out of it to Morgan’s voice. “Man, what’s going on with you?”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well.” That’s the lie he tells most often now. When he’s asleep, he’s the calmest and happiest he’s been in months. “What’s happening?”
“We’re ready for the profile. Gonna sit this one out?”
Aaron sighs. “Maybe. I don’t think I’ll be much help to the team.”
Derek studies him, jaw tensing for a few moments as he thinks. “Come back when you’re ready, Hotch. Team needs you.”
He nods.
He finds himself sitting in a room with the case files, reading aimlessly over the same sentences as his mind wanders again.
‘Aaron!’ Your voice squeals, light and happy. Your giggles break up your words, and he grins against the skin of your neck where he peppers wet kisses. ‘It tickles!’
‘Shh,’ he coos, tracing his fingers up and down your side. You squirm under the feather-light touch, body shaking with laughs even as they become silent. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
You lean back and sit up slightly as he trails his fingers over your spine. ‘If you don’t kiss me, right now, I’m going to scream.’
Aaron chuckles and leans up to kiss you, sweet and gentle, lips slightly chapped as they meld to yours.
‘Baby, baby,’ you pull back after a few minutes, having only pulled back enough to breathe. ‘It’s late. You have work.’
‘Mm, wanna keep kissing you,’ he shakes his head, nose rubbing against yours. ‘Sweeter than anything that happens at work,’
‘Well, you do work for the FBI,’ you laugh, kissing his nose and smiling as his whole face scrunches up at the sensation. ‘C’mon. Bed with you.’
‘You’re not coming?’
‘‘Course I am, but I need to get ready separate from you. You can’t keep your hands to yourself.’
‘I’m not handsy.’ Aaron sulks.
‘Yeah, you are,’ you laugh and fully climb off, ignoring the forlorn look he gives you. ‘Go on, go brush your teeth. I’ll be in in a bit.’
The weight of missing you crushes him. The only moments he can breathe are the moments when he pictures the softness of your skin and your lips, the sweetness of your smile and the sound of his name on your tongue, the moments he pictures you next to him.
It’s agonizing, to have his heart stutter — not from you surprising and flustering him, but from the pain of realizing you’re gone —, to have his breathing hitch out from sobs as he realizes how much he ruined it all.
He blinks back the sting of tears and focuses on the case file.
There were women missing. Not missing like you, in the way that he made too many mistakes and you chose happiness, but missing in a way that their lives hung in the balance.
He had to find them. He couldn’t let more people down.
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When the case ends — with no more bodies, and Aaron can’t even recreate the sigh of relief he let out when they caught him and freed the hostages —, his home is too empty.
Silent.
There’s no chatter of the shows you like to watch, too quiet for him to make out words — you hated to disturb him, and would always have it so low you could barely hear it —, no smell of the dinner you’d cooked hours before, no you waiting on the couch to throw yourself into his arms with a grin.
‘Baby!’ Your voice is practically a squeal, excited and almost overly giddy. ‘You’re back,’
His arms catch and wrap around your waist before he can even consciously realize you’re against him. ‘Hi, gorgeous,’ he whispers, feathering a kiss to your hairline. ‘Wanna tell me what’s got you so excited?’
‘Well…’ you begin, pulling him to the couch with you.
He hangs onto every word, he knows he did, but his memory of this moment hones in on something else as your sweet voice washes over him in his waves.
Your clothing, the way it rests on your curves, the dottings of scars from where you struggled with acne as a teen — scars you’d hidden when you first started dating, ashamed to show him your face without makeup, scars he adored and kissed, markings he’d called angel kisses whenever they upset you —, the tired curve of your shoulders that he knows now is from more than just work.
It’s from him.
He exhausted you, tapped into your sunshine and joy so much you had none left for yourself. More than anything, he regrets not being able to make you happy. You’d given and given and given until you had nothing left for either of you, and all Aaron knew how to do was take.
There’s a tremble — a quiver, even — to his face muscles. He realizes, belatedly, he’s sobbing in his doorway, and he locks the door as he stumbles to his bedroom.
He closes his eyes, letting the tears roll down his face, warm, salty, awful.
He knows he should be over it.
But he’s not. He wishes he was, for both of your sakes, but he can’t stop crying. Missing you.
Everything aches.
“God, __, what did I do?”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
He wishes it were different. That he was.
Aaron makes it through two more cases before another breakdown.
The case was in Las Vegas, and everyone went out to drink or gamble (with the exception of Reid, who was banned from casinos and wanted to visit his mom, anyways). And Aaron was sitting alone in his hotel room, blanket wrapped around his body, knees drawn to his chest.
It hurts. To think of you. But he can’t stop.
Aaron thought he was going to marry you.
He had that thought often, whenever the fondness overtook him — his heart would swell with love, and he would look at you, practically with cartoon hearts in his eyes, certain he would have a forever with you.
Today was one of those days.
You’re dressed in his boxers and an old sweater of his, the definition of domestic beauty, hair a mess, eyes and face puffy from sleep, squinting at him over the edge of your coffee cup.
‘You look too pretty for seven a.m.,’
‘Morning to you too, my love,’ he whispers, pulling you into a kiss briefly. ‘Want breakfast?’
‘Are you cooking?’
‘As long as you supervise,’ it’s teasing, but there’s a hint of truth to it (you don’t trust him alone in the kitchen you made all nice and picked the appliances for, unless he’s using the microwave or getting a snack). ‘Sound good?’
‘Sounds perfect.’
He makes eggs and pancakes, and rolls his eyes as he fights down a smile when you wolf-whistle at him for rolling up his shirt sleeves to keep them out of the batter’s way.
When he serves it, he refills your coffee.
You kiss him as he places it down, and he’s glad his hand was already to the table because he would’ve dropped it in his urgency to cup your cheek.
His face is burning.
‘What was that for?’
‘I can’t kiss my husband?’
His face burns hotter. ‘Husband?’
‘Well, one day? Or no?’ You pout at that and he coughs, choking on air.
‘Yeah,’ his voice is a little strained, but he’s grinning. ‘That’s the plan.’
That plan never came around.
The ring still sits in his dresser drawer, beautiful, the velvet box collecting dust.
His call goes to voicemail — one he helped you come up with — “Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now! I’m too busy being in love with everyone and everything. Catch you when I can.”
It was always too whimsical for him, but it was you, and that made it right. You were full of whimsy before his work took its toll on you both.
You fell in love with everyone and everything.
But you fell out of it with him.
who cheered for my first full sad work ??? (she says when there is still sections of fluff. but they are intentional to make it hurt more. i hope) thoughts welcome <3
tagging: @hotchfiles @lover-of-books-and-tea
#my works#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner fluff#<- the fluff is only in memories aaron is miserable. fair warning
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after a long day working on a specific murder case, all you want is to do was fall asleep, next to your boyfriend.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fluff fluff and more fluff (i know the title is suggestive but there is no filf here) established relationship, brief mention of insecurity (spencer’s side), general talk of murder and cases
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.4k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 started criminals minds and i fear this man is gonna push me down a rabbit hole. im half-way season two so this fic is kinda inspired on season 2 spence
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
It had been a long day. To start off, you had been called in early at six in the morning, due to an emergency that required your presence. You spent all day talking to witnesses, finally being able to establish a profile of the serial killer you were all hunting down.
You were utterly exhausted. You hadn't been sleeping entirely well, being kept up by nightmares regarding the current case and since it had been an eventful day, not only were you physically tired but mentally as well. What you were all currently dealing with wasn't the most brightening topic, which caused your energy to be drained quickly. Your body begged for a nap and so did your brain.
Since the serial killer was attacking through the city of New York, you and the BAU team were being situated at some random hotel while you stayed the week in order to get some advances on the case. The end of your shift was intended to be around seven thirty, but Hotch asked you to stay behind and help JJ with a few files along with Morgan. Being the person and colleague you were, you agreed without protest.
Those extra two hours were even longer with the never ending teasing of Morgan. Which varied from anything to everything, you knew how Morgan was. Being one of the youngest members on the team, he called dibs on the big brother role, which included the full package deal. Teasing, over-protectiveness, all of it.
It was now ten PM as you walked into the hotel lobby with him and JJ, chatting endlessly about some irrelevant topic your head couldnt entirely latch onto. Your heels were pulsating and you desperately needed to stretch out your back since it was incredibly cramped due to being hunched over for so long. You grimaced as you put a hand on your lower-back.
"Don't tell me you're getting back problems. At your age?" Morgan started. You glared up at him.
"No, these hotel mattresses are utter crap and I slept in some weird position last night." You looked over at the secretary that was eyeing you, unamused. You winced, feeling embarrassment seep into your chest as Morgan and JJ snickered quietly beside you. You smiled awkwardly and waved politely.
"Looks like someone's past their bedtime" He said patting your head. You glared and swatted his hand away.
"I'm not gonna even fight you on that since all I want to do right now is sleep." JJ checked her watch and elbowed Morgans side.
"We should probably go get some rest too," She stated, pointing her head in the opposite direction of the lobby. The room distribution had been messed up upon arrival, leaving half of the team on the left side of the building and the others on the right. "You need Morgan to walk you to your room?"
"I think I can make it to the second floor," You shook your head, laughing to yourself. "But thanks tough guy. Besides, Reids probably still up waiting for me."
They nodded to themselves and with one final goodbye, headed off to their rooms in the other direction. You turned and made your way to the elevator. Once inside, you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. Your head was pounding and your legs desperately begged you to stop moving them.
The elevator came to a stop and you pushed yourself off the wall, waiting for it to open. Once it did, the eerie setting of the empty hallways settled in. Of course your job was bound to leave you with an unsettling feeling of being alone, but you weren't going to ever live down letting Morgan walk you to your room. You quickly made your way to the door of the hotel room you shared with Spencer, slipping the keycard out your back pocket and opening the door.
Once inside, you slid off the heavy coat that hung on your shoulders and hung it on the rack near the door. You heard the sheets shuffling in the room. "Y/N?"
"Hey Spence," You said, walked into the hallway and leaning against the wall that pointed towards the room. "It's me."
You took a look at the sight in front of you and smiled happily, knowing only you had the pleasure of seeing Spencer like this. His back was propped up against the headboard, hairs flying across his forehead showing the contrast between his usual somewhat tamed hair. He had his glasses on and some book he had decided to read in his hand, allowing the small bulb of the nightstand lamp to give him some light to be able to see. You smiled his way tiredly as he looked over at you, setting his book down.
"You're back late," He stated. You let your head drop as you laughed.
"Me, JJ and Morgan were at those files longer than expected, I'm exhausted." You said. He patted the spot next to him.
"Then come sleep," You pushed yourself off the wall.
"I will, let me change and I'll be right with you,"
You turned and grabbed your cotton shorts and long sleeved shirt you usually used to sleep in. Some would debate the actual benefits of sleeping in shorts in New York winter were zero to none. Spencer had done so the first night you arrived, giving you all the reasons it wasn't beneficial and how likely you were to catch a cold. You fought back by explaining how you hated sleeping in long pants, you always had, no matter how cold it was. Besides, his body temperature was enough to heat up the whole bed, which was another beneficial reason to wearing shorts to sleep. Why avoid the cold when you had your very own personal human heater?
You looked at yourself in the mirror, failing to avoid the bags that were beginning to appear beneath your eyes. You quickly slipped off your turtleneck, sweater and jeans and put on your sleeping clothes. Once done, you left the bathroom, turning off the lights and closing the door behind you. As you made your way to Spencer's side of the bed, you pulled your hair out of the low bun it sat in.
When you began climbing into bed, Spencer threw the duvet cover backward, allowing you to climb in and rest yourself soundly between his legs, laying your head against his chest.
The comfortable surface of his sturdy yet soft chest was way more comfortable than the mattress, you just hoped you weren’t squishing him. The silence that surrounded the two of you was enough to put you to sleep in that very moment.
Spencer tossed his book onto the nightstand, slipping his glasses off his face as he quickly turned his attention to you. You placed your palms flat against his chest and rested on your chin, allowing yourself to look up at him with a tired smile.
"Hi." You said. He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling down at you with his infamous dopey smile.
"Hi," He said back, smile growing wider. "Were those extra two hours hard to sit through?"
"Don't even," You groaned. "You were so lucky Hotch didn't grab you to help with those files. You also have no idea how jealous I am of the fact that you've been lying in bed since eight,"
He stared at you empathetically, letting his hand linger around your face, tracing patterns on your jaw while you looked up at him with big tired eyes. "Jealous of me? Being able to lay in these mattresses?"
You giggled. "Thats true, you're much more comfortable."
He let him thumb linger across your cheek, looking across your face lovingly. You closed your eyes and basked in the comfort of his gaze.
You and Spencer had been dating for over a year now. The two of you met when you became part of the BAU not long after he had started. Initially, you had gotten along so well in the begging due to how close the two of you were in age, but then it started shifting into something beyond that.
Every second spent with him would make you feel at peace. Working in the FBI had always felt so loud, but since you started working alongside Spencer, things became a little more quiet and less stressful. You loved spending time with him, and becoming best friends with him wasn't something that took long. You two were very similar after all. Before you knew it, you started seeing him outside of work, weekends, the majority of time was spent beside him.
It took a while for him to make a move, given since he wasn't the most socially outgoing person. It didn't take long for him to become your friend, but the second the two of you realized things were moving beyond a friendship, he'd become a rambling mess in the matter of seconds by just sharing a simple conversation with you. You found it extremely endearing realizing how much of an effect you had on him.
It took time but eventually, as your relationship began and you started spending time with each other in different ways, and getting to know each other on more of a romantic level. With time, he got more comfortable with himself and your growing relationship.
You gave him boost of confidence that no one else was able to cause. And slowly falling in love with him was probably one of the best things you've gone through.
Spencer leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips, savoring any and every second he could with you. You sighed happily into the kiss, sensing how all your muscles began resting at his touch, how your body began feeling featherlike.
You pulled away, pecking his lips two more times just for desperate measures. "I missed you."
He hummed, placing a small kiss on your forehead before allowing his hands to travel down the side of your ribcage and onto your back. You hummed lowly, letting your eyes flutter close as you let him trace small patterns on your back with his fingernails. Your body suddenly covered itself in goosebumps, feeling nothing but overwhelming pleasure seep into every muscle and joint in your body. It made your heart flutter and swell, feeling how light his fingers danced across your skin and how gentle he was with you.
It had taken a lot for Spencer to open up to physical touch. You knew there was a side of him that loved being connected to you through any sort of physical contact, wether it be holding his hands, a kiss on the cheek, linking your arms together, saying hi in the morning with a hug or a soft peck. But his insecurities in the beginning of the relationship prevented him from letting that side show.
With time and patience, and lots of reassurance on your side, physical contact with you began nearly as necessary as breathing to Spencer.
Spencer always enjoyed giving you back scratches. He loved how your body immediately fell into his when he dragged his fingers along your back. He sometimes grabbed your arm to himself and traced patterns across while you were watching movies or when you woke up. There won’t be a day he forgets to greet you at your desk before heading to his own, despite always trying to avoid being seen by Morgan, who’d tease him endlessly, which is ultimately why he decides to keep his relationship with you far away from your coworkers. And so do you.
As much as everyone knew you were happily together, it wouldn’t be the same having every interaction scrutinized in both of your workplaces.
Nevertheless, he’ll always bend over your slouched position on your desk chair and say hi. He’ll let his hand linger on your back and trace repetitive circles almost always while you talked to him. Even if it was just thirty seconds, your body responded incredibly well to his soft touches.
His back scratches was just what you needed. Spencer was extremely good at reading you, and he responded to your needs in a way no one else had ever managed to. He knew that you looked more than exhausted when you got to the hotel room.
Right now, with his hands trailing around your tired body and aching back, you could practically feel yourself purring. His hand travelled along your shirt, reaching up beneath it to scratch your back without the layer of fabric, knowing you loved it even more. When he felt your body deflate he chuckled softly to himself.
"This is nice," You mumbled quietly, sighing contently.
"Did you know that when someone cratches your back, your brain releases Serotonin?" He started. You looked up at him with a wide smile as his hand continued traveling along your back.
"No, I did not."
"It's a neurotransmitter that promotes positive feelings. Our skin is abundant with sensory receptors which are called mechanoreceptors. When stimulated, specifically by human touch, they send signals to the brain which triggers pleasurable sensations. It's kind of like a light therapeutic touch, some people even call it scratch therapy." His hands traveled mindlessly, along with his words as he gazed up at the ceiling.
"Its primary purpose is to enhance one's mood for the better since it mainly releases endorphins and serotonin, hormones that tend to fight off cortisol. It's also said to relieve muscle tension, since the repetitive motion stimulates the natural release of these mood-boosting hormones. Your muscles respond and alleviate all the discomfort and stiffness on their own."
"Most importantly, it mimics gestures of affection and care. This specific type of touch motivates a sense of connection which can foster trust and bonding. Most people turn to this form of therapy because of how soothing the sensation can be both mentally and physically." He looked down at you only to find you watching him with all the affection you could possibly find in yourself.
"So thats why you always scratch my back, huh?" You pointed a finger at him and he smiled down at you, shrugging.
"Maybe,"
Spencer rambling about anything and every topic you could bring up was about your favorite thing about him, because unlike many people who knew him, you actually listened and soaked up every single word he said. Hell, you learned more with him in the past year than the first five years of your adulthood.
Watching him talk, and sound so clever and smart while doing so was something you immediately loved about him.
"I love when you go all wikipedia on me," You kissed the corner of his jaw and positioned yourself sound against his chest. He let out a low laugh as one of his arms held you against his chest while the other continued its repetitive patters. "Don't you dare stop with this scratch therapy stuff, I was just starting to feel that one knot in my back disappear."
He kissed the crown of your head as you began slipping off into your deep sleep. "Wasnt going to."
#spencer reid#spence#spencer#spencer x reader#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid x fanfiction#criminal case#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader#fluff fanfiction#fiction#fanfic#fic rec#fluff#love#prompts
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
Puppy Love - Ch.1
Pairings: Spencer Reid x female reader
Summary: It’s your first day at the BAU and you meet the genius Dr. Spencer Reid who quickly becomes a blabbering, stuttering mess once you start to get to know him.
Warnings: light swearing, mentions of horror movies/books, general anxiety
Word count: 2182
Next chapter
————————————————————————
The hot sweat that radiated off your body contradicted the chilly morning condensation slowly dripping down the windows of the small but practical car you got for your eighteenth birthday. Nearing a whole six years ago.
You watched as the droplets raced against each other, a harsh battle for which one would reach the window sill first. In an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you were parked outside the FBI Quantico headquarters, where you were about to start your first ever day as a real FBI agent.
You swung open the car door forcefully, heart pounding with an overwhelming sense of anxiety that comes with starting any new job. Let alone, one of the most highly sought-after and official in the country.
Standing outside in the soft breeze with the tranquil sound of lush trees whisking in the wind, you took a deep inhale. Soon exhaling as you briskly walked your way through the glass sliding doors, into the cold and desolate hallways. Choosing to ignore the emptiness, considering it was 7:30 am and you and your new unit chief, Aaron Hotcher, were presumably the only two people in the building.
Your fingernails dug into the sides of your upper thighs over the rough fabric of your plain black, possibly too-tight slacks. Accentuating in all the right places- just because you’re a huge nerd whose only hobby is reading the latest articles in just about anything, except for maybe how to become an alpha male with a PhD in hating women, does NOT mean you have poor taste in fashion.
Your hand hesitantly reached out towards Hotchs' office door to place three short knocks against it. "Come in." A deep, no-nonsense, kind of voice called out from inside the room. One last deep breath out before you prepared for the best act of faux confidence, dare I say ever performed.
That was until you could feel his eyes reading every tiny detail about you like a book, from the insecure look in your eyes down to the over-thought-out choice of your plain black slacks. All your prior preparation was completely thrown astray. You forgot that profilers also profile regular people, much different to deranged criminals. "H-hello, I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)". You stuttered as you reached to shake the intimidating man's hand. "Welcome to the BAU (Y/L/N), it's a pleasure to meet you".
He went over all the formalities with you until it was time to introduce yourself to the rest of the team, all of which you knew a bit of information about from previous research. Not to be creepy but just to get more acquainted with everyone, lessen the overload of information you were inevitably absorbing on that day.
Your eyes scanned the bullpen as one by one, agents walked through the glass doors of the BAU. Having seen all your soon-to-be-colleagues in the various articles you'd read, none of them phased you, except one. He was tall, and handsome, with slick-back chocolate brown hair, and big, adorable hazel eyes shielded by a pair of glasses, only being 1 year your senior but having accomplished three times as much as you. It was the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid.
He locked eyes with you for a second, before you swiftly averted your gaze to who you presumed was SSA Emily Prentiss, cheeks slightly tinted rosy to have been caught staring. The sound of a door opening and closing alerted you to Hotch advancing towards you, it was time to get the most nerve-wracking part out of the way.
With clammy hands and an urge to jump off a building, Hotch cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his team. "Hi I-um-I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but I guess you can call me SSA (Y/L/N), or (Y/N), whichever you'd like!" Well, you completely fucked that one up, may as well just quit right then and there. This was not going according to plan.
"I think I like baby girl better, or maybe pretty girl, you seem like the copy-and-paste female version of our pretty boy Spence here". That must have been the infamous Derek Morgan, judging by his suave attitude and demeanour. Unsure of what to say, you heard another voice speak instead.
"Morgan! You can't just say that, especially not to (Y/N), it's her first day, and I'm not even a pretty boy so that comparison is quite redundant in the first place!" Spencer whisper yelled at Derek. "Come on Reid, she's gonna have to get used to me at some point may as well start as early as possible." He said as he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Oh, 'em, gee!! You're so, so, cute! Hi, I'm Penelope Garcia, the world's best tech analyst who can just about hack into anyone's devices." You chuckled lightly before she enthusiastically took your hand. "Good to know, I'll keep that in mind for whenever my ex tries to contact me again". You two both began to break out into a small fit of giggles before another three people approached you.
Jennifer jaureu, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss and yourself exchanged greetings and humorous banter before Hotch ordered the team to meet in the briefing room for your first case. A mixture of excitement and consternation bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you cautiously made your way down the steps.
The team found their usual spots at the round table, leaving a singular spot next to Spencer Reid. You crept up to the seat, eyes darting wildly over anything that wasn't his own, before facing your body towards him.
"Could I- perhaps, sit here, please?" Spencer nearly jumped at your voice, a little startled by your sudden appearance. "Ah-well, y-yes of course, uh- nice to meet you, sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I didn't mean anything by it, it just seemed like you were busy with other people and- and it just-" "Reid!" Hotch slightly raised his voice to get the attention of the Dr. after calling it out about 5, 10, maybe even 15 times. It's not exactly like you were paying any attention to Hotchner either.
Spencer let out a meek "sorry" before The briefing began. The case involved a string of murders involving families in their own homes, those of which were alarmingly brutal. Even though you had worked with stuff similar to this in the academy, the reality of the crimes never fully set in as it did when you were the one investigating murders and catching the killers.
The briefing wrapped up and not long after it was "wheels up in 30" as Hotch likes to say. You felt like you were already learning a lot about everyone, making it much easier to feel comfortable around them. Although Spencer was still unexplored territory to you.
—x—
"Oh um yeah I really like that book! I mean I think you could already figure by me reading it.." he trailed off before awkwardly tittering. "Have you watched the movie too?" You questioned him, trying to get him to open up more regardless of the fact you were also extremely terrified of most human interaction.
"I have, surprisingly, I mostly just read books". He simply stated. "Ah I see, are you into any horror movies though? Because damn do I love them!!" "I do, I do! They're practically the only ones I watch but I have a fascination with the horror genre, as well as Halloween. Arguably the best holiday ever."
You laughed at his exceedingly biased opinion, sitting yourself down across from him on the plush couch to continue your conversation. In due time, the rest of the team piled in, Spencer and I's delightful discussion was cut short as we had to talk about real-life horror, not nearly as fun.
—x—
As you worked tirelessly into the once radiant sunlight-filled skies, now shrouded by darkness, you could feel the looming presence of slumber sneaking its way into every inch of your body. That seemed to be the way everyone else was feeling too, the drooping eyelids and slouched posture a tell-tale sign that we all needed some well-earned rest.
"Alright let's wrap it up for tonight, we aren't going to make any progress in this state and we need some fresh eyes," Hotch announced. We began packing our go-bags up to head to the least sketchy motel, which was still extremely mediocre at best.
You lazily undressed and threw on your oversized cal tech T-shirt, just your underwear underneath before crawling under the worn-in duvet covers. The moment your head hit the pillow you were out like a light.
The same unfortunately couldn't be said for dear Spencer, a lot was plaguing his thoughts. Some were about the case, most were about you. How smart you were, how pretty you were, and especially how well you got along. It wasn't often Reid warmed up to people this quick, even less so with that of the opposite gender, but he found himself getting lost deep in conversation with you. It felt too good to be true, after all he didn’t have the best luck with women.
As he twisted and turned over between his left and right sides, Spencer knew he was getting nowhere. His lanky frame sat upright on the bed, reaching out for his glasses to have some clue where he was heading. He glanced over at the time; 3:42 am, before creaking the door open carefully so as to not wake his dreaming coworkers.
The Dr. made his way in the direction of the lobby, passing by the arguably atrocious-looking floral wall print and stain-ridden carpet. Soon stopping by a janky old vending machine accompanied by an even dodgier-looking water dispenser. He fumbled around in his sweatpants pockets before he inserted a coin to get the sweetest coffee available. He scrunched his nose in dismay, it wasn't sweet at all (It probably was but we know how much sugar this man likes in his coffee).
"Spencer..?" A voice chimed out to him, your voice. "Oh (Y/N), what are.. you um- doing here?" He fidgeted with his hands before looking down to make eye contact. "I could say the same thing," you snickered. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I might as well get some coffee before I attempted to do some more work on the case," He explained.
His eyes travelled even further down your figure, passing the ends of the messy (H/C) hair cascading down your chest. He noticed a familiar bold black text plastered on the front of your T-shirt. The realisation hit in the form of a deep red blush creeping its way up his neck onto his sculpted cheeks, as you were wearing the exact same thing. Excluding the bottom wear, were you even wearing anything underneath- fucking hell could this get any worse for him?
Quick answer, it could. You reached your arm up to snatch the coffee from his grasp, tutting your lip while your shirt had risen just about as far as it could go before you'd flash your lace panties for anyone to see. "Give me that, you need to sleep!" You scolded him, your palm pressed flat against his chest, trying to obtain the drink. He sharply inhaled at the movement, unsure of what to do next.
"It's ok seriously, I wouldn't be able to sleep either way." He assured you, but your stubborn ass couldn't take that as an answer. "You could always come to my room, I'm sure me cuddling you would make you sleep like a baby," you teased. "E-excuse me, what.. do you-" "I'm only kidding, jeez ever heard of sarcasm?" You heartily laughed.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to articulate any kind of thought racing his temporarily stupefied mind into speech. As Emily said an IQ of 187 was slashed to 60. Luckily for him, you chose to pull away to grab a disposable cup. Lukewarm water trickled into it as you waited impatiently for it to fill.
"God, could this take any longer?" You let out an exaggerated huff before downing it in one go. "And room temperature too?! This place desperately needs some upgrades." Spencer chuckled at your hysterics before you snapped back at him, "What exactly do think you're laughing at, if I recall correctly you were the one left all cute and flustered by my little joke." You raised your eyebrow waiting for a response yet none came, that sure shut him up.
The thud of the coffee cup as it dropped to the bottom of the trash can rang through both of your ears before you promptly turned on your slippers to head back to your own... compact, motel room. Leaving him a star-struck mess who would certainly not need any caffeinated beverages to stay awake till dawn.
Hope this wasn’t dog shit and you enjoyed, l’ll be uploading more parts to this series soon. Thanks for reading and feel free to make any requests for Spencer 😜.
#spencer reid’s hands in every episode#Spencer#spencer reid#spencer x reader#Spencer Reid x Reader#matthew gray gubler#mgg#mgg x Reader#Spencer Reid x fem reader#criminal minds#cm#i need him#cutie#cutie pie#early seasons Spencer
278 notes
·
View notes
Note
slight angst with happy ending for aaron hotchner
he misunderstands your body language or something (maybe you grew a bit distant, more time on phone etc) and he thinks you cheat cuz he’s travelling for work and he’s had this small insecurity for a while
but obviously you’re not (leave it to you what reader was doing and if she reveals) cheating and comfort ensues
(love me some jealous hotch)
fem!plus size reader, wc: 566.
cw! angst, and fears of cheating :(
a/n: i know i need to let the angst breathe, but being the angst lover that i am, i almost jumped at this LMAO.
Aaron wouldn’t blame you for cheating on him.
He was never home, he had a hard time answering your calls, and he barely texted you back; especially if he was away on a case.
He hated that he even thought like this, but many nights he’d often catch you on your phone, texting away like he wasn’t lying right next to you. Aaron hated being nosy, but he’d sometimes find himself leaning over – just a bit – and playing it off as kissing you on cheek and bidding you goodnight.
He’d understand if you were using the device to cool down or relax, but it was an everyday affair. When you were cooking? You’re texting with one hand. When you’re eating? As soon as the damn thing vibrates your eyes flicker over to where Aaron was sitting across from you quickly before looking back down and flipping the damn thing over.
Who the hell was holding your attention like this?
Aaron didn’t want to offend you by accusing you of cheating on him, because he loves you, but if he didn’t at least know he would go crazy.
“Honey?” He had called out to you one night, his voice soft.
“Hm?” You hummed, your eyes still attached to your screen that illuminated the soft contours of your face. God, you were breathtaking.
“I -” For the first time since the beginning of your relationship, Aaron had no idea how to talk to you. “I don’t mean to intrude but… what are you doing?”
Your eyebrows furrow and you look up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that for the past week your phone has been glued to your hand.”
You look almost surprised at his confrontation, and that made his stomach drop. Is it really as bad as he thought it was? He felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.
“Oh.” You were almost conflicted. “I-”
“Is there someone else?” Aaron never interrupted you, but he had to know, he had to get the hard part out of the way.
Your jaw dropped and your brows dipped low in disbelief, “Wha - what? No!” You scrambled to shove your device in his hand. “There’s no one Aaron, look.” Your head gestured down to your phone and when he did, he felt like an idiot.
There at the top was labeled ‘Penny <3’
“You know… your birthday is coming up soon, and me and Penelope were just trying to plan something nice for you. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t ask me about it because you know I can’t lie to you, and I didn’t want all of Penelope’s hard work to go to waste.”
Oh yeah, he was definitely really fucking embarrassed, but he was also overcome with the overwhelming feeling of shame.
How could he have assumed the worst out of you? All this time you were distant was because you loved him so much to the point where you couldn't keep anything from him.
“Oh, honey I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with remorse, and you only grabbed his large hand and kissed the back of it in response. You felt a cheeky smile tugging on your face.
“I’ll forgive you on one condition.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” You shivered at the satisfying sound.
“You have to act surprised when you walk into the room okay?”
He chuckles but nods, “I promise.”
ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
#✰ ― meau's inbox !#aaron x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x plus size reader#plus size reader#x plus size reader#plus size!reader#x chubby reader#chubby reader#fanfiction#fluff#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron cm#aaron hotchner cm#aaron criminal minds#aaron hotchner criminal minds#cm#criminal minds#cm fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction
405 notes
·
View notes
Text
What did you call me?
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|6.7k words
Aaron Hotchner x plus-size!reader
NSFW Minors dni please
Warning(s): slight angst, daddy kink, lead up to sex, body insecurities, Dom/sub relationship, sex clubs/strip clubs, confrontation with an unsub who has a knife, minor violence, firearm.
When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Hello everyone!!! Gosh, I didn't expect people to enjoy the first part so much so thank you 💖💖💖💖 it means a lot! If you would also like to join the taglist then please let me know :) Thank you for reading!
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Another couple had been found dead soon enough, they'd also visited the same sex club the night before the estimated time of death. And just the same as the other couples, they were also in the middle of intercourse when they were murdered. But once again the killer had evaded being discovered. Everyone who worked in the club or had visited during the same night the couple had were interrogated, a process that had taken a few days but ultimately turned up no-one of note. Needless to say, the atmosphere in the station was exceedingly tense.
The chief of police was clearly at his wits end, his thin, greying hair was tussled and sticking to his skin from the sweat beading on his creased forehead. He stormed into the conference room yourself and the rest of the BAU were set up in and he made a beeline towards Hotch, of whom was reading back over the profile that you were all struggling to put together.
"Why the hell aren't you all doing anything?! I don't see why you're even here!" He snapped, causing everyone to focus on his reddening face. Hotch slowly turned to him, towering above him effortlessly, and glared.
"If you'll recall, you requested our assistance. And as you can see my team and I are working."
He turned slightly to gesture around the room and his eyes immediately met yours. Your brow furrowed slightly, wishing the chief would project his frustration on all of you, rather than just one person. You straightened up from where you were reviewing the footage from the night of the recent incident.
"I-I- think I have a theory that will help us figure out who the culprit is." You said. The chief spun sharply and you inwardly praised yourself for not flinching when he focused on you. Your eyes flicked to the man beside him for a split second.
"Well? Say it." Your eyes returned to the former again, unimpressed by his rudeness.
"The women. The victims that were women were all wearing a collar of some sort, but when their bodies were discovered there were no collars in sight, not even in the locations they were found in or amongst their belongings." You spoke smoothly, beckoning all to the computer screen you were at.
"You think the killer takes them?" The chief wondered aloud. Rossi answered on your behalf.
"Some killers take trophies from their victims, something to remember them by." He said.
"But what would the unsub do with the collars?" You heard JJ say. Emily crossed the room and pulled off the photos of the victims from the white board, bringing them back over to the monitor to compare with the different footage.
"Maybe they just collect them."
You narrowed your eyes a little as your mind rewound over the different people that had been interrogated over the past couple of days since the latest murder.
"Or they wear them." You mumbled.
"What was that?" Rossi prompted you and you cleared your throat, repeating yourself.
"I think they could possibly be wearing the collars until they find a new couple, then replace the collar with the newest victim's."
The chief huffed.
"The footage isn't clear enough to pinpoint who's wearing them though."
All eyes were upon Hotch now, of whom stood with his left hand on his hip, deep in thought. He glanced at Rossi.
"We'll have to go in." He said after a moment.
"As in...?" JJ trailed off. Your eyes widened. Hotch nodded and his eyes flicked from face to face.
"Yes. Two of us will need to bait the unsub out." He clarified.
Oh boy.
"Well Morgan and I wouldn't be able to go back there given that we would be instantly recognised as federal agents." Emily said and you hummed in agreement. Hotch's brow furrowed moreso than ever before sighing.
"I have not been in there, so I'll go."
Your eyes flicked to JJ, who stared back and slightly shook her head. Without breaking eye contact with you she opened her mouth to speak.
"I'm not so sure about doing this."
You winced. Emily elbowed you subtly, making you tense up. You felt eyes on you and your breath hitched when your own met brown ones. Hotch gazed down at you. Oh no.
"(L/n)?"
Fuck. This was a bad idea. You drew in a shaky breath and nodded.
"I guess we have no other options." You said finally. Something shifted in his face, a very subtle expression you couldn't read, before it was gone and his attention returned to the whole group.
"It's settled then. This unsub will follow us to wherever we are headed to once we have their attention," He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his contacts. "With that in mind we should book a room in a different hotel if there aren't any new rooms available in the one we're in currently."
Your heart was pounding now, and you knew Emily could feel just how tense you were.
"We'll help (Y/n) with finding an appropriate outfit for tonight." She said. Hotch eyed her and nodded, pressing his phone to his ear.
"Garcia, I need you to..."
Your thoughts drowned out his voice, circling in your mind as you realised just what your undercover mission entailed. Pretending to be a dominant and submissive couple with the man you harboured strong feelings for? Absolutely awful. A truly terrible idea. And the fact that the couples were all found murdered mid-coital--
A hand appeared in front of your face and you blinked, slowly focussing on who was stood in front of you. Emily fought back a grin as you took her hand and you realised you'd been staring at Hotch, of whom was behind Emily eyeing you. With cheeks warming, you returned your attention to the woman in front of you and took her hand. She hummed.
"Lost in thought, hmm?" She asked casually.
"Shut up."
"Aww, don't be like that. We have to go find you an outfit now anyway."
She pulled you out of the office, JJ tagging alongside you and you turned your head back, meeting eyes with Hotch one last time. You were absolutely fucked.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Oh, you were absolutely going to kill Emily Prentiss for this. You'd managed to purchase a velvety little burgundy number that was more form fitting than what you were used to, some heels to match and even a black collar that had the words 'GOOD GIRL' adorning it in silver metal letters. Not only that, you'd treated yourself to a lovely red lingerie set to boost your confidence. But that wasn't the problem. The woman had insisted on visiting the back of the lingerie store to purchase one more item, an item that you had refused to buy until Emily simply took it to the clerk herself.
You huffed quietly as you walked alongside Hotch down the corridor in a different hotel that Garcia had booked for you both tonight. You weren't wearing the clothes you picked out for the club, instead wearing a black pencil skirt and the shirt you had been wearing earlier, tucked into the skirt. It was again, Emily's idea for you to wear a pair of heels for this as well. The sound of the suitcase wheels rumbled softly on the carpeted flooring and in your hands the room key-card warmed to your body temperature.
"Are you okay?" You heard Hotch say as you came to a stop outside your hotel room door. Not trusting yourself to look at him you simply nodded.
"Yeah. Are you?" You asked weakly and it was his turn to huff out a breath.
"Fine."
You flicked the card against the pad and pushed the handle down to enter the room. Garcia had, admittedly, found a double bed in a higher end hotel near the club but you certainly were not expecting this.
The room was huge. The hallway had an expensive oak wood table laid out against one wall with a vase of flowers on top. The walls were a pristine white and the decorating retained a theme of red accents, from the artwork on the walls to the duvet and pillows on the bed. Oh right, the bed...
A luxuriously large double bed stood in the centre of the room adorned with expensive sheets and pillows. You had to admit, it did look like a very comfy bed. You kicked off your heels and padded through to the main area of the room and perched on the side of it.
"If anything, Garcia certainly knows how to get us a good deal." You said light-heartedly and Hotch hummed, carrying the suitcase over to the bed and laying it down on its side. Your eyes drifted around the room still, slightly in awe of it all. It was incredible enough to almost have you forgetting the reason you were actually there.
"Let's read over the profile and notes one more time before we get ready to head out." Hotch murmured as he pulled the zipper on the case to open it. "We should also discuss what our dynamic is meant to..."
You blinked and turned your head in his direction. He was tense, brows pulled together. In hand was the casefile but his attention wasn't on it.
"What's wro...ng?" Your eyes drifted down to the suitcase and in an instant you knew the problem. Nestled on top of your clothing was a pastel pink vibrator and a matching remote. Fuck.
"Why is this in here?" Hotch asked slowly. Your eyes trailed back up to him. His gaze was dark, intense. A shiver shuddered through you.
"I.... It wasn't meant to be." You dipped your head and your cheeks felt hot, a coil forming in your lower abdomen. "Emily, uh, she bought it to apparently help with getting into character. I'd say she was joking but I never know with that woman." You trailed off and fiddled with the fabric of your skirt.
"I see..."
You lifted your head up and drew in a shaky breath when you realised he was still staring at you.
"I think she must have snuck it back into the suitcase because I left it in my room. Sorry about that."
Hotch studied you for a while, clearly debating something in his head with the way his eyes narrowed slightly. It made you uncomfortable, shifting under his gaze and after a moment you grabbed the device and made a move to shove it into the bottom of the case.
"Let's just forget about it, I'm SO gonna have a go at her for this." You rambled, that is until a warm, large hand came to grab both of your smaller hands, and ultimately made you pause. What the...
"Maybe... I mean, if you were comfortable, we could use it- as in you hide it under your dress and I'll have the remote- so it draws more attention our way." Hotch said and now it was your turn to stare. Holy shit, he wanted to actually use it?! You swallowed thickly and nodded.
"S-sure. Uh, I'll pin it to the side of my thigh with my pantyhose."
Hotch moved his hand away and you and this allowed you to grab your clothing for tonight. You pushed off the bed rapidly and made a beeline for the bathroom.
"Gonna get changed." You mumbled quickly and closed the door behind you. Fuck. Sitting down on the lid of the toilet after placing your clothes on the bathroom counter you rubbed your thighs together, attempting to ease the throb between your legs. This whole situation was a bad idea. The fact that you'd have to pretend to be a couple with him of all people whilst battling the complicated feelings you had going on troubled you. You hadn't forgotten what he told Rossi the other night, the ache in your chest lingering still. How would you return to normality after this? To pretend your feelings for him didn't exist, that you wished this wasn't just for an undercover job.
Both upset and horny now, you huffed and stripped off so you could change into the new lingerie and dress. Your eyes glanced at the mirror whilst you pulled the set on and you had to admit, you looked incredible. And when you finished pulling the dress into position you stepped back and gazed at your reflection your eyes widened.
The fabric hugged closely to your body, your hips curved with delicate drapes of fabric that spanned across your plump stomach deliciously. The queen anne neckline concealed your bra but the openness displayed the tantalising plain of your chest. You felt good, really good. With a smile, you grabbed your discarded clothing and exited the bathroom, only to stop short at the sight of Hotch's bare back as he pulled on a black dress shirt. He glanced back at you in surprise, not turning to face you though. You stammered and averted your eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't realise you were changing."
Hotch hummed, fastening the buttons of the shirt whilst you passed him to place your folded clothes back into the suitcase.
"It's alright, no harm done." He responded quietly and at the corner of your eye you could tell he was watching you as he tucked the shirt into his dress pants. You lifted your gaze to him properly and you frowned a little. He noticed and raised a brow. "What's wrong?"
You approached him and lifted your hands to the top few buttons, unfastening them to show off more of his neck and collarbones.
"That looks better I think." You mumbled. When your eyes flitted to his face you trembled, stepping away quickly whilst your cheeks flushed. He was smirking ever so subtly at you.
"Oh? Well I'll take your word for it."
You nodded and grabbed the heels that matched your dress and sat down on the bed so you could put them on. Irritatingly, the bed was quite tall and made fastening the shoes difficult. During your struggle you didn't realise the man before you had knelt down until his hands came into view, one grasping your ankle gently whilst the other took the shoe from your hand. Your head shot up and you let out a squeak when you realised how close to his face you were whilst slouched over. That little smirk was still there.
"Let me help you." He insisted softly, voice deep and breath fanning across your cheeks, only emphasizing just how close your faces were to one another. You straightened up and bashfully looked away from him. The sight of him kneeling in front of you like this had your thoughts spiraling, imagining him grasping both your ankles and spreading your legs and leaning his face closer and closer to your throbbing slit-
You cleared your throat, feeling perverted, and internally scolded yourself for thinking about such things, especially with him so close to you right now.
"O-okay. Thank you, sir."
He hummed again and made swift but gentle work of fastening your shoes on, his large hands skillful as though he had done this many times in the past for his ex-wife. You tried not to think too much about that though.
Once ready, you hopped off the bed and grabbed the vibrator. You puffed out a breath.
"I'll, uhm, pin this to my thigh now." You said and turned away from him so you could shove your hand down your pantyhose and slide the toy into the correct spot on your leg. When you pulled the skirt of the dress back down you were satisfied that it was undetectable. Spinning, you held your arms out to present yourself. "Well? Do you think this is okay?"
Hotch studied you with dark eyes, trailing up and down your figure slowly.
"Beautiful," He said finally and stepped towards you. "However, you forgot this-"
In his hand was the collar you'd picked out. Your eyes widened a little as you reached for it.
"Oh, yeah I did. Thanks, I'll-"
Hotch pulled his hand out of reach, surprising you. His eyes bored down into yours as you frowned at him.
"Let me."
"Oh." You trembled a little as he turned you to face away from him and carefully, he fastened the collar around your neck, fingers brushing against your skin slightly and causing a shiver to dance down your spine. His hands lingered a moment longer, then he took a step back.
"There you go."
You turned to face him again and his eyes lingered on the new piece of jewelry. You swallowed thickly.
"Thanks. Uhm, let's read the file and then we can go." You said and Hotch hummed.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Everything would be okay, you thought to yourself. But realistically, you felt almost sick with nerves. You never did undercover work, let alone something as confronting and intimate as this. Hotch walked alongside you in the warm, slightly clammy night towards the sex club, his hand on the small of your back. Initially, when he rested his hand there you'd jolted, making him pull his hand back and apologise. You'd shyly let him know it was okay, you just hadn't expected it. Your heels clacked on the sidewalk, the only noise besides the passing of cars or other people dotted around. You felt Hotch's thumb gently rub against your back, causing your cheeks to feel flushed.
"Just follow my lead." He murmured into your ear. You shuddered as his breath fanned against your neck and you knew he felt it from the more firm grasp of his hand on your back.
Eventually, you both came to a stop in front of the unassuming door which led down to the club. Glancing at one another, you nodded once and assumed the act of an overly affectionate couple for when you pressed the buzzer to be allowed inside. You wrapped your arm around Hotch's waist, feeling his torso tense underneath you as he pulled you closer towards him. The action made you automatically lay your hand against his chest to balance yourself and you could feel the warmth of his body, the strumming of his heartbeat.
A short moment later you were walking down the staircase that separated the outdoors from the club. Loud, pulsing music played through unseen speakers and immediately the two of you were greeted by the sight of scantily dressed women and men, eyeing you both as you crossed the room to the front desk. You were very uncomfortable. Hotch took charge talking to the woman at the desk whilst your eyes drifted around the room, taking in the environment. Your attention was drawn back to Hotch and the woman when his arm tightened around you and his hand squeezed your hip.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's have a look around." Hotch murmured and you jolted. He called you sweetheart. You bit your lip and hummed, letting him lead you away from the entrance. You found a crescent-shaped booth in the middle of the main lounge to settle in for a moment and you snuggled closely up to him, inhaling his scent. His hand was around you, resting on your lower back again and stroking you with his fingertips. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, you bit back a noise as you tried to calm yourself down.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to kiss you and get handsy with you?" He asked again, despite having discussed yours and his boundaries back at the hotel. You nodded and swung your leg over his hips, pushing yourself up so you could gaze at his face. He was watching you through lidded eyes and his hands came to grip your hips. You felt hot, needy.
"Of course I am. What should I call you though?" You murmured back, eyes flicking between his lips and the rest of his face. He raised a brow.
"Whatever you want to, sweetheart."
You shuddered again and hummed.
"Okay, daddy."
Something flared in his eyes and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap properly, straddling him with your hands bracing yourself up on his shoulders. Your eyes flew open wide and you gasped, he held back a smirk. You pouted.
"A little warning next time."
His hands squeezed again.
"Sorry. Are you alright?" He asked quietly. You nodded and craned your neck, peeking over the top of the booth and scanning the area, trying to spot anyone of note. You felt a hot breath against the valley between your breasts and you gasped out, hands gripping tighter on Hotch's shoulders. You slid back down to straddle one of his thighs and blushed, avoiding his gaze.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't think I would be all up in your face like that! I was just trying to look over the top of the booth." You fumbled out quickly and Hotch's hands tightened, moving slightly just shy of your ass.
"It's fine." You heard him say, but it sounded strained. "Do you see anyone suspicious?"
"No, not yet. Maybe we should get refreshments so we have the chance to interact with people more."
"Yes. I'll wave over someone." He murmured. A moment later, a woman wearing a black lingerie set and heels approached your booth and swayed her hips, smiling seductively at the two of you.
"What can I do for you two tonight?" She asked, eyeing you from head to toe. You tensed a little, not enjoying the staring. Hotch stroked your hips, holding you closer to him.
"Two cokes, please." He responded. The woman sauntered off towards the bar with one more scrutinizing glance over and you slumped a little.
"I can't wait until we get out of here." You grumbled. All of a sudden, the hands on your hips were grabbing your ass cheeks tightly, making you squeak. "H-Hotc-!"
The man below you pressed his lips to yours roughly and you felt your body short-circuit, utterly stunned by him. You kissed back, a whine lingering in your throat which escaped when Hotch pulled away from the kiss. He looked stern.
"What did you call me?"
You whimpered.
"I- I called you Hotch, instead of daddy."
He hummed and smoothed his hands over your rump, encouraging you to roll your hips.
"I hope that wasn't too far, I think I just spotted our unsub though and wanted to solidify their attention on us." He murmured gently. You drew in a shuddering breath.
"N-no it was okay. Very believable I think." You managed to choke out. Reality set back in again for you. This wasn't a fun little night out with your boss, finally getting the touches and kisses you craved, you were there to do your job. You felt tense again and very embarrassed that you'd been caught up in the moment, wishfully thinking of it all being real with your boss. Hotch's brows scrunched together as he felt a shift in your mood.
"(Y/n).. I-"
"-Two cokes for the very cosy couple." You heard from behind you and you jolted, turning your body to see who it was. Your eyes widened.
A slender woman with straight, dyed red hair was standing at the edge of the booth holding two glasses of the fizzy drink. She too was wearing a black lingerie set and heels but that wasn't what your eyes were focused on. Around her neck was a pink leather collar with the phrase "DADDY'S KITTEN" on it. The collar had belonged to the latest female victim. Your eyes drifted back up to her face quickly and you smiled at her.
"Oh, thank you!" You chirped at her in a cutesy voice. She smirked and placed the two glasses down, condensation already rolling down onto the table.
"You two seem to be having a lot of fun."
You felt your cheeks warm and Hotch adjusted you to sit facing away from him, his hands on your expansive thighs. His stomach was tense against your back, a clear sign of him being on high alert.
"Mmm, we don't get to spend much time together. I have to travel to my little girl, you see." He said, then pressed his lips to your neck to kiss it. The sensation of his lips on your sensitive neck made you shudder and grip onto the fabric of his trousers, not even remotely acting. The woman in front of you stared.
"Oh?"
You nodded and pouted.
"I'm studying here but we're going back to our hotel though 'cuz I struggle staying quiet enough in my dorm."
Hotch chuckled and ran his hands up and down your thighs, fingers dipping between them slightly and causing you to whimper. The corner of the woman's mouth twitched.
"Mhm, you looking for a threesome tonight, huh?"
"Actually, I'm trying to teach her to control herself and behave." Hotch answered before you could even open your mouth. And then you felt it, the vibrator stirred to life and began to vibrate violently against your thigh, startling you. You gasped out, hips automatically rolling forward and grinding down on Hotch's lap. The woman in front of you eyed you up and down, realising what she thought was happening and smirked. An unseen woman called for her attention and she stepped back.
"Well, if you need any help with that just let me know."
She turned on her heel and walked away, your eyes following her until she was out of sight. You returned to facing Hotch, pouting.
"That scared the fuck out of me!" You hissed. His eyes glinted mysteriously in the dim lighting, the vibrator continued to buzz against you.
"At least we know who our unsub is. And we got a first name: Tanya."
You nodded slightly.
"We should finish up here then and make a move."
Reluctantly, you climbed off his lap and eyed the drinks on the table. You didn't exactly trust consuming anything the possible unsub had brought out to you. Hotch took hold of your hand.
"Leave them. We need to go." He said and you nodded, letting him pull you out of the booth. He held you close to his body, gazing down at you and leaning close to you. "I'm going to kiss you again and grab your ass before we leave. Is that okay?"
You wanted to laugh at how formal he sounded but held back, instead nodding and gripping onto his shirt.
"Yes, sir."
He pulled you tighter against him and pressed his lips to yours, growling lowly as his hands grabbed handfuls of your ass again. You squeaked, arms throwing over his shoulders and hanging on tight to him. You never wanted this to end, craving his touch over and over and over...
Your lips departed when he pulled away, a smacking noise causing you to shudder a little. His hands smoothed up your body to rest at your lower back and you shifted uncomfortably.
"The vibrator- could you turn it off?"
He blinked at you, then fumbled one of his hands in his pocket.
"Right, yeah. Sorry."
The vibrator stilled and you exhaled, resting your head against his chest. His heart was pounding, chest rising and falling deeply with every breath. God, you were desperate for him to fuck you at this point. Scrunching your eyes closed for a second, you exhaled and pulled away from him to take hold of his hand.
"Let's go." You said softly. You felt eyes on you as Hotch guided you back out of the club and for a mere moment you dared glance around. The unsub was watching you through a fierce glare, eyes following as you walked away. Gotcha, you thought.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
The walk back to the hotel was brisk, still holding onto one another just in case the unsub had already begun following you. Discreetly, Hotch sent a message to Derek to indicate you were both heading back to the hotel and to monitor the security cameras for the unsub, typing out a brief description as well. You were nervous. Nervous about what the unsub would do, but even more so nervous about what you were about to do next.
Once you were back in your hotel room you quickly kicked your heels off and exhaled, gracious that they were finally off your feet.
"I don't know why people wear these things, they fucking hurt." You complained quietly. Hotch watched you for a moment, then pulled his phone out again to call one of the others.
"Give me the word when they head into the hotel." You vaguely heard him talking as you eyed yourself in the large mirror situated on the wall on the right side of the bed. None of your colleagues had seen you dressed in anything less than your current outfit, you never even thought your boss would be the one you'd be undressing for in a moment's time. You bit your lip, hand subconsciously moving to rest against your plump stomach. You shouldn't care what he would think, this was for a job. It wasn't as though you'd ever become a couple from this. And yet...
"Are you alright?" Hotch murmured softly from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. You hadn't realised he'd moved to stand behind you, his brows pulled together and his mouth tugging downward. You dropped your hand immediately and smiled.
"Yes of course. I guess we're playing the waiting game now, huh?"
He didn't smile back, appearing more concerned instead.
"We are, yes. Morgan will give us the signal. Which would mean..." He trailed off. You dropped your gaze, feeling hot and a slightly upset.
"Yeah.. uhm, what should we do?"
"Well, we would have to look as though we were about to engage in intercourse."
Hotch raised a brow when a bubble of laughter escaped you, making your cheeks flush. You covered your mouth, trying to calm yourself down enough to explain yourself.
"Sorry, you're just so formal when discussing something like this. I didn't mean to laugh." You said, revelling in the faint smile that slowly formed on his face. He placed a hand on your arm and turned you to face him. Your eyes widened, heart rate increasing as you gazed up at him in surprise. He thought for a moment, then spoke.
"I was wondering, when this case is finished, if you-"
The shrill of Hotch's ringtone cut him off and the two of you sighed, pulling from one another. He answered. You knew it was time to get ready for the next phase of the job, there was no room for anymore hesitation. When Hotch ended the call and pocketed his phone you were gripping onto the skirt of your dress tightly, trembling a little. You avoided his gaze.
"I'm gonna...uhm, take my dress off now." You warned him gently. And then you slipped the dress up over your head and discarded it on the ground near the bed. You heard a sharp intake of air and cringed, expecting the worst. "You should, uh, keep your shirt on. Just undo a few more buttons. The dominant in the relationship usually is more dressed than the submissive during sex."
"You seem knowledgeable on the subject." Hotch murmured, making your ears feel hot. You quickly pulled the vibrator out from inside your pantyhose and huffed.
"Shut up."
There was a pause, then Hotch was dragging you by the arm firmly but gently and pushing you down on the bed, manhandling you until you were laying amongst the now scattered pillows. You'd let out a yelp and a shout of his usual nickname until you found yourself being straddled by him, your chest heaving and your mouth slightly agape. Hotch sneered down at you, pinning your wrists either side of your head.
"What did you just say to me?" He asked dangerously calmly. You gulped.
"U-uhm.."
He tutted, leaning down to graze his nose along your neck, inhaling.
"Do at least one thing right for me; be loud, let everyone know who you belong to. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"
You trembled, legs falling open a little.
"H-Hotch?"
With a quiet rumble in his chest, he began to suck harshly on your neck, avoiding the collar, and making you cry out.
"Wrong name." He muttered against your skin. Oh... You were unable to think straight, mind feeling mushy and your body tingling and throbbing all for him. The last thing you cared about was the unsub, the man sucking on your skin taking over your entire being. You pushed your chest up against his and whined loudly.
"S-sir, please!"
Hotch growled, pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss whilst his hips pinned yours down, his crotch against yours. You spread your legs wider, wanting him closer to you. His lips detached from yours, a trail of saliva connecting you both for a mere moment, but he wasn't finished. He moved slowly downwards, kissing and sucking your neck again, then your collarbones. Your back arched and you moaned as he sucked a hickey on your left breast, his hands moving from your wrists to your thighs. You could feel him smirking against your skin.
"Such a good girl, let out all those noises. Daddy wants to hear them whilst he marks you up. Gotta make it look like we were up to something, haven't we?." He cooed, spreading your legs wider and grinding against you. You bit your lip as you whimpered; you could have sworn you felt something hard and thick pressing into your clothed pussy.
And then the door burst open.
"Don't fucking move!" A familiar voice snapped, causing you and Hotch to flinch and turn your attention to the doorway.
"W-what-" Hotch played up a stutter. You'd been right, it was the woman who had given you your drinks. She glared at you both as she slammed the door shut behind her, you noted she hadn't locked it, seemingly because she had broken the lock to get into the room as she had done with all the other victims. In her hand was a long kitchen knife, glinting in the room light.
"Shut the fuck up." She stepped closer, pointing the blade towards you. "You disgusting freaks, playing around with such a horrible dynamic! Do you even understand what such relationships do to people?!"
Hotch moved slightly, shielding you from the unsub. It was like whiplash, one moment you were losing yourself to the pleasure of him and the next you were face to face with the murderer under the guise of her having the upper hand. Your eyes drifted slightly, eyeing Hotch for a brief moment, then returning your gaze to the unsub before she noticed.
"Ma'am, I understand that you may not like the lifestyle but why do you think you should kill us for it?" Hotch said calmly, hands raised to show he meant no harm to her. She sneered.
"All you people are the same. Prepared to have a horrible imbalanced relationship but so pathetic when that's threatened." She stepped closer, the handle of the knife trembling slightly with the tight grip she had on it. It wouldn't be long before Derek and the others appeared, but she was getting too close to you and Hotch. Without hesitating a second longer, you lunged towards the man still encasing you below him and grabbed the gun he always had strapped to his ankle, pushing back the safety on it and pointing it at the unsub. Her eyes widened, you stared her down.
"Tanya, put the knife down. We're with the FBI. We know what you've done." You said unwaveringly, forgetting your state of undress as you sat up straighter and faced her. She opened her mouth a few times, unable to think of what to say.
"B-but- you both- you were going to fuck! You seemed so much like a real couple!"
You ignored the sting in your chest, instead lightly pushing Hotch backwards with your shoulder so you could stand up.
"You were good, Tanya. We couldn't quite figure out who it was murdering all those couples. We had to resort to going undercover." You stepped closer, gun still trained on her. "It's over though. Put that knife down."
Hesitation flashed across Tanya's face for a moment, her hands shaking more erratically the longer she stood there. Absently, you sensed Hotch standing behind you and felt proud of yourself when you didn't flinch. Before any of you could make another move the hotel door swung open and the room was flooded with people, Derek leading the way.
"FBI! Put your weapon down now and put your hands up where we can see them!" He yelled. Tanya jolted, dropping the blade as she spun on her heel in utter panic. It was over. You barely registered the arrest being made, instead making quick work of putting the safety back on the gun, placing it on the bed and pulling the dress back over your head so you didn't feel so exposed anymore. You needed to get out of the room, needed fresh air to clear your head. Before anyone could speak to you you were gone, slipping your feet into the heels again and struggling with the buckles, then rushing out of the room.
"Hey! (L/n)! Where are you going!?" You heard Emily shout but you didn't stop, not until you reached the outdoors.
Back in the hotel room Rossi casually approached Hotch, who was staring after your abrupt exit with a deep-set frown.
"What was that about?" Rossi asked, feigning disinterest.
"I don't know. I need to go after her."
Before the taller of the two men could run after you, Rossi grabbed his arm and raised a brow.
"I would wait a bit. Unlike the female body, it's much easier to tell when the male body is in the mood."
Hotch froze, breath caught in his throat. He tried clearing it as he turned away from his longtime friend.
"Excuse me." He muttered.
Back outside, you ran your hands over your scalp, heart racing still and an array of emotions spiralling within you.
"(L/n)!" Emily shouted, having caught up with you. Her eyes widened when she came to stand in front of you, eyes fixated on your neck and chest. "Oh wow, he really did a number on you, huh?"
You flushed, scowling at her and folding your arms.
"Shut it! Leave it alone." You snapped but she didn't back down, grinning widely at you.
"I bet that felt really nice, huh? You look absolutely frazzled."
"-There you are. Looking frazzled, are we?" Derek said as he exited the hotel lobby. You wished you had a jacket right about now. He chuckled when his eyes found the hickeys decorating your skin. "Damn! Didn't know boss-man had it in him!"
You scowled at the two of them as you hugged your arms closer around yourself.
"We did what we had to do for the job. Now leave it be."
"Come on now, I bet it was a dream come true for you, right?" The dark-skinned man pressed. Shame consumed you as your gaze dropped.
"Not his though." You said quietly.
"-I wouldn't say so."
The three of you turned to find Rossi approaching you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. Your eyes narrowed a little.
"What?"
The old man shrugged, hands in his pockets.
"Let's just say he's not here right now for a reason." Was all he said. Emily snorted at the same time as Derek hollering. And yet it did nothing to help you, your thoughts having already set themselves in your mind.
"It's probably involuntary. We were in a sex club and such for a while so.."
"Come on now, you know it's because of you." Emily retorted, but you were not convinced in the slightest.
"Let's just- we need to go back to the station to do the interrogation. The sooner we get that done the sooner I can get these damn shoes off."
You turned to find one of the FBI cars and began to walk towards it. You ignored the calls of your name, waiting desperately for one of the others to give in and drive back to the station with you. In the end, Rossi unlocked the vehicle and once again he drove you away to your salvation.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Thank you all for reading!! This one I kept getting carried away 😭 idk if it's that good but I hope you all enjoyed regardless! I wonder what will happen in the final part 😳😳
Taglist: @cr1minalskies @modern-mermaid @aaronhotchnersgirlfriend @aaronhotchswife @emptybagofchips77 @crimeshowjunkie @igotanidea @gogococopuffs @prentissesredtanktop @louderfortheback @howabouticallyou @lalalove-56 @abbyschmaby @constantwritingblock @boredelle @powerlvr25 @aad1993 @idkbubs (not sure why some don't work 😭)
#a writes#a's writing#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction#hotch x reader#smut#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x plus size reader#plus size!reader#plus size reader
820 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ooh are you still taking requests for Hotch? If so, I would like a smut fic with a plus size reader please! I always see stuff about how most fat people are self confident now, but that isn’t the case for me, maybe some reassurance from Aaron ? If you’re uncomfortable writing this or don’t want to, don’t worry about it!! 🤍🤍
hi gorgeous angel 🤍🤍
i hope i was able to deliver. i sprinkled a lot of smut because you deserve to be rewarded.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x plus size f!Reader
Words: 1.7k
CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni.
Tags/warnings: established relationship, self-concious/insecure plus size!reader, soft Aaron, a lot of reassurance, pet names (beautiful, gorgeous girl, darling), praise, oral (f receiving), basically Aaron eats you out to show you he's obsessed with you and your body.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
“No!” you screeched and he immediately stilled over you.
Your heart was racing, your ears were hot with shame, the confidence that had led you here, to his bedroom, to his bed where you currently laid, splayed on your back with his tight, broad frame pressed tightly over you, evaporating at the mere thought of light.
He had just leaned over you to turn his bedside table lamp on, to fill the room with soft light. He wanted to see you, wanted to get to witness every twitch, every shiver, everything he was about to make you feel.
He assessed the situation for a second, took in your heaving breaths which had turned from excited to terrified ones. He could make out the outline of your hands now fiddling uncomfortably with your fingernails.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” he asked, his hands slowly retreating from the lamp back to your body, to your hips where he gently began to draw circles.
“Can we…can we keep the light off?” you whispered, ashamed. “Please.”
You couldn’t see his face since the light from the hall was hitting his back in a low glow. But if you could’ve seen him, you would’ve caught the flash of sadness, of despair and hurt.
He immediately understood why you were feeling this way, and yet he couldn’t help but get incredibly angry that you were. Not at you, however, never at you. It wasn’t your fault you were feeling this way, it was the fault of whoever had made you believe that you weren’t beautiful, that you weren’t desirable, that your body wasn’t perfect.
“Darling,” he started, his voice soft and gentle, kind and understanding. “You have the body of a goddess,” you winced then, and it unfortunately confirmed all of his suspicions. He truly was good at his job. It was eerie how he could read you so easily, so quickly, with nothing more than a single sound. “Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve.”
Your mind was stunned into complete silence. The voice that had been screaming was now quiet. No one had ever spoken to you that way, with such sincerity and intensity that you couldn’t do anything but believe them, take them to heart, accept that he was telling you the truth.
He wanted you, desired you, found you irresistible, and who were you to deny him of what he wanted, who were you to deny your body what it craved.
You slowly nodded, breath hitching as you felt him shift again, this time the action emphasized by the click of the lamp turning on. Warmth enveloped the room, but you didn’t register it fully.
“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he purred. “Let me see you.”
You hadn’t realized you’d closed them until then. You took one more steadying breath, focusing all of your energy on his hands, on how warm they were against your hips, how they were gently and lovingly tracing circles over your love handles.
You opened your eyes slowly, white specks of light fluttering as his beautiful face came into focus above you. He smiled brightly and you swore you melted right into the mattress.
“There you are, gorgeous girl,” he praised. “You’re doing so good for me.”
You couldn’t help the blush that rose from your chest to your cheeks, a hot and adorable pink that matched the one on his.
It was almost overwhelming to think that you had this effect on him, you made him blush, you made him smile so brightly you were afraid the sun would stop working, you made his heart beat so fast against his chest you were afraid it would break through.
“I’m going to take off your pants, alright?” he asked gently, making sure to keep you comfortable as a priority, to take it at your pace, to go as slowly as you needed, even if all he wanted to do was jump you right then and there, bury himself so far inside of you that you forgot what you were even feeling self conscious about.
You nodded and his hands slowly slid down your body, delicate and soft, slowly and steady. He unbuttoned your pants, followed by the zipper, and then hooked his hands into the waistband.
He looked back at you before he even began to pull them off and you nodded again, biting down on your lip out of habit. He slowly pulled your pants down your legs, the eye contact never faltering.
You were feeling too much, the fire in your belly having spread to every part of your body. It was silly, silly to think that just by looking at you like you were the most beautiful person on the planet he could get you this hot and bothered.
You’d always thought he was out of your league, nothing more than an unattainable dream, a crush that would lead nowhere. You knew his type, the athletic, runs marathons for fun, only eats lean protein with mountains of steamed vegetables with no seasoning type. And yet Aaron had managed to surprise you at every corner.
He tossed your pants across the room, his hands now on your thighs. He ran them up and down like he’d done with your waist, diligently taking his time to feel, to commit every inch of your body to memory.
He slowly opened your legs for him, to allow him to press himself flush against your core. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and he grinned brightly in response.
“Can I eat you out, beautiful?” he murmured, the feeling of his hands, the feeling of his hot and hard erection pressed against your heat. You were practically panting, not really digesting his words fully.
You nodded, the simple thought of the burning ache between your legs getting relieved enough to make you forget exactly what he had to get you there. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your belly button, distracting, as his hands opened your legs further, parting them for him to settle into them comfortably.
He continued to trail kisses down your stomach, taking extra care of making it a point to linger, to hum and groan and make sure he was constantly letting you know just how much he’d been craving you.
He sank down to his knees then and the sight nearly took you out. Your head strained to stay upright, to try and see him, your eyes unable to look away from him.
But then he pressed his face against your clothed pussy, his nose practically rubbing over your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell back on the bed, hands wrapping themselves tightly around the duvet.
“You’re soaking, gorgeous girl,” he groaned, his thumb teasingly running down your clothed slit. You whimpered, the anticipation already making you lose it, which was exactly what he wanted.
He gingerly pulled your panties to the side, his eyes practically sparkling as he took in your glistening folds before him. He moaned then, not wasting another second before he dove in.
His lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking before his tongue began to lap circles over it. You moaned loudly at his actions, the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth spurring him on.
He ran his tongue down to your opening, teasing your hole before pressing it flatley against your slit and licking all the way back up to your clit. Your mind went blank at that, whatever thoughts remained, positive or negative, swiftly evaporating into the night.
He repeated the action a few more times, getting into a nice, steady rhythm. Your moans had gotten more chaotic, wild, free. Your body started to tremble, to move in tandem with his tongue, to seek it out to search for your own pleasure.
That’s when he pulled back, a needy whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact. He grinned, his tongue licking up the wetness around his lips before he swiftly sank two fingers inside of you.
And just like that your moans were back, filling his room with so much warmth it rivaled the heat from the lamp beside your head.
"So tight," he groaned as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them upwards inside of you to hit the spot he knew would make you come undone.
He leaned back down to press a kiss to your clit, the puffy nub looking incredibly lonely, almost begging to be given attention.
“You’re beautiful,” he stated. It was factual, matter-of-fact, veridical, never a question about it.
You sighed deeply, his words still sounding foreign to you, as if you knew them to be true and yet could not yet believe them in their entirety.
“Say it,” he ordered before his teeth bit down around your clit.
You practically screamed, the shock forcing you onto your forearms to see him, to see what he was doing to you.
“Say you’re beautiful,” he repeated the command as clearly as he could, tugging now, enough to make the pain just edge on the line to uncomfortable.
“Fuck, Aaron,” you whined, hands desperately trying to push him away by his shoulders. But he stood his ground, challenging. “I’m–I’m beautiful, I’m beautiful, I’m– gonna cum please–”
His teeth let go of your clit, the final jolt of electricity perfectly in tandem with a twist of his fingers inside of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from exploding, the tightness finally snapping, flooding your own body with more warmth than you knew what to do with.
Aaron dove right back in, his fingers sliding out as his tongue replaced them, sinking into you to feel your walls constrict, to feel your essence wash over him like a tidal wave. He lapped all of your juices up, his tongue skillfully working you through your orgasm.
You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even register anything other than the beating of your heart in your ears and the deliciously painful sting of overstimulation that was starting to take over as Aaron swallowed all you gave him.
After your breathing had calmed, your heart returned to a normal pace, your eyes focused on the room around you once more, Aaron stood himself up from between your legs, his even more pronounced erection pressing into you once more, as if to show you just how much harder you’d made him.
“Now, was that so hard?” he joked, a satisfied smile over his glossy lips.
"You have the body of a goddess. Please allow me to do right by Aphrodite and worship you like you deserve." will easily go down in history as once of the best lines of dialogue i will ever write.
now if y'all excuse me i need to go scream into my pillow.
tags: @xladyxdreamer, @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner blurb#show your fangs writes#show your fangs hotch blurbs#plus size!reader#Aaron Hotchner x plus size!reader
506 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok i know this is kinda weird request butttttt Aaron Hotchner x reader where aaron is meeting readers father for the first time and the father kinda threatens aaron and is not happy with their relationship and then aaron gets kind of insecure and reader comforts him
listen, i keep saying there's no such thing as a weird request with me!!
and thank you for requesting! 🩷
pairing: hotch x fem!reader
rating: e
warnings: reader has a brief panic attack, angry reader!dad, yelling, swear words, hotch being insecure and a cute idiot all rolled into one
"okay," aaron says, blowing out a breath. "how does this look?"
you turn from your spot in the ensuite bathroom where you're sitting perched on the counter as you do your make up. "you look good, babe. as always." you shoot him a scrunched up nose smile at him and he rolls his eyes playfully at you. he's wearing dark blue jeans and a collared black polo shirt, nothing too fancy - something he would usually wear when he takes you to dinner. he nervously fidgets with his watch as he paces the bedroom.
you finish the final touches on your make up and slide off the counter to look at yourself from a distance in the mirror. your going to your father's house for dinner so he can meet aaron, so you don't have to look perfect, but it is the first time you're seeing your dad in about two years, so you kinda wanna look presentable. you turn your body to make sure you don't have a water or make up stain on your black dress.
"i've never seen you so anxious before," you tell him. he looks at you with wide eyes. "i'm fine." you huff a laugh through your nose. you might not be a profiler like him, but you can definitely tell when he's not acting like his normal self. and he's definitely not acting like his calm and collected normal self.
you walk over to him and place the palms of your hands on his chest. "he's going to love you." you smooth your hands up and fix his collar and then bounce up on your toes to kiss him on the lips.
he doesn't say anything to that, instead he just walks into the closet to put his shoes on. after a few minutes he reappears. "okay. how are you not nervous?"
you grin at him as you slide past him to get into the closet for your own shoes, and he quickly stops you with an arm across your stomach.
"you haven't seen the guy in nearly two years, and i know things didn't end...well...between you. are you sure you're going to be okay?" he uses his arm to pull you towards him so that you're standing in front of him. he lets his hand fall to the back of your hip and squeezes.
"i'll be okay. he insists everything is fine and forgiven, so i have to trust that. thank you for asking though."
he sucks in a deep breath through his nose and then leans down to meet your lips in a soft kiss.
-----
it isn't until your sitting in the car right outside of your father's house that you actually start to feel a little nervous. the anxiety is slowly simmering in your stomach and you can feel the heat of it rising up into your chest. you suck in a deep breath, close your eyes and will it all away. everything will be fine.
you catch aaron studying you out of your peripheral vision, but thankfully he doesn't ask if you're okay, because if he did...in that moment, you probably would have told him to take you home.
instead he turns to fully look at you, waiting for you to take the lead. when you don't, he lets himself out of the car and walks over to the passenger side and opens it, offering his hand to you.
you take it and stand, smoothing out any wrinkles in your dress. he closes the door behind you as he looks up to the house.
"we can get back in the car and go, honey. he'll never know-"
and as if on que, your father opens the front door and waves to you both. you both crack a fake smile and wave back. "ah, you weren't quick enough." he says in a whisper. you laugh.
----
it hasn't even been ten minutes inside the house with your father when you angrily slam the dining room chair you'd just been sitting in back under the table.
"you have NO fucking right, dad-"
"i have EVERY fucking right-"
your face is hot, your lungs feel like they're going to combust and you'd probably cry if the rage taking over your body wasn't holding every other emotion hostage.
aaron has an arm around you stomach holding you back. he's trying to talk over the yelling but you have no idea what he's saying, despite the fact that he's directly behind you.
"ENOUGH!" aaron booms. it startles you back into his chest and he grips you a little tighter. both you and your father fall silent.
"it was very kind of you to invite us for dinner," you hear him start, his voice is strong and firm - you can tell he's beyond upset. "and i'm sorry for whatever feelings you have about our relationship. but we're adults, sir, and i love your daughter and i'm not going to just leave her because you can't get past that i'm older than her."
the older man rolls his eyes and throws a glass salt shaker at the wall, barely missing both of your bodies. "get the fuck out of my house."
and so you do. you both hurriedly take off, aaron right behind you as you fling the front door open so hard you think for a split second it might actually fall off the hinges.
you clamor into the car and immediately drop your head into your lap, the monster anxiety attack that was simmering before you even got here now reaching the surface and boiling over. you hear aaron get in on the driver side, his hand immediately finding its way to your back rubbing soothing circles. he doesn't start the car even though he wants to drive as fast as possible out of here, but he needs to make sure you're okay before he can even think about navigating a motor vehicle.
"breathe, honey. it's okay. it's over and done with. we're going to go home and figure it out." his voice is low and soothing and makes you cry more.
you sober after a moment, tears still sitting in your eyes but don't spill over. you sniffle, clear your throat and shake your head, as if your body is an emotional etch-a-sketch that you're trying to clear. you huff out an angry sigh and put your seat belt on. "i'm okay, lets just go."
-----
its only when you walk through the front door of your apartment that you realize just how exhausted you are. the inevitable crash of crying hitting you hard. you toe your heels off at the door, not even bothering to pick them up and carry them with you back to the closet. neither of you say anything as you both make your way back to the bedroom and undress. it's not even 8 pm and you're ready to sleep for the next 3 days.
once you're in bed, you immediately crawl into aaron's waiting arms. you lay half on him on your stomach, your leg thrown in between his and rest your head on his shoulder. he's shirtless and warm and you snuggle and sigh into his neck as you finally try to process the events of the evening.
"are you okay?" you ask him.
"i'm fine," he tells you. "i was just worried about you. that was pretty intense."
you hum, a tinge of guilt hitting you. you didn't exactly tell him your father was an angry man, always looking to belittle and control you. for some reason, you thought that after 2 years of not seeing him, maybe he wouldn't blow a gasket. lesson learned.
"i'm sorry," you say. "i thought he'd behave better with you there."
he doesn't say anything else and you have to stop the tears from coming again.
"do..." he clears his throat. "do you...does the age difference between us bother you?"
your head pops up off his chest so quickly. you stare him in the eyes, the street lamp outside the window lighting up the room enough to see his sad face.
"please don't let him get to you, baby. he's always been mean and controlling that way, and he only said that to get under my skin."
"well..." he sighs. "did it get under your skin?"
"have i ever done or said anything to indicate that i'm worried about our age difference?" you take his face in your right hand and make him face you. "aaron."
he shakes his head no. "okay. you're just letting him into your head. you're not even that much older than me. 32 and 45 is not that bad, i promise. it's not like i'm 19 and you're 60." he cracks a smile at that.
with his face still in your hand, you use it to guide his lips to yours and then you move to kiss all over his face, leaving loud wet kissing sounds as you go.
he laughs, craning his neck to get away from you. "okay, okayokayokay-"
"if anything about our relationship ever bothers me, you know i'll always talk to you about it. okay? i promise." you kiss him again.
he nods his head. "i know."
a moment of silence passes before you talk again.
"so... you wanna roleplay? can you be my hot older grey haired professor and i can be your bratty little student." you wiggle your eyebrows at him.
he groans your name laughing and pushes you off of him, you slide off his shirtless body in your own laughter.
"i do not have grey hair yet."
"you have a grey eyelash! you also have gre-"
you don't even get to finish your sentence because he's wacked you in the face with one of the extra pillows on the bed, still laughing and telling you to go to sleep.
#fic request#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#hotch x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner fanfic#*mine#*reader#this has been sitting in my drafts for so long im sorry#i dont like how it came out and i also just didnt want to rewrite it so 🤷♀️
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐑
— summary: you're a temptation all on your own, but how does your professor react when you show up to a meeting in a pretty summer dress?
— pairing: professor!hotch x female reader
— content: basically straight porn; aaron is extremely horny for reader; age gap (reader's age is not specified, but the dynamic implies it); established sexual relationship; forbidden sex/relationship; fem receiving oral; unprotected p in v (don't be like them); cream pie; no use of y/n [4.0k words]
— author's note: i've been rereading this and editing it like crazy over the last week bc i'm so rusty with writing & i wanted to be happy with the final result and i think i am?? who knows. anyway, thank you to @spacecowboyhotch for beta'ing this for me and making me feel better about it. and thank you to those who showed their interest in this fic, your enthusiasm has helped with my confidence tremendously <3
navigation . masterlist
College is both fulfilling and really confusing.
Confusing in the sense that you often wondered if you were pursuing the right degree.
How can anyone ever know for sure what they want to do for the rest of their life? Is there even a way to know? People change and so do their interests, but asking yourself that question had made your head hurt and stressed you out more than was healthy, so you stopped.
Now, you're only two semesters away from getting your Bachelor's and you've never been more sure of a decision in your life.
Admittedly, this revelation had nothing to do with the fact that you enjoy learning about forensics and how the human mind works, and everything to do with who is teaching you those things.
Professor Hotchner was your criminal psychology professor and was insanely handsome, middle aged, tall, broad, soft spoken—pretty much everything you found attractive in a man.
Your choice to sit in the front row and directly in front of the podium was a spur of the moment decision, but had given him a perfect and unobstructed view of you. He had caught you staring at him on several occasions because of it, and he's sure you've caught him a few times, too.
He just couldn't help himself. The way you looked at him with your pen between your teeth, however innocently, caused inappropriate images to run through his mind daily. Frequently getting lost in his own daydreams of you, imagining what you'd smell like, how your skin would feel beneath his hands. You were the first person he'd seek out, a thrill of excitement rippling up his spine when he saw you already looking at him.
You had become the primary source of his fantasies, nobody else even coming close to you. Your face and body was the one he thought of when he needed release, and it worked every single time.
It made him feel dirty and shameful, but it wasn't enough to get him to stop.
Still, Professor Hotchner would feel a heavy lump form in his throat when you'd stay after the lecture was over, waiting patiently for the rest of your peers to leave before asking him a question. Nervous you somehow knew of his filthy secret because you were always so shy face to face, rarely ever making eye contact with him.
But the profiler in him knew different. You were attracted to him, even if he struggled to understand why, your body language said everything you didn't. Still, it was purely speculation, and the insecure side of him was convinced it was his delusions playing a trick on him.
It wasn't till you scheduled a one-on-one meeting that he received absolute confirmation of his suspicions.
You hadn't gone out of your way to dress more provocatively, which some students have done in the past for a better grade, but you had a new air of confidence he hadn't seen from you before. You were the one to make eye contact first, maintaining it when his brown eyes stared back into yours, challenging you to look away.
Then, you took him completely by surprise.
"Profile me," you had said.
He thought you were joking, hadn't had a student ask him that unless they were skeptical of profiling, but he could tell that wasn't what this was.
So, he gave you exactly what you wanted.
Everything he ever noticed about you, he said, and he couldn't get enough of the way your eyes watched him intently while he did.
It intimidated you, being perceived that greatly by a man like him, but you still relished it. Knowing he chose to pay attention to you in a room full of people, taking the time to learn all those things about you without an incentive, it made you feel powerful.
After that day, you had scheduled more meetings—an excuse to spend more time with him. He didn't mind it, and would take any chance he could to see you on a more personal level. Although, he always kept these meetings strictly what they were meant to be: you getting extra academic help, something that was available to all of his students.
While you were clearly his favorite, he refused to show you favoritism. He expected the same out of you as he did everyone else, and you appreciated that. You didn't want special treatment just because you flirted with each other. That's not why you flirted with him to begin with.
You were genuinely interested, and you didn't want him to question that.
Eventually, however, your relationship had turned sexual. You had kissed him first, when you took a break together after working side by side in his office for a couple hours, grabbing coffee from the nearest coffee shop. His hand pulling you closer by your waist when another man walked in was purely instinct, not to claim possession over you, he's seen what this world is capable of first-hand.
Regardless of his intentions, his touch had awakened something in you, something that made you stand on your toes and kiss him.
It was sudden, unexpected, but absolutely welcomed. Your lips tasted sugary sweet, mixing deliciously with the lingering bitterness on his, and he couldn't stop himself there. He had taken you home after that, worshiping your body like he always dreamed, and fucked you senseless till both of your needs were satiated.
It happened several times after that, always off campus, and Professor Hotchner—now Aaron, which he had insisted you call him when you were alone—had intended to keep it that way. Establishing a no-sex-in-his-office rule for himself to strictly follow.
However, your respective schedules had made seeing each other outside of lecture impossible recently, and he was aching for you.
And the outfit you currently had on only made it worse.
It was different from what you were wearing during the lecture earlier that morning, catching him entirely off guard. The t-shirt and jeans you originally wore had been traded for a sundress that was short enough to tease him, awakening the intense hunger he felt for you.
In your defense, it was midsummer in Virginia, which meant that it felt suffocatingly hot outside.
Even he had exchanged his typical suit and tie for something more manageable in the heat, removing the tie and jacket from his wardrobe for the time being. It seems you had made the proper adjustments to your attire as well.
The only problem is, it was at his expense.
Your dress accentuated every part of your body he loves, the ones he thinks about regularly. He couldn't help but look, his eyes drifting over your figure as you walk into his office.
"This isn't what you were wearing this morning," he notes as you greet him with a brief kiss, like always.
You look down at your outfit, pulling at the hem slightly, shrugging.
"It wasn't as hot this morning."
Aaron hums, feeling your heart thump a little faster against his fingertips as he slowly traces them along the neckline of your dress, admiring the way it fits you. It's gentle and teasing and you do your best to not let it get to you.
"Well, I like it. It looks beautiful on you," he compliments.
"Thank you."
Your voice is soft, and a little bashful; you've never been good at accepting his compliments but you do your best and that's what matters most to him. He wants to be able to tell you what he thinks and you believe him, not brush it off like he's saying it just to say it.
He brings you in for another kiss, not fully satisfied with the one you'd given him before. One of his large hands caresses the back of your neck, your breath shallow as he tugs you closer by your waist. His tongue swipes over your lips, groaning into your mouth when you let him in. It's tender and loving, and way too passionate for the office.
Remembering his rule, Aaron pulls back, and places one last kiss on your cheek before distancing himself.
"In your email you said you aren't confident about the final," he says, changing the subject. "Remind me what's giving you trouble."
The kiss leaves you wanting, mind foggy as you try to make sense of his words and what just happened. He rounds his desk as you gather your thoughts, an amused expression on his face when your brows furrow, an indication that you're struggling to think clearly.
"Yeah I uh, I still don't fully understand structuralism," you finally manage.
"Okay, tell me what you do understand."
Aaron gestures for you to join him on the loveseat in the corner of the room, bringing his laptop with him. You trail behind, setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your textbook. Your dress rides up further when you sit down, exposing more of you to him, and he has to force himself to look away before he takes this meeting to an entirely different direction.
There's a tab sticking out of the pages that you use to make finding the right one you're looking for easier.
Scribbled down words adorn the margins of the textbook, different colored gel pens indicating certain details of your notes that he can't even begin to decipher.
As you begin explaining the topic to the best of your ability, Aaron listens, wanting to give you his full attention. The more you go on, the more he determines that you are overthinking it and second guessing yourself. You understand the material fine, better than he anticipated, even.
He merely scratched the surface during lectures, the topic not something that needs to be discussed in detail in this particular class, but you're thorough—he's come to learn that's a characteristic you possess in all aspects, especially the ones he tends to benefit from.
Still, he lets you continue because he loves hearing you talk, and gradually moves closer, the appropriate and respectable distance between you becoming smaller and smaller.
You waver a few times, but he signals you to keep going.
He simply wanted to be closer; didn't have any ulterior motive. It's easier to touch you from this distance, to lean in and press a chaste kiss to your cheek because he can. It's easier to admire you up close, where he can brush his finger along your jaw while he tells you how beautiful you are.
It's nothing new. Aaron's love language has always been words of affirmation and physical touch, not that you've gotten to the point that you're ready for love confessions, but it's how he expresses his attraction towards you.
However, when a draft in the room gives him a hint of your perfume, everything changes.
His touch is more determined now, intentions set on getting you out of that goddamn dress. One of his hands makes its way to your shoulder, brushing away the hair that covers your neck. He leans in, placing firm kisses along your jaw before drifting down to your pulse point.
You fumble over your words again, his lips soft and perfect and very distracting.
"Sweetheart," Aaron murmurs when you don't continue, the words muffled against your skin, "I don't remember saying you could stop."
His tone is businesslike, a stark contrast to the very unprofessional things he's currently doing to you. You suck in a breath when his hand skates over your thighs, your head instinctively titling to the side to give him better access.
"I can't concentrate," you pout.
"Then just relax and focus on me."
"But—"
Aaron nudges your jaw and captures your lips in a messy kiss, his large fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as he speaks. "You're stressing yourself out, my love. You understand the material fine. Will you let me dote on you for a moment? I've missed you."
You nod, letting out a soft moan when he retreats back to your neck, teeth and tongue working together to suck a mark into your skin. It feels so good that you forget to speak, a sharp squeeze of his hand on your thigh reminding you that he always expects a verbal response.
"I missed you too, but... what if someone hears us?"
He smiles, pleased that you know him so well. The way he's touching and kissing you is a clear indication of his end goal, and he loves that you know it.
"I suppose we'll just have to be quiet, then."
You take a shaky breath when he takes the textbook from your grasp and sets it aside before moving his hand to the seam of your thighs, a request for access. A satisfied hum leaves his lips when you open them without hesitating, and trails his fingers along the inner skin.
His touch is affectionate, not at all rough or taking, and it turns you on like crazy.
"My perfect girl," he murmurs to himself.
The praise and his voice makes you ache for him even more, and his eyes zero in on the tiny wet patch that begins forming on your panties. His mouth waters at the thought of how delectable you're going to taste when he finally gets his tongue on you.
Carefully, Aaron moves off the loveseat, kissing his way down your body as he gets settled on his knees. He pulls you closer to his face and your dress scrunches up around your waist at the action. The deep breath he takes is slow and mere inches from your barely clothed cunt, his broad and rough hands smoothing over the backs of your thighs.
"You smell incredible," he sighs, content with being in this position. "Can I, baby?"
While getting your consent every time is extremely important to Aaron, you know he's not actually asking for your permission. He already knows that you want him, but it's more to hear you beg for it. With the desperate state he's got you in, you easily give him what he wants.
"Please," you whisper. "I wanna feel you, Aaron. Please."
One of his fingers grazes your pussy as he pulls your panties to the side and out of his way, revealing you to him, the cold air in his office sending a chill up your spine.
"You sound so pretty when you beg, but you gotta be quiet for me now, okay?"
The second your meek "yes, sir" hits his ears, his mouth is on you and your back arches at the contact, a heavy groan resounding through him at his first taste of you in weeks. The warm sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds is more than enough to make your body go alight in an instant, your fingers grasping at the loveseat.
You try to watch him as he works, propping yourself up on your elbows as your jaw goes slack and your eyes threaten to shut with how fucking incredible it feels. He's good at this. So good that it's difficult to suppress a loud moan that creeps out your throat, the sound echoing throughout the room.
All he does is look at you, mouth still attached to your pussy, and you murmur a quiet "sorry" in such a pathetic tone it makes his cock twitch.
Aaron readjusts himself to get a better angle, arms circling your legs to keep you in place. He spreads your folds with his fingers to give him the space to focus his tongue on your clit, teeth occasionally coming out from behind his lips to nip at the sensitive bud. You writhe from the pleasure it brings you, your legs threatening to close around his ears and keep him there forever, and he wishes you would.
He'd live happily if he could drink in your taste every waking moment and feel the way your body shivers in response to each of his actions.
"Aaron," you whimper, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
He hums in response, and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, the vibration stimulating you further.
He slips a finger into you easily; the mixture of your slick and his spit giving him no resistance, so he adds another, curling the digits once he's knuckle deep and grazing a spot in you that has you grinding against his face.
"Oh, fuck," you mewl, one of your hands finding its way to his head, determined to keep him right there.
You can feel the mess you're making—of yourself, of him and the loveseat. Aaron knows he'll never be able to be in this room again without thinking of this moment, of you spread out and at his mercy, hips rolling eagerly to find your climax.
He uses his free hand to palm himself, the ache in his pants nearing unbearably painful.
"Gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, but I need you to come first," he encourages.
And the encouragement works like a damn charm.
The coil in your belly is tight, each delicious swirl of his tongue and thrust of his fingers tightens it further. Your body is trembling, legs shaking as you feel like you're about to erupt. He groans into you again, and your toes curl, the hand in his hair tugging and pulling as the power of your orgasm makes you squirm in his hold. Heavy pants leave your lungs, your bottom lip swollen from how hard your teeth have been digging into the flesh to keep yourself quiet.
Aaron keeps pumping his fingers into you till he feels your walls relax.
Once he does, he backs away only enough to get his belt unbuckled and his fly unzipped. He strokes himself to give you time to catch your breath, the friction providing him with enough relief that he can manage to wait for a little longer.
However, you have different plans.
"I need you inside me, please," you beg, and fuck if that sentence isn't the prettiest thing he's ever heard.
The desire in your eyes makes his heart pound wildly against his sternum—how you make him feel is dangerous. The carnal need and desire he has for you overpowers everything, and both hates it and loves it.
Hates it because it consumes him, loves it because it's you.
"How do you want me?" you ask impatiently.
Aaron gets off the ground, attempts to, anyway. His knees are not as young as they used to be, and you can't help but laugh at the face he makes when he struggles.
"Don't be a brat."
He sits down beside you and pats his lap, and you're quick to seat yourself exactly there despite your wobbly legs.
Before doing anything else, you lean into him, pressing the sweetest kisses you can muster to his lips. You can taste yourself on him and you moan into his mouth because of it. His hands smooth over your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pushes his hips into yours.
"I love it when you're on top of me like this," he groans.
Your head tilts back, and your mind had been so foggy from pleasure up to this point that you'd forgotten where you were, awareness suddenly coming back to you. Aaron turns your face back to him by your chin when you start looking around, eyes widening when they land on the door.
"Hey, focus on me."
"But—"
He doesn't give you the time to panic and guides himself into you, the breach sudden and breathtaking, filling you completely. You have no choice but to sit flush against his lap, his broad and strong thighs giving you all the support you need.
"It's locked," Aaron assures you, referring to the door. "I locked it when you got here just in case."
You huff a laugh, breathy and tired. "So, this was premeditated?"
"It always is," he grins.
Slowly, you begin to work your hips, after gaining the needed strength to ride him the way he likes. You falter a couple times, a little weak and uncoordinated, but he's there to help you regain your pace, the two of you working effortlessly together.
You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him carelessly. He teases you by pulling away, smiling at the pout you give him.
It feels oddly intimate and sweet considering that you're both almost completely clothed and fucking on a slightly uncomfortable couch with the possibility of someone knocking on the door at any moment. You know he'd just ignore them, but the sound of your skin hitting his every time you slam down on him and the mingling of your heavy breaths isn't exactly quiet.
Neither of you cares, though, Aaron least of all. Touching himself to the thought of you for the last couple weeks had been good and effective, but not nearly as good as the real thing.
You're so warm and tight, your walls hugging his cock like you were made for him, and part of him is convinced you were. It feels like heaven, and he cherishes it, slipping the straps of your dress down your arms to reveal your bare chest. He groans at the sight and cups your breasts in his hands, thumbs rubbing over your nipples as you continue moving over him.
Everything feels so good that you can't even kiss him back anymore, breathing heavily against his mouth instead. Your legs feel fatigued and they begin to tremble again, whether it's from pleasure or exhaustion, you aren't sure.
"I’m getting close," Aaron warns, his voice taut and rough.
You nod, the coil in your belly forming for the second time. He begins matching your movements, thrusting up as gravity brings you down.
"Oh my— fuck," you gasp, feeling him so deep it takes your breath away.
You come in tandem, your orgasm causing you to squeeze him so tight he can't stop himself from letting go. The groans that come out of his mouth are debauched and loud, and he buries his face into your neck to subdue them. It makes you pulse around his cock, pulling out more of his warm spend.
It's soothing, and you swear you've never experienced anything this sexy in your life.
Your body slumps into his, limbs heavy and tired, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. Aaron rolls his hips a few times, trying to prolong his blissful high. It overstimulates you, and he whispers his apology against the crown of your head, his lips finding their resting place there.
"I can't believe we just had sex in your office," you say after a while.
He laughs, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. "We weren't ever supposed to, but you looked so beautiful today, I couldn't help myself."
"Hmm," you hum skeptically, "what does that say about how I look every other day?"
Aaron huffs. "Absolutely nothing. It's just been too long since I've had you like this, anything would've gotten me this hard for you."
Your face heats up at his honesty, even the mildest of dirty talk still too much for you, especially where he is concerned. Anything that comes out of his mouth sounds sexy, because his voice fuels your libido like nothing else ever could.
It takes a while before either of you musters the strength to get up, exchanging tired kisses and gentle touches till you do. Your dress is wrinkled and so is his dress shirt, the crotch of his slacks damp and covered in the mixture of your juices and his release.
Luckily, he always keeps a spare change of clothes in his office. A habit born from his days as a profiler.
Unfortunately for you, however, you're stuck looking like an absolute mess.
Aaron does his best to help you straighten up, cleaning your thighs and smoothing out your dress before running his fingers through your hair carefully to somewhat brush it out. It's not the greatest but it does the job. The chime that comes from his phone interrupts him, a reminder of his next lecture and a signal that it's time for you to go.
He makes a mental note to turn on the diffuser and wipe down the couch when he returns.
You leave him with one last kiss, promising to do this again once the semester is over, when he isn't your professor anymore and neither of you has to worry about sneaking around.
It's a promise he hopes you keep.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner smut#professor!hotch#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#.writing
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hotch X plus size reader? I need some self-representation and don’t have enough energy to write myself yet.
a/n: anon, I got you! I threw in some insecurity/reassurance, because you said you wanted representation and if it’s not about that topic, I always try to angle my writing in a way that it fits for (women) of all body types and races..thank you for your request, I hope you like this!!
Aaron knew that something was wrong when you didn’t throw in commenting remarks while you were curled up by his side, you both slouching on the couch in the living room, watching The Nanny.
He didn’t say anything about it, he let you be, thought you might have just had an exhausting day at work and weren’t currently in the mood or condition to interact with anyone.
He knew those days.
Aaron knew, that if there was something obviously bothering you, you would tell him about it, you always did.
But when Cece and Niles started going at it on the TV screen, verbally slapping each other around without ever so much as raising a finger and even his mouth broke into a slight grin, and you still weren’t reacting to any of it, he wondered.
Without saying anything, Aaron reached for the remote and put the TV on mute. It was only when the continuous background noise suddenly stopped, that you looked up from where you had been intensely focused on fidgeting your fingers, and furrowed your eyebrows in question.
“Why did you turn off the sound?” You asked him, voice smaller than usual, although he was sure you thought you were great at concealing that something was bothering you.
Aaron signed and adjusted himself in-between the cushions. He made sure you stayed tucked into his side, though.
He nudged your head with his nose. “Tell me,” he murmured lowly, “what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and did your best to avoid his eyes.
“I fucking hate profilers, you know that?” You grumbled. Aaron’s chest shivered as he let out a quiet laugh.
“So,” His free hand grabbed for your chin and tilted it to focus on him, his thumb slowly smoothing out your eyebrows. “Tell me. You know I will listen.”
You sighed. Honestly, there was no point in denying it anymore. You knew how your boyfriend valued the subject of communication in your relationship, and also now that he knew that something was plaguing your thoughts, there was really no way to escape.
You had really thought you’d done a good job at hiding it, that something obviously had you troubled.
But apparently not well enough for Aaron.
You always asked yourself if his job was the reason why he was able to see through your facade that easy, or if your facade was simply that easy to see through.
“Look, it’s just-“ You picked up the habit of fidgeting your fingers again, “-I know I shouldn’t even think like that, because it’s childish, and stupid, and pathetic, and -“
“Hey, hey, hey.” Aaron pulled you closer into him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You hear me? Whatever you feel, it cannot be either of those things, because it is your feeling, and as such, it is valid. Do you understand me?”
You couldn’t do more than nod. The question of how you deserved someone as kind as him made the knot in your throat only grow tighter.
Your hands were much easier to look at than his face. You felt like a sinner confessing.
“It’s just that-“ You started, embarrassment and self-consciousness weighing heavy on your chest, “I’ve been thinking, for a while now. And when we go out, with your friends, and I see someone like Emily Prentiss, who could probably run a ten mile sprint right now if I asked her to, or JJ, who had a child and still looks like she could get hired by every second modeling agency, I-“
You blinked away tears, but even though the hot fluids didn’t run down your cheeks, the way your voice trembled and broke was enough evidence that they were there.
“And when I’m alone with my mind at night, or literally any time, I start to think about it, and I think, I never could be them. And I ask myself, why would you be here, and why would you stay with me, with someone like me, if you had women like them as an option? And I know that’s not fair to you, but even everytime I watch TV, I am reminded that I am not one of those stereotypically pretty women, and it just messes with me so, so much.”
Now, the tears were flowing. Big, salty drops were trickling down your cheeks, taking chunks of mascara down with them.
You didn’t care in that moment.
Aaron just held you closer.
It felt good, to cry, for the first time in a long time. It was cliché, but it felt relieving.
Aaron waited. He was good at doing that, and you appreciated it.
It took a short while for your sniffles to die down, and for you to shakily accept the tissue that your boyfriend was handing you, but you managed.
Aaron brushed a stray tear off your cheek and pressed a barely there kiss on the top of your head.
“Are you ready to listen to me, sweetheart?” He asked.
You took a deep breath.
“Because if you want to continue making points on how Hollywood makes biased casting choices, then I’m fine with that, too.”
You couldn’t help the shaky chuckle escaping your throat at his words.
When you didn’t make a move to say anything, your boyfriend slowly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and let his thumb trace soft patterns on where it rested on your shoulder.
"I want to reassure you that there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you have to worry about. Not when it comes to your appearance, my co-workers, women I see on the street, or, most importantly, my feelings for you."
You opened your mouth, but Aaron forestalled you.
"I know that you didn't mean to tell me you doubted me, but I want to tell you anyways. Y/N, what I want is to grow old with you. To spend every last minute of my day coming home to you, having you in my arms. Looks wither, and therefore would never be the reason for me to fall in love with you or perceive you as beautiful merely on them."
“Yes, but the way someone looks is the first way one notices about them, if they want to or not!”
Aaron shook his head.
“No, the first thing I noticed about you was that you ran into me and spilled brewing hot coffee all over my suit,” Aaron corrected you. “And then continued to pay the bill for my coffee for a whole month after that, even though I told you it was fine.”
You dipped your head in thought. It’s true, you had done that. Every time you’d come into the small coffee shop, the barista had already known to bill your coffee, and Aaron’s on top of it.
Until someday, you both walked in at the same time, together.
“Do you hear me?” Aaron continued, “I don’t mean to invalidate the way you feel, but I want you to understand, that, from me, you have nothing to worry about. Because, after a long day, or days, of work with Prentiss, and with JJ, it is you I come home to, and happily so. It is you who I will get down on my knee for at a beautiful, private beach on a day when it’s neither to warm nor to cold, because I know it is exactly what you want. It’s you who I want to fall asleep next to, and wake up next to again, and who I would skip a day of work for just so I could stay longer in bed with you. And I know I said looks don't matter to me, because don't get me wrong, they don't, but you are singlehandedly the most beautiful woman I have ever come across the entire time I have spent in this world. Now maybe call me biased, because I love you so much, but I don't care. Do you understand me?”
You craned your neck the slightest bit to look him in the eye, and his hey held so much sincerity and passion - for you - that you couldn’t do anything else than believe in what he said.
You sniffled slightly and nodded as an answer to him.
“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it,” Aaron said.
Another shaky nod. “I understand.”
“Good.” Aaron leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, and your muscles slumped together at the comfort and the exhaustion, and a sigh escapes from your mouth into his even as he broke away.
“Now please, come on.” Aaron stood up from the couch and rested his hand on your cheek, lips leaned in close to yours as he whispered, “Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” Another soft kiss.
“Until you believe me.”
—
“Here’s the file about the Colorado murders you wanted me to get you.” Without knocking, David Rossi strutted into Aaron Hotchner’s office, because it’s simply what he always did.
Aaron barely raised his head to shoot him a brief thanks as he dropped a beige folder on his desk.
Rossi was almost out the door, when Hotch spoke up again and stopped him.
“Dave, do you happen to know how far our authority range reaches?”
David Rossi stopped in his tracks, one eyebrow raised suspiciously at his friend’s odd question.
“I don’t think we’ll get the President to destroy his big, red button,” He responded, “But the answer to that question really depends on what you’re asking for.”
Hotch dipped his head slowly. “Well, let’s say, maybe … Hollywood?”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x plus size reader#requested#yourmomxx
340 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
willow-wispwolf
Willow’s Hyperfixation Station
chanyoelsears
kpop polls
arshluv
Arshad Ali Shaikh
blxnc
▲ † ▽