Thomas Gibson + Sports 🥵

6x24 - Supply & Demand

Hotch & Reid

9.14 : 200

can I request a hotchycakes blurb about how fucking gently he speaks to people, like, I personally tend to shut down if people are yelling at me and I think if Aaron noticed bau!reader sort of closing off when he’s yelling at the local PD or at Morgan or something he’d find a quiet moment just to check reader’s okay, and he’d be so so sorry for upsetting them and he would make it his life goal to be careful raising his voice. He might even take to shutting down other detectives or officers who are trying to yell at the team (like they always do y’know) and he would so calmly sit down and shut up them

if you had told yourself two years ago that ssa hotchner would be the kind of boss to speak to his subordinates with such a gentle tone, you’d laugh.

the unit chief was notorious for being a drill sergeant, hardass, and, some may even say a bully, which was why you were so cautious around him at all times, not wanting to feel his wrath.

however, he quickly changed your perception of him during your first few months with the team.

—

it had been a straightforward case, but the police force that you had been working with decided to disobey direct orders and leaked classified information to the press. this lead to aaron becoming furious with them, and he let them know — he was like a thunderstorm, coming down aggressive and loud.

you never liked yelling, whether it was directed at you, or anyone else — it would bring back memories you’d prefer to keep locked away.

whenever you’d hear somebody going off on anyone, you’d shut down, become quiet, trying to busy yourself, so you wouldn’t be next; aaron noticed.

he noticed how after, you wouldn’t meet his eyes out of fear, how you’d be afraid to even speak to him, on edge that he would snap at you.

so, he went to you, without anyone else around, and apologised — speaking so softly, that his deep voice was close to soothing you to sleep. since then, he vowed to himself to never yell, while you were in the room.

—

this meant that, however much he wanted to rip this pathetic excuse of a deputies head off, he wouldn’t.

“don’t shout at my agent, deputy.” he spat, towering over the shorter man.

internally, aaron was boiling over with rage. he could take the side remarks directed towards the team as a whole — at this point, it was normal. but, when someone purposefully decided to single out a member of his team, to berate them, while they struggled to defend themselves, he wouldn’t take it.

“i don’t need to remind you that my team and i were sent here to help you, not to cause unnecessary conflict.” aaron scowled. “i’m sure the sheriff wouldn’t approve of knowing what you like to do during your breaks.” he threatened, now rendering the deputy speechless. “if i see anything like this happening during the case again, i won’t hesitate to have you stripped of your badge and gun.”

when he stomped out of the room, aaron turned to face you, hard gaze shifting to one of fondness.

“are you okay?” he asked, standing infront of you.

“yeah.”

“you really shouldn’t let them get away with that stuff, you know. these guys always have issues with authority for some reason — it wouldn’t hurt to put them in their place, once in a while.” he smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

“i know.. but you learn to uh.. tune it out.” you added on, “plus, putting people in their place really isn’t my thing. that’s what i have you for.” you grinned at him, “you’ll always be here to stick up for me, right?”

“yeah. always.”

“thanks, hotch.” you leaned over, pressing your lips to his cheek.

This has me curling my toes rn… the belt off in his hand his hair everywhere… oh my god oh my god

was supposed to start working on my lab report but then zoology brain wouldn't shut up about corals and i had this really cute idea

new cshr dropped while i was doodling this, my life is a joke

greedy meme // hlvrai

cw: blood, mild (?) gore?, idk Gordon’s hand cut off I guess send tweet

“No,” Tony shakes his head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what!?” Peter demands, exasperated, “What is it that we cannot do?”

“This, us,” Tony sighs, “Kid, you have to understand. I’m not made for you. You’re meant to go out and find someone your own age, who doesn’t have drinking problems and isn’t mentally unstable. You deserve better than me, Pete.”

“I don’t want anything better, Tony,” Peter narrows his eyes, his chin jutting up, “There isn’t anyone better out there for me. I want you.”

“Kid–”

“Stop calling me that,” Peter growls, “I’m twenty-five fucking years old. I’m not that sixteen year old you met all those years ago. I’ve grown up and I know what I want. And I know what you want, too.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Peter,” Tony tells him sadly, “And you being twenty-five now doesn’t lessen our age gap.”

“Damn our age gap, then!” Peter cries. He reaches out for the older man’s hands and pulls him closer so that their faces are only inches apart. “Damn what anyone else has to say about us and damn what you think I want. Because I want you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Until you realize what a mistake that is,” Tony whispers. He grazes his thumb over Peter’s cheekbone and down to the corner of his lip. Peter shudders and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I think I do,” Peter smiles lightly, he takes a few steps closer and backs Tony into the wall. And then it all comes stumbling out, “You think I’m adorable when I’m mad. You want me but falsely believe you cannot have me. You feel overwhelmed that I exist.”

Tony blinks, his eyes searching Peter’s face, “What, are you reading my non-existent diary or something?”

Peter laughs breathily. “I know you don’t remember telling me those things. But drunk words <i>are</i> sober thoughts.”

With a deep swallow, Tony sighs, “You got me there, kid.”

“Tony, I said to stop calling me kid,” Peter practically whines.

“Force of habit,” Tony shrugs.

“Okay, then for now on you’ll be Mr. Stark again. I’ll add in a few sirs here and there, too. You know what, maybe I’ll even call you da–”

He’s cut off by an abrupt but welcome crash of the lips. Peter hums and instantly melts into it, his hands finding Tony’s defined biceps. He takes it one step further by pressing Tony closer to the wall and opening his mouth, welcoming the older man’s tongue. Tony seems hesitant at first but doesn’t take too long to start exploring Peter’s mouth as if it’s his last day on earth.

Heat races up and down Peter’s body and everything within him buzzes for more. More of Tony, more of them, together, as one. Involuntarily, his hips thrust into Tony’s, but the pleasure that follows isn’t anything he’d give up.

Tony pulls back just slightly, their foreheads pressed together, “Peter–”

“Shut up,” Peter demands through gritted teeth. He pulls Tony back into the kiss, and Tony lets him. Peter feels Tony’s hands travel down to the back of his thighs before he's suddenly hoisted up so that his legs are wrapped around Tony’s torso.

“Couch,” Peter pants between kisses. Tony obliges and walks him over to the couch, not breaking the kiss even as he sets Peter down onto his back.

Peter uses his legs to squeeze Tony in closer and his hands on the older man’s hips to guide them into steady thrusts. Tony and Peter’s moans are twisted together in a sort of harmony.

“God, kid, you’re perfect,” Tony gasps, “So beautiful. Breathtaking.”

Peter flips them over and Tony is sitting up with Peter on his lap. “Just for you, sir,” Peters smirks, satisfied when Tony’s entire body jerks in pleasure at the title, and dives in for more.