#cg!hotch

[kiddokitti]

cg!hotch and little!reid comfort piece :> im trying to get back into drawing and plan to make a lot more fandom agere art

[soulsea-art]

criminal minds age regressor nation.... behold....cg!hotchniss

emily's artfight page

hotch's artfight page

[littlespencereid]

Glitters and Sparkles and Garcia’s Lair

Content Warnings: Age regression (100% SFW), regression, soft caregiver/little dynamic with and without main caregiver, slow emotional processing, parental comfort, vulnerable Reid, comfort-heavy, cranky and bratty Little behavior, Regressing in public.

Universe Explanation: This AU is set a few months after Spencer Reid’s kidnapping by Tobias Hankel. In this universe, Spencer is an age regressor who uses his regression to cope with trauma and past addiction. At this point in time, everyone but Garcia knows about this ( THIS WILL CHANGE IN THIS ONE). Aaron Hotchner is not only Spencer’s caregiver during his Little time but also his adoptive father. In this timeline, Haley and Jack do not exist, and David Rossi has been part of the BAU from the beginning. Hotch and Rossi are not yet in a relationship, but Reid relentlessly teases his dad about his obvious crush.

Author’s Note: Today was destined to be a chaotic day..First, Aaron slept through his alarm, making him and Spencer wake up late. 

Second, Spencer woke up in that little, fine line of in-between headspaces. He had gone to bed while big, he was fine! It was rare that he instantly woke up little or in-between. But, to make matters worse, Aaron was so focused on getting himself and his son to work that he didn’t even notice it!

Now Spencer had to be the best actor he could be and pretend he was fully big! At work, of all places! He can do that..! Right..?

Glitters and Sparkles and Garcia’s Lair

Spencer trailed after Hotch like a baby duck that had taken a wrong turn on its way to the pond. His badge bounced lightly against his sweater vest, and he swore it sounded louder today. Too loud. Loud enough for everyone in the bullpen to hear the thump-thump-tattle-tale of not big enough today, not really.

He kept his eyes glued to the carpet, hoping that if he didn’t make eye contact with the world, the world wouldn’t notice he was two wrong blinks away from curling into someone’s lap.

Hotch strode ahead with the energy of a man speedrunning parenthood and federal leadership at the same time. He was raking fingers through his hair, muttering something about budget meetings and case files that were definitely, absolutely, irreversibly not where he left them.

Spencer tried to walk like a grown-up. Big steps. Regular arms. No swaying.

He failed.

By the time they reached Garcia’s office( Hotch said something about some files or something about…Net something security or…Meh, Spencer’s brain was way too marshmallow soft to remember), the rainbow glow spilling from her doorway tugged at him like a warm hand. The sparkles, the screens, the soft hum. It was like standing on the threshold of Candy Land with a warrant.

Garcia spotted them instantly, swinging around in her chair with a grin that carried its own glitter trail.

“Well, hello, my favorite dynamic duo! Come forth, come forth, bring me your administrative chaos so I may work my magic.”

Hotch sighed the sigh of a man clinging to sanity by a coffee-scented thread. “We need the network logs from last week. I didn’t get…” He paused, finally looking at Spencer. “Reid, you okay?”

Spencer jerked upright. “Me? Yes. I’m… perfecto. Optimal. Functioning at adult capacity. Nothing is… unusual.”

He said it all in one breath. On one foot. Because he had, without thinking, begun rocking.

Garcia’s eyes softened. She picked up her neon pink mug and leaned forward, studying him with forensic-level affection.

“Sweetie,” she said gently, voice dipped in honey and stardust, “why do you look like you’re three seconds away from teleporting directly under my desk for a nap?”

Spencer’s face flushed a shade of rose best described as embarrassed flop-sweat pink. He stared at the floor. The carpet was safe. Nonjudgmental. Carpet didn’t know anything.

Hotch finally, belatedly, put the puzzle pieces together. He knelt a little, tilting his head with that soft-dad concern he usually reserved for nights when Spencer’s hands trembled too hard to hold a mug.

“Spence,” he murmured, voice low and steady, “Hey, pumpkin, you’re feeling tiny right now?”

Spencer shook his head. Then nodded. Then shrugged in a tiny unhappy swirl, the kind that meant his words were stuck somewhere behind his ribs.

Garcia blinked. Twice. Then her jaw dropped.

“Oh my god… he’s little right now?!” she whispered, like she had been given access to the world’s rarest, most fragile secret. “Wait. Is he…? Is this a thing? A regular thing??”

Hotch hesitated. A heartbeat. Two. His expression flickered through guilt, protectiveness, worry, and the quiet resignation of a man who had absolutely, positively messed up this morning.

“Garcia,” he said, steady but soft, “can we talk? Privately.”

But Spencer tugged gently on his sleeve with a tiny, lost sound he probably didn’t realize escaped his throat.

He whispered, voice small and gravelly: “Dada… no close door.”

Garcia’s eyebrows flew into the stratosphere.

Hotch froze.

And Spencer’s ears turned so red he could have powered the entire Quantico grid on shame alone.

Garcia’s eyes darted from Spencer’s flushed face to Hotch’s frozen panic-parent stance. She raised both hands like someone approaching a startled forest creature.

“Hey, angel cakes,” she said softly, trimming her voice down to a feather. “No doors closed. No spooky vibes, okay? We don’t have to close the doors, I promise!”

Spencer peeked up at her from behind a curtain of hair, lower lip trembling in a traitorous little wobble.

Hotch’s stern profile melted into guilt soup.

“Spence, oh my baby,” he murmured, kneeling beside him. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve checked in with you before we left home. You didn’t have to push yourself like this.”

“I tried,” Spencer whispered, toes curling in his shoes. “‘M big. I was. Then… now I’m… not. And we’re at work. We’re at work, Dada.” His voice went tight and watery. “And everyone’s big here.”

Garcia’s heart practically performed a parkour routine in her chest.

“Oh, sugary doctor,” she breathed, stepping closer. “You don’t have to pretend with me, okay? If you need to be tiny and we are still in the office, then that’s exactly who you get to be in my lair. I can handle more than firewalls and federal drama.”

She walked towards Spencer, heels clicking softly like punctuation marks.

“Do you want to sit on my couch? It’s basically a stuffed animal pretending to be furniture.”

Spencer hesitated, head tipping in that floaty-not-quite-here way, then gave the tiniest nod. Hotch guided him gently over to the cushioned loveseat draped in lavender plush throws. Spencer sank into it like he’d been swallowed by a friendly cloud.

As soon as he was down, he curled up, tucking his knees to his chest. His shoulders started to tremble in the way that meant he wasn’t crying yet, but emotion was lining up like an orchestra tuning backstage.

Hotch sat beside him, hand steady on his back.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe. And you’re not in trouble, okay? You never will be, not for something like this.”

Spencer sniffed, a tiny squeaky hiccup. “Didn’t wanna be a problem.”

Garcia made a sound like absolutely not incarnate.

“Listen to me, starlight,” she said, placing a small sparkly stress ball into his hand, “you could not be a problem if you tried. You’d have to fill out a request form in triplicate. You’d need two references, a villain monologue, and a cape. You have none of those things.”

That got the tiniest, wobbliest giggle.

Hotch exhaled in relief.

Then, naturally, this was the precise moment Rossi walked by.

“Hey, Garcia,” he called, leaning in the doorway without looking up, “have you seen my—”

He looked up.

He saw Hotch sitting beside a curled-up Spencer on a lavender couch, Garcia crouched in front of them holding a glitter-stress-ball like a sacred artifact.

There was a very long, very loaded silence.

Rossi blinked. Twice. His expression flickered through confusion, recognition, dawning concern, and something suspiciously tender.

“…Should I get coffee,” he asked slowly, “or is this a ‘go away, Dave’ situation?”

Spencer squeaked and shoved his face into Hotch’s shoulder like a startled fawn.

Garcia slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle an oh no he’s adorable sound.

Hotch groaned very quietly into his palm. “Dave… not now.”

Rossi lifted both hands in surrender. “Copy that. I’ll be in the bullpen pretending I didn’t see anything except, maybe, the cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Hotch glared. Garcia sparkled. Spencer peeked out with one eye, a giggle leaving his lips.

“Go,” Hotch deadpanned.

Rossi winked at Spencer on the way out. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

As the door swung shut again, Garcia settled on the floor in front of them, crisscross applesauce, eyes warm.

“Alright, my loves,” she said gently. “What do you need? Juice? Snacks? Blankets? A Pacific Rim Jaeger to guard the door?”

Spencer sniffed. “…Block… the door? No close it!”

Hotch smiled softly. “I can do that.”

He stood, positioning himself by the entrance like a tall, suit-wearing force field.

Garcia grinned at Spencer. “See? Maximum safety settings activated.”

Spencer’s breathing slowed. His shoulders eased. His grip on the glitter-ball softened into comfort instead of panic.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“So… Want to tell us why we didn’t exactly have to explain to you this whole situation?” Hotch asked, still guarding the door, but his posture was more relaxed now as he watched his son play with the glittery ball in his hands.

Garcia smiled, giggling, “Sir, what exactly do you think I do when I have nothing to find for you guys? The internet is a vast place! You can learn a lot from it!”

Hotch just giggled and rolled his eyes. He may have found a good babysitter for when they are at work.

[captainhappyclaws]

More Halloween & little Reid! This time with papa Hotch <3

[kiankiwi]

May i request cg Bau x little reader Wo is like 1 or 2 in her headspace and want to be Held

Of course. I think I'm gonna do Hotch for this one if that's okay :)

Hotch was alone working in his office on paperwork while his sister took over watching you for him and kept an eye on you as you and her played together in the living room.

Hotch was zoned out working on his computer when he heard something knocking against his door. Hotch froze and listened intently to where the sound was. It wasn't like a regular knock, more like an open hand smack against the door. He heard the knocking again and decided to investigate.

When he opened it he found you sitting outside the door smiling up at him. You must've been trying to get his attention for him to play with you. "Oh hey there baby, did you crawl off on your own?" You babbled and reached your hands up to him, wanting to be held. "I can't play baby, I have to work, I'm so sorry." You whined again and crawled forward a bit, headbutting Hotch's legs. "Baby..." Hotch sighed.

Hotch's sister ran up to the pair. "I'm so sorry, I was making her bottle and she crawled away on me. Baby, what are you doing daddy has to work." You whined and bounced on your bum, pointing up at your daddy. "No! Want daddy!" You cried, just wanting to be held. "C'mon baby, I have a fresh bottle for you." Hotch's sister shook the bottle in her hand.

Hotch sighed and crouched down to your level and rubbed your back. "Baby, daddy's right here." You wobbled to your feet and stepped forward, leaning into Hotch to give him a hug. "Awww, you're so sweet baby." Hotch took the bottle from practically your aunt and shook it. "Here bubs, you want this?" You whined again, pushing it away feebly and held onto Hotch, crying again, wanting up. . "Okay okay." Hotch said softly as he picked you up.

You sighed content once your daddy was standing up straight and placed your head on his shoulder. "There," Hotch chuckled. "Is that better?" Hotch slowly walked over to his desk and adjusted you. "Now are you gonna yell at me if you sit with me?" You were instantly unhappy as soon as Hotch sat down and screeched and kicked out as he tried to sit you on his lap. "Oh wow, okay okay, grumpy pants." Hotch stood up again and all was right again. "Oh, okay, so you just want me to stand and hold you? You're not gonna let me get any work done huh?" You whined again in protest. "Alright okay, my work can wait, I'll hold you." Hotch patted your back and you finally took your bottle.

***

I'm back to writing now that I'm home! I hope you liked this :)

[lilveeblog]

little witch

cg!elle and little!jj

halloween adventures

2.5k words

It was around 5am when JJ woke up. She stretched in her bed and felt the cold autumn air on her feet. She giggled at the feeling before throwing off her duvet. It had been a long night and she felt refreshed and ready for the day. Too far in her headspace to even contemplate the time, she headed to the bathroom for her morning wee. Tucked under her arm was her new fvourite teddy - a present from Elle for being such a good girl recently. She managed to get 5 stars on her reward chart this week and complete all of her tasks 4 days in a row.

Forgetting to flush the toilet and wash her hands, JJ left the bathroom and waddled down the hall to her caregivers bedroom. Some nights, she and Elle slept in the same bed as girlfriends, when JJ was in her normal headspace but Jay liked having her own space and bed when small. Her small bed was full of teddies and blankets and fairy lights but Elle didn’t like sleeping with too much on her bed or any lights on so it worked well between the pair.

It was still dark outside but with the autumn creeping in and late mornings, JJ didn’t register that it might still be early. Instead, she jumped onto the empty side of the bed and leaned over Elle.

“Ma,” she mumbled, still not fully awake. “It mornin.” She poked Elle’s cheek and tried to lift up her eyelid but Elle groaned and rolled onto her side. JJ giggled as she was forced off her caregiver.

“Is that you peanut?” Elle asked groggily, barely opening her eyes.

“Ye Ma,” JJ yawned. “It mornin- got getss up.” Elle sighed and sat up a little. She saw how dark it was outside and knew it was not time to get up. Quickly checking her phone, she saw it was only ten past five and huffed before lying back down.

“Baby, it’s still too early,” she explained softly to a sleepy looking little.

“It not, I wake. It mornin now,” JJ whispered, shaking her head and holding back another yawn.

“No peanut. Come lie down with Ma,” elle sighed. She lifted up the covers and shivered at the cold. The heating hadn’t come on yet, making Elle even more sure it wasn’t time to get up. JJ whined and shook her head softly. Elle sighed and gave her a soft look.

“Sweetie it’s still early. I know you’re still sleepy, your eyes are tired. Come lie down, we can cuddle.”

JJ sighed and raised to her knees, “but Ma it halloween.”

“It is angel yeah, we can do things later for halloween but right now Ma needs some more sleep and so does her baby.” She sat up more and grabbed JJ’s waist before laying back down with her in her arms. JJ giggled as Elle manourved them both so they were covered up. Elle smiled and wrapped her arms around her girl tightly and instinctively, JJ cuddled in close to her caregiver.

“Now sleep peanut - you’ve got to be nice and energised for our fun later.”

The pair were up around 10. Elle felt a lot better after some more sleep and JJ looked better. Elle made breakfast, spooky ghost pancakes, and put on the TV for her girl. JJ sat in front of it, watching the halloween cartoon episodes and getting herself excited for the day. Elle had loads planned for her little one and was excited to start the day too.

“Pancakes are ready baby!” She shouted through the house. JJ got up from the floor and ran through to the kitchen. She practically jumped into her seat and Elle gave her a gentle glare, JJ looked down - she wasn’t allowed to run in the house.

“You know what I’m going to say,” Elle said softly. “No more okay? I know you’re excited but safety comes first.”

“Sorry Ma,” JJ muttered gently and Elle kissed her head and put the plate in front of her.

“Eat up now, then we can go get you ready!”

JJ was dressing up as a witch. She had a pink and black dress on with a witches hat, fingerless gloves and stripy tights.

“Don’t you look creepy,” Elle giggled at her little one as she wiggled her fingers.

“I so creepy Ma. I Evil witch,” JJ laughed, twirling and showing off her shoes.

“Evil? Oh no! Please don’t hurt me,” Elle faked pretending to be scared, putting her hands up in defence. JJ laughed loudly and shook her head. She moved closer to her caregiver who was sat on the bed and climbed into her lap. Elle smiled, holding JJ’s waist to make sure she was supported.

“I not gonna be evil to you ma,” JJ mumbled, completely wrapping herself around Elle.

“Oh? Why not? I thought you were evil,” Elle smiled at her sweet girl.

“Not to you because I oves you,” JJ smiled and snuggled into her caregiver. Elle smiled widely and held JJ closer to her - her little witch.

“I love you too baby.”

First stop of the day was JJ’s playgroup. They had a little halloween party planned for all the littles. Jay was excited but nervous.

“Ma,” she mumbled from the back of the car.

“Yes peanut?”

“Wha if none of de ittes like my costume or too cared of me?”

“They won’t be angel! You look cute!”

“No Ma I mean be scary!” JJ whined, flopping her head back.

“You’re meant to be a scary evil witch but you’re worried people will thinkk you’re too scary?” Elle chuckled at the little logic. JJ let out a meak nod.

“It’s okay sweetheart. I’m sure everyone will love your costume!” Elle smiled, trying to reassure her.

“Pomise?”

“I promise baby! It’s halloween, everyone will be dressed up.”

The party went well. JJ was nervous at first, clinging to Elle. She stayed holding her hand whilst they did drinks and snacks but Elle managed to encourage her to play the games on her own. Next stop was the store to pick up snacks for the work party.

“Ma you so silly, we gonna be late,” JJ whined as she was dragged around the shop.

“I know, I know. I was meant to get the snacks yesterday but I was busy,” Elle sighed, putting things into the cart aimlessly.

“Busy doin what? You at home allll day,” JJ laughed, knowing Elle was lying.

“Shush you, don’t be telling work that. I was busy looking after you anyway,” Elle smirked and poked JJ in the ribs.

“I no hard ook after, we could come shops!!”

“You go back to yesterday and think about us possibly going to the shops Jay. From what I can remember you were running around the house with no clothes on pretending to be a ghost that no one could see-”

JJ blushed and hid in Elle’s neck at that one. “No tell eveone.”

“Don’t tell everyone we’re late because I’m lazy then monkey!” They got to the checkouts and Elle put everything on the conveyor belt. JJ had snuck multiple things into the cart whilst they were going round the store - lots of sweets, donuts and even a new teddy and Elle saw them now.

“Jennifer,” she sighed and held it up.

“We no have time to put it back!” JJ said, quickly putting it on the til. Elle laughed and shook her head at the pure cheekiness but genius.

“Okay, best behviour. If you get too overwhelmed you have to tell me before it gets too much okay?” Elle said softly in the elevator up to the bullpen.

“Otay ma,” JJ said gently, wiggling her fingers. “I scary witch and I gon turn spencee into fog.”

“You do that peanut,” Elle laughed.

“You made it! I thought you weren’t coming,” Garcia said as they entered the bullpen. She was in some crazy superhero costume and JJ jumped up into her arms.

“We late cus Ma for-”

“We got stuck in traffic,” Elle interrupted, glaring at JJ. JJ giggled and covered her mouth.

Garcia laughed and turned to JJ and asked, “did she forget the snacks?” JJ laughed and nodded and put a finger to her lips.

Elle handed the bag of snacks to Garcia who began putting them out on the tables and Spencer came over to the pair. He was dressed as Frankenstein and a mask sat on his arm.

“Hi JJ! Are you a witch?” He asked the little one.

“Boil Boil toil trouble! Turn Spencer Frog!” JJ cheered, throwing her arms about and wiggling her fingers. Elle laughed and watched Spencer’s confused face.

“You have to ribbit,” Elle muttered to him, Spencer nodded and made a small, ribbit noise. JJ huffed and crossed her arms, not impressed. Hotch then came out of his top office, in his suit - not a costume in sight. Excited, JJ ran over to him.

“Oh theres my little witch!” Hotch laughed and gave her a side hug on the stairs.

“Your costume rubbish,” JJ huffed, looking him up and down. Elle laughed and nodded, agreeing with her little.

“What do you mean! I think I look like a very good FBI agent in this costume,” Hotch smirked. JJ groaned and threw up her arms.

“You cant be an agenttttt, thats your job!”

“Who said I cant be an agent, huh? The halloween police?” Hotch smirked, looking down slightly at JJ. He adored regressed JJ.

“Yeah, they did,” JJ sassed, crossing her arms.

“Well it’s a good job they aren’t here to arrest me, isn’t it?” Hotch laughed. JJ groaned and tugged at his arm. He laughed and hugged his girl properly.

Derek quickly came up behind Elle in a creepy halloween mask and jumped on her back. Elle screamed, jumping away before hitting him. JJ burst out laughing and pointed at her caregiver, scared of Derek.

“Oh be quiet you,” Elle teased. Derek was laughing too.

“God - you’re face was priceless Greenaway.”

“Shut up Morgan - what is your costume anyway?” Elle asked, looking him up and down.

“I am the famous, the magnificent, the incredible, Derek Morgan-” Derek said, taking a bow.

JJ groaned, turned around in Hotch’s arms. “You all terrible at costumes-”

“Oh yeah? What are you meant to be pretty girl?” Derek smirked, nodding at JJ.

“I a scary witch! Duh!” JJ sassed and everyone laughed.

“Sooooo scary,” Derek teased. JJ pouted but Spencer went up to derek, leaned in his ear and did a big, loud, very realistic frog noise. JJ creased over in happiness. She was the best witch.

Gideon’s costume was a wolf. He immerged from his office, head to toe in a fur outfit. JJ gasped, seeing it and runs up the stairs and down the hall.

“You a wolf!” She cheered at Gideon. Gideon bared his teeth quickly and raised his paws to the girl.

“All the better to eat you with!” He groaned. JJ squealed before running away back down the stairs, laughing.

The party was fun. They had music, made jokes and ate lots of food but Elle could tell all the socialising and the business of the day was getting to her girl. She hadn’t had her usual nap and Elle knew a sugar crash was on it’s way. However, JJ’s sugar crashes and tiredness meant mood swings, anger and tantrums. She was sat next to Hotch on the table next to his chair and they watched her together. She was spinning in her own chair, head up at the ceiling. Spencer was talking to her but she was hardly listening.

“I think it’s nearly home time,” Hotch whispered to Elle.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Elle agreed. JJ stopped her chair and looked at Spencer. She did her ‘spell’ again for the fifth time that night and Spencer’s shoulders dropped.

“No JJ, I don’t want to be a frog anymore. I’m telling you and Derek about Frankenstien,” he said. JJ huffed, stomped and crossed her arms.

“I a witch an I make you a frog! No wanna hear your silly words-” Elle took that as her cue to get up. Before Spencer could say anything else and cause an argument, Elle crouched down in front of her little one.

“Are you ready to go home and have a bath?”

“No I a witch an Spencer a bad frog!”

“He just doesn’t want to keep being a frog when he’s trying to talk to his friends.” Elle explained.

“No Ma!” JJ shouted. Elle put her hand up and JJ lowered her head. She knows she isn’t allowed to shout.

“Home time now, come on.” Elle said simply she stood up and Hotch handed her JJ’s jacket.

“Do we have to?” JJ whined, looking up at her caregiver with teary eyes.

“Yep. You’re tired, you’ve had way too much sugar and you shouted at Ma and you know that isn’t allowed. Jacket on please,” Elle held out the jacket and JJ slid her arms in sadly. Elle wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Say goodbye to everyone and we’ll go to the toilet before we go,” Elle said. JJ waved sadly at everyone and they all waved back.

“Bye Baby!” Garcia cheered and ran over to give her a cuddle and a kiss. “My super spooky witch, I loved seeing you today!” she whispered.

“I like see you too,” JJ replied sadly.

“Hey, turn that frown upside down. I’ll see you soon. Sleep well my little love.”

Elle swung their arms as they headed out the building to the car. JJ looked down with teary, tired eyes. As Elle opened the passenger door for her girl, JJ wrapped her arms tightly around Elle’s waist.

“Whoa princess, be careful,” Elle whispered but hugged her back.

“I sorry I shouted!” JJ began to sob. Elle felt awful.

“Hey peanut,” Elle whispered, shocked from the sudden outburst of tears. She knew JJ really was tired then. “It’s okay. Thank you for saying sorry but theres no need for all these tears.” She sat JJ on the seat of the car before leaning down in front of her. “Come on now baby, it’s okay.”

“I shouted and you mad,” JJ cried, rubbing hard at her eyes.

“I’m not mad. Do I look mad? I’m sorry you think that angel but I promise I’m not.”

“You make me go home,” JJ sobbed all over again.

“Darling you are so so tired. It’s been a long day and the party is over now anyway. You need to sleep.”

“I not tired,” JJ shook her head.

“You are baby girl. Ma is tired too. Let’s go home and we can sleep - okay?”

“Bath first?”

“Bath first with your spooky bathbomb yes.”

JJ was asleep five minutes into the ten minute drive. Elle tried to keep her awake but it was difficult whilst focusing on the wet roads in the dark. She carried JJ into the house and got her onto the sofa as she began to get her undressed.

“Bath morrow ma,” JJ yawned, still with her eyes closed.

“Good idea baby,” Elle smiled.

They settled down into Elle’s bed after JJ clung to her, still sad from her day. Elle was exhausted so fell asleep pretty fast with her girl curled up in her arms. It had been a great halloween.

[blackbirdwidow]

could literally talk about little!jj all day I mean can we start with how protective hotch is when it comes to her? like yes he’s protective of his whole team but there’s like a shift in his protectiveness when it comes to jj

she’s the youngest girl on the team, started at the bau at like 25-27 and was in the field. anyone who even looked the wrong way at jj would be dealt with hotch’s wrath alone 🥹

Heyyyy!! Than I you so much for the ask!!

Hotch is so protective of JJ no matter if she’s in little space or big space. We have seen how he is with her when she’s in big space and he already makes sure she’s always respected and loved.

Hotch when JJ is in little space completely turns into a protective and almost helicopter parent. He doesn’t want her leaving his side because he’s afraid of her getting hurt. He constantly makes sure she’s comfortable and if a single person even looks at JJ funny, they get the full angry Hotch outburst.

[littlespencereid]

The Aftermath of Bad Actions

Content Warnings: Age regression (100% SFW), soft caregiver/little dynamic, slow emotional processing, parental comfort, vulnerable and tired Reid, Angst-heavy, comfort-heavy, Hurt/Comfort, cranky and sleepy Little behavior, a little bit of a tantrum, non-sexual spanking as punishment.

Universe Explanation: This AU is set a few months after Spencer Reid’s kidnapping by Tobias Hankel. In this universe, Spencer is an age regressor who uses his regression to cope with trauma and past addiction. At this point in time, everyone but Garcia knows about this. Aaron Hotchner is not only Spencer’s caregiver during his Little time but also his adoptive father. In this timeline, Haley and Jack do not exist, and David Rossi has been part of the BAU from the beginning. Hotch and Rossi are not yet in a relationship, but Reid relentlessly teases his dad about his obvious crush.

Author’s Note: This takes place after the jet lands. The team separates and each go their way to their own home to rest. When Spencer woke up, it was like they teleported from the Jet to his own bed. Which meant… He would need to deal with the consequences of his own actions. Good thing that Aaron was só soft hearted that, right after punishments, he would spoil the baby rotten with cuddles, a warm bath, bed time stories, etc ect… ( Continue of "A Very Long Jet Trip Back". Continuation was not requested, but main idea was requested by @robyn-on-hellsite )

The Aftermath of Bad Actions 

Spencer woke up to the slow unfurl of evening light slipping through his bedroom curtains — warm gold spilling across the blankets like someone had poured sunshine directly onto him. His pacifier bobbed lazily in his mouth as he blinked, small and confused, the edges of the world soft and blurry.

One second he had been on the jet, curled into Hotch’s chest, paci between his lips and blanket tucked under his chin.

Now he was home.

And he slept a whole day away.

He was safe.

Warm.

Safe.

And tucked into his own bed like a sleepy kitten.

He blinked harder, trying to gather thoughts that didn’t want to connect. Everything felt cottony and slow. His limbs were heavy and soft. His brain was even softer. One-year-old soft.

A sleepy whimper puffed past the pacifier as he stretched — and immediately, instantly, knew something was off.

Hotch wasn’t in bed with him.

He wasn’t in the doorway.

He wasn’t within arm’s reach.

Spencer lifted his hands, tiny and trembling, fingers opening and closing in a little grabby motion.

“D…da?” he squeaked.

The sound was small, a tiny broken chirp. And he startled himself with it. His lip wobbled. Panic bubbled fast. Too fast.

And as if on cue, the door opened.

Hotch stepped in.

And Spencer melted — spine softening, shoulders dropping, breath leaving him in a relieved flutter.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Hotch said gently. His voice came warm and steady, carrying a soft strength that seemed to fold the whole room in half.

Spencer reached for him with both arms, hands making urgent little grabbing motions.

“Up,” he whined around the pacifier, legs kicking under the blanket.

Hotch walked to the bed, brushing Spencer’s hair back from his forehead. “I’ll pick you up,” he promised, “but we need to talk first.”

The words hit like a gust of cold wind.

Spencer froze.

His breath caught.

And memories trickled back — fuzzy, distorted, but enough:

The tantrum. The foot stomping. The yelling. The swearing. Hotch’s voice: We will be addressing that at home.

Spencer let out a soft, frightened squeak, paci falling from his lips onto his blanket.

“Da…” His head shook in tiny jerks, tears forming instantly. “No… no wan’… no talk…” He pawed weakly at the blanket as if he could hide under it.

Hotch sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly. His voice dropped lower. Calm. Grounded.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head stubbornly. “Nooo…” His voice came out thin and wobbly. “Good… ‘m good baby… no bad… no wan’ punishment…”

Hotch placed a hand on his back. Warm. Wide. Immovable.

“You’re not a bad baby,” Hotch said softly. “You had a very, very hard day. But you still behaved in ways you know aren’t okay. And we talked about this, sweetheart. Actions have consequences.”

Spencer’s face crumpled.

He turned and buried it in Hotch’s thigh, gripping the fabric of his pajama bottoms with desperate fists. Little, soft, frantic fists.

“P’ease… no…” he hiccuped.

“Sweetheart,” Hotch murmured, running a slow hand down his spine, “You need to understand what you did was wrong...”

He lifted Spencer gently, settling him across his lap — belly-down, cradled more than restrained. Not pinned. Not held harshly. Just positioned.

Grounded.

Spencer whimpered as the realization sank in.

“Dadaaa…” he cried softly, kicking once, weakly. “No no no…”

Hotch’s hand rested on the back of his diapered bottom, rubbing slow circles.

“We’re going to get this over quickly,” he said. “Five swats, and that will be enough, because even when you’re little, yelling and cursing at your teammates is rude and bad behaviour. And you know it. But it is also not the end of the world.”

Spencer let out a broken cry, burying his face deeper into Hotch’s knee, tiny fingers fisting into the fabric.

Hotch rubbed his back again. “You’re not in trouble anymore after this.Dada promises.”

Then —

A soft swat.

Barely a tap.

But Spencer jolted, letting out a tiny “Eep—!”

The second swat followed quickly, still gentle, still warm rather than sharp.

Spencer yelped, little legs kicking. “Da—Da—!”

“Three,” Hotch counted, tone calm, utterly controlled.

Spencer clung harder to his father’s pant leg, tears dripping freely. His cries weren’t loud — they were small, babyish, confused, overwhelmed little sounds, but they didn’t carry any real pain in them.

The fourth swat came. Spencer gasped, hips twitching.

And the fifth landed softly, the final punctuation of a lesson rather than a punishment.

All tension drained from Hotch’s shoulders.

“All done,” he murmured immediately, sliding his hands under Spencer’s chest, lifting him up into his arms in one practiced swoop.

Spencer collapsed against him, sobbing into his neck — the tiniest, saddest cries, snotty and wet and exhausted.

Hotch rubbed his back in long, slow strokes. “Shh… it’s okay. You’re all finished. You’re safe. Dada’s right here.”

Spencer’s hands curled into the collar of Hotch’s shirt, trembling. “Da…da… ‘m sowwy…” he hiccuped, voice cracked and tiny.

“I know,” Hotch whispered into his hair. “I know, sweetheart. And you’re forgiven.”

Spencer nuzzled into his father’s throat with pure instinct, pressing his tear-sticky cheek to Hotch’s skin. Hotch shifted him onto his hip, rocking him gently as he carried him toward the bathroom.

“Bath time,” Hotch murmured. “Warm water, with bubbles, and then cuddles. Dada needs some cuddle bug time with his pumpkin.”

Spencer sniffled, pacifier wobbling as Hotch slipped it back into his mouth.

His head dropped heavily onto Hotch’s shoulder.

And Hotch smiled — soft, proud, achingly tender.

“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered into Spencer’s hairline. “Dada’s here, my sweet boy.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hotch carried Spencer from the bathroom with that steady, protective rhythm that told Spencer’s tired little brain: you’re done now, you did it, you’re safe. 

Warm bath steam clung to Spencer’s curls, and every few seconds he gave a faint bunny-like sniffle, more out of habit than distress. Hotch kissed the crown of his head each time, just a quiet little I’m here, as if sealing the promise into the damp strands.

The bedroom felt dim and cozy, lit only by the softer glow of the lamp that Hotch always used for Little evenings. It painted everything honey-gold, like the room had been dipped in calm.

“Let’s get you comfy,” Hotch murmured, voice low, velvet-thick with affection.

Spencer didn’t even lift his head. He just melted further into Hotch’s neck, becoming a warm, floppy armful. Hotch smiled with his cheek pressed to Spencer’s curls, then guided them both to the rocking chair.

The chair creaked softly under their combined weight — the good kind of creak, the one that always made Spencer’s body sag with instinctive comfort. Hotch settled in, adjusting Spencer so he was curled across his chest, one arm tucked between their bodies, the other loosely hooked around Hotch’s neck.

“You did such a good job today,” Hotch whispered, rocking them into a slow sway. “You apologized, and you let Dada take care of you. Now all you need to do is apologize to the others, okay?”

Spencer blinked sleepily, lashes still clumped from tears. His pacifier bobbed. His fingers curled into the collar of Hotch’s t-shirt, holding on with the softness of someone too tired to form a full thought, but unwilling to let go.

Hotch reached for the warm bottle resting on the side table. Not too hot, not too sweet — just milk warmed to that perfect sleepy-time temperature. He tapped the bottle gently against Spencer’s arm.

“Hungry? You want your baba, sweetie?”

Spencer released the pacifier with a tiny pop, letting it fall onto Hotch’s shirt. His eyes were half-moons as he turned his face up, trusting, wordless. Hotch guided the bottle to his lips, holding Spencer close with his free arm.

The first sip made Spencer’s shoulders drop, a soft hum spilling from him as he relaxed. His breathing fell into a tiny, steady rhythm. The rocking chair kept time, each sway smoothing him out like a crease.

“That’s it,” Hotch soothed. “Slow sips. Dada’s got you.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered open once, just enough to meet Hotch’s gaze — huge, glassy, and adoring. Hotch brushed a thumb across his cheek.

“I love you,” Hotch whispered.

Spencer made a tired little “mn…” sound around the nipple, which Hotch translated by instinct: love you too, Dada.

After a few minutes, the bottle grew lighter, and Spencer’s body heavier. Hotch rested the bottle aside and repositioned Spencer, cradling him close. Spencer burrowed immediately into the crook of Hotch’s neck, breath puffing little warm ghosts against his skin.

Rock. Rock. Rock.

The room felt like a lullaby.

“You’re safe,” Hotch murmured, voice drifting into a whisper meant only for the boy in his arms. “Nothing’s going to hurt you here. You’re all done. You can rest now, sweetheart. Dada will keep you safe.”

A soft, tiny hand patted at Hotch’s chest once — Spencer’s sleepy version of okay. Then it went limp.

Hotch continued rocking long after Spencer’s breathing evened, long after his small weight settled fully into sleep. He kissed Spencer’s temple.

“Goodnight, my darling boy.”

The rocking chair kept its gentle rhythm, the house hushed around them, father and son wrapped in the warm quiet of peace finally earned.