Okey dokey darlings, started for a prompt meme prompt, and then—I can be so bad at the internet—I lost track of the damn meme. Anyways, trigger warning: RAPE –I am not kidding you. This is as graphic as I can be without being graphic. The original prompt was, more or less, Hotch/Reid, enacting a rape fantasy, Jack accidentally sees it, and calls Morgan for help…..there you have it.
Oh, do not own criminal minds, do not make money off of this story, never have, never will.
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"What number do you call?"
"Press three for Uncle Morgan."
"What's Uncle Morgan's whole number?"
And Jack duly recited it to Aaron Hothner.
"If Daddy is hurt who do you call?"
"Uncle Morgan."
"If Uncle Spencer is hurt who do you call?"
"Uncle Morgan."
"What's Uncle Morgan's number?"
Everyday Aaron Hotchner made sure his little boy knew how to call for help. And Jack Hotchner was a fast and thorough learner.
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Aaron tried not to be horrified at what Spencer wanted. "I know you don't really want to be raped, that you are asking me to act as though I am raping you that frightens me."
Whoever has said the sub had the power was right. Aaron was sharing feelings he didn't know he had, and now that he knew he had them he would rather not be discussing them. More than once he had wondered what it would be like to take Spencer forcibly, not against his will, but forcibly; feeling Spencer fight against him, what noises would Spencer make. Would Spencer fight him off? Would Spencer come? He could see his cuffs on Spencer's wrists, Spencer's ankles bound and spread against the bed posts. Spencer begging. Yes or no? For which would Spencer beg? Would Spencer use their safe word? Would that stop him? He knew that he would stop; he just didn't think he would want to. He wanted Spencer to know that he, Aaron Hotchner could force Dr. Spencer Reid into the most humiliating of sexual submissions. Oh God, he hadn't planned on exploring that thought at all.
"Aaron, I would like you to rape me—not pretend to rape me. I. want. You. To. Rape. Me. I want you to physically make me submit to you. I want you to overpower me, I want you to rip my clothes, as necessary off, I want you to force my compliance, with your gun, with restraints, with threats, with any or all of those things, make me open my legs for you—even if I deny wanting you, even when I try to deny you entry. No matter what I say once we have started you will subdue me, you will fuck me, hard, up the ass, and there will be no safe word; even if I use a safeword, you will finish up what you started."
There was silence. "Aaron, please, don't make me explain this, just let me need it." Spencer was already humiliated at having to ask.
Aaron looked worried, he lifted and eyebrow, he looked slightly askance at his lover, then he nodded.
Spencer didn't know what he had just asked. Or worse, maybe he did.
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"'night Jack!"
"Goodnight moonshine!" Spencer whispered, his little joke, Aaron was going to have to put a stop the silly name.
Aaron and Spencer ruffled their little boy's hair and then waited as he fell asleep. They both wished they could sleep like he did. In an hour nothing would wake him.
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Spencer smiled, in an hour they would have the rest of the evening to themselves, and the next two days off to recover. Spencer fully expected Aaron to get into this, he was hoping there wouldn't be any too obvious bruising. He found himself afraid, he hadn't been explicit in what he had asked Aaron to do, the lack of information was already frightening, but the fear, the unknown, the unexpected, was integral to the fantasy. He would finish the dishes while he waited to be sure Jack was asleep.
A hand covered his mouth, and a gun pressed to the back of his neck. He squealed, the sound muffled by the hand not just forcing his mouth shut, but pushing up against his nose, making it hard to breath. Aaron would never put a loaded gun against his neck, Aaron wouldn't keep a loaded gun in the house, Aaron's gun should be in the gun safe. Spencer felt cold fear, he felt a line of sweat down his back, he felt his hackles prick up, and tears spring to his eyes. He fought to turn around—he needed to know that this was in fact Aaron.
Spencer struggled to throw his shoulders side to side and arched his back against his assailant. Please let this be Aaron. He threw himself forward, but remained unable to unbalance his attacker. He closed his eyes, he did better in hand-to-hand fighting with his eyes closed. He was surrounded by the distinct irreplaceable smell of Aaron.
Spencer was about to feel relieved then the hand with the gun traveled a menacing line around his neck and across his throat, the arm finding a comfortable spot putting just enough pressure on his windpipe that Spencer was sure Aaron meant business.
Aaron still hadn't said a word. Spencer made up his mind to comply, if he made any noise he could wake Jack, Jack hadn't been asleep that long had he? The thought of Jack walking in on them at any time could be a little unnerving; the thought of Jack walking in on Aaron sexually assaulting him in the kitchen was outright terrifying.
"Shusssshhhhh." whispered Aaron in Spencer's ear, as he slowly released the grip over Spencer's mouth. "You asked for this." He ran his thumb around Spencer's lips.
Spencer's throat tightened, he needed out, out of this now. He lunged forward biting at Aaron's thumb, there was nothing to see yet even if Jack woke up. Aaron in a single movement threw Spencer forward against the sink, tightened his arm across Spencer's throat, and used his free hand to twist Spencer's face to the side. "You'll regret that," he murmured, as soft as gently spoken as any endearment he had ever uttered while making love.
Aaron released Spencer's face, he released his throat enough that Spencer knew he wasn't in imminent danger of asphyxiating, he used the gun to touch Spencer's belt, he ran the barrel down Spencer's fly, into Spencer's crotch, "everything, Spencer, everything down here is mine, your cock, your balls, your hole, you pretty little ass, all mine to do with as I please, and by the end of the evening you will know that in a way you will never forget." His voice was still soothing.
"Spencer?" Spencer looked up at Aaron with wide eyes, Aaron didn't think he had seen this much fear on Spencer's face since Hankle. Hankle hadn't? had he? He had never asked, there was plenty of time off camera; maybe he had; maybe that was why Spencer needed this; this was a damn bad coping mechanism. Aaron didn't want to be Hankle.
"Did he?" Spencer shook his head. "Then who?" Spencer tried to turn his face away. "Who?" Now Aaron's voice was menacing. It was probably for the best that he wasn't a therapist. "Who?" He slapped Spencer up the side of the face with the hand-gun. "Who, are you protecting Spencer?" Spencer choked back a sob. This wasn't meant to happen. Aaron was not meant to have at gunpoint in a strangle hold in the kitchen intimidating, interrogating him. And he was hard.
Aaron turned Spencer to face him. "Are you protecting your mother?" He shook Spencer violently, letting Spencer's head hit against a kitchen cabinet. "Are you protecting your mother? Did she do something to you?" Spencer looked horrified, and Aaron relented for a moment, holstering his gun, and holding Spencer. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Spencer nodded his assent into Aaron's shoulder. "How sure?" Spencer nodded again.
Aaron spun Spencer around, tripping him, throwing him to the ground, and kicking him in the crotch as he landed splayed, face down on the floor, Spencer tried to get up. Aaron kicked him in the ribs, crouched down menacingly and muttered, "We don't want anyone, and I do mean anyone, to hear, to know, and specifically see what I do to you tonight. Do you understand that?"
Spencer nodded, trying to catch his breath.
"Not another noise out of you, dr. Reid, or I will break your jaw, and I do mean it. If, and I do mean if, I chose for you to say anything you will answer me, immediately, and quietly and honestly." Aaron stood up and tapped Spencer in the face with his foot, not hard, just hard enough to open a lip, to bruise, to make him bleed.
Spencer slowly stood up. A nod from Aaron sent Spencer walking up the stairs. The adrenaline was gone, his hard on was gone, all that was left was Aaron, and letting Aaron erase anything that had happened to him before them.
Aaron shoved Spencer onto the bed, and handed Reid his own, Reid's own cuffs. "I thought you liked these better." He was right Reid preferred the 1950's style cuff, it was harder to pick and release. Spencer cuffed his hands and held them in front of his crotch. He licked the blood on his lip, there was a salt taste from tears he didn't know he had cried, probably from being kicked in the crotch. Then Aaron opened Spencer's fly tugged Spencer's jeans off, roughly pulled Spencer's boxers off, there was a little blood, probably from the kick. Aaron hadn't expected blood so soon. He looked at Spencer with concern. Spencer nodded.
"Ok?" Aaron lifted Spencer's face to his; he kissed Spencer's mouth softly. Large doe eyes, filled with love followed Aaron. Then Aaron placed a finger across Spencer's lips, "Only when I tell you, ok?" Spencer nodded. His cock and balls still hurt from the kick.
"Lay down." Aaron shoved Spencer toward the center of the bed. "Open your legs."
Spencer paused.
Aaron lent down and yanked on the cuffs, pulling Spencer's hands above his head, pulling Spencer over backward, crawling over him, linking the cuffs to a pre-placed pair at the headboard, forcing Spencer's legs apart with a knee. Spencer fought him, teeth clenched together to keep his silence, if he wanted this he needed to keep silent; if he cried out would Aaron stop? Or would Aaron hurt him? Did he want that? Either of those? Did he want this at all?
Spencer tried to hold his legs together as Hotch used his considerable upper body strength to force Spencer's legs wide; then settling himself between, effectively blocking any hope Spencer had ever had of holding Aaron out of his body. Hotch, fully dressed, zipper down, sat between Spencer's forcibly spread legs, he forced a finger into an unprepared Spencer, as Spencer whimpered.
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Jack got up. He was lonely, and things were different. He didn't like it when things were different, something might go wrong.
Usually Daddy and Pops would be downstairs doing the dishes and talking, and Daddy would have one of his special drinks, and Pops would complain, and then later Daddy would go and do some work, and pops would write one of those long stories he wrote and sent to people, and then Pops would go get Daddy, and sometimes Pops would just stand at Daddy's office door and watch Daddy, and he watched the look on Pop's face, because that looks said Daddy and Pops would be together forever, and Daddy and Pops loved each other, and when Daddy looked up he would have the same look, and then Jack would hurry to his bedroom and pretend to be asleep. Then after that they would come and check on him, and he would know that he was safe, and he could stop pretending and go to sleep.
But tonight Pops had gone to do the dishes and something had happened, something had gone wrong, he knew it had, and had to go and check on Pops and Daddy and see if he should call Uncle Morgan. He picked up his emergency phone. Daddy and Pops wouldn't like it that he checked, but he had to, what if one of them was hurt?
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Spencer fought against the cuffs, he didn't know if he was fighting Aaron's fingers in or out. He was just struggling.
"Tell me, Spencer, who you are trying to erase? Who did this to you Spencer? Who couldn't you say not to? Who didn't you say no to? Who did you say no to? Who Spencer, has taken and violated your body so much that you have to erase it?" Aaron ran the fingers of his free hand over Spencer's face, gently cupping his chin for a moment.
Spencer shook his head and tried to buck his hips up, tried to throw Aaron off. "No, Aaron, no, this isn't what I wanted, Aaron stop, please?"
Aaron straddled Spencer's hips, and lent menacingly over Spencer. "Tell me, and this ends." Aaron tightened a hand around Spencer's throat. "Tell me. And it all ends."
Spencer shook his head, trying to draw his knees up, trying to get away.
"Who did this first Spencer? I don't want you thinking about them, I want you thinking about me, about me between your thighs, about me forcing myself into you, about me taking you, making your mine, this is about us Spencer, and no one but us, about me owning you. You can give yourself, or I can force you, either way you are mine." Aaron never raised his voice, the empathy never left his eyes.
Spencer shook his head. "You know the Reily Jenkins case? My dad didn't do anything to Reily."
The missing part was he did other things, and Aaron could fill that in for himself. Spencer had given his truth over, now was the time for Aaron to take him, to own him.
The speed with which Aaron entered him surprised Spencer. He was unprepared, he jotled up at the sudden intrusion, suddenly being taken from a place where Aaron totally understood him, to a place where Aaron was ready to brutalize him, only Aaron's forgiveness to stand between his bliss and his pain.
"Aaron."
"Shusshh."
"Aaron it hurts."
"Shusshhh."
"Aaron, NO!" Spencer tried to pull away as Aaron's stokes got harder. Spencer let the tears fall down his face, he couldn't help it, he had no choice, Aaron knew why he wanted this. All he could do was focus on Aaron, accept Aaron's intrusion, Aaron's presence in, Aaron's force in his body.
"Aaron, it hurts."
Spencer raised his head, his eyes went wide, "Aaron!"
Aaron grabbed the ball gag and shoved it into Spencer's mouth, he would deal with the details in a second, right now subduing Spencer needed his full attention, he had started to struggle in earnest.
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Jack's eyes went wide. His mouth fell open. He gasped, the covered his mouth with a hand, nearly dropping his emergency phone. Daddy had tied Pops up and made Pops cry, he was hurting Pops he had heard Pops say so. Daddy wouldn't stop.
Jack knew his instructions. "Leave immediately. If you haven't been seen leave as quietly as you can, don't change anything, don't close doors."
He thought Pops had seen him, he thought Pops had wanted to say something t him, but he didn't think that counted.
"Leave the house if you can." He didn't think he could, Daddy always heard the door, the one time he had tried to visit Max next door Daddy had caught him and he wasn't happy, but this was the worst he had ever seen Daddy. Daddy was hurting Spencer.
"Call Uncle Morgan no matter what." Jack thought that "no matter what" included what Daddy was doing to Spencer.
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Spencer was struggling hard, he was kicking to a point that Aaron had to hold Spencer's legs with his thighs. He hadn't thought he could follow through, but Spencer struggling, bucking under him egged him on; then he would look at Spencer's flushed tear stained panicked face, and want to stop. He was hurting Spencer, no matter what Spencer had wanted, he was hurting Spencer. His own tears were ready to start. A sob broke out of him.
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"J.J. we need to get to Hotch's place NOW."
Morgan had got a desperate phone call from Jack.
"Daddy's hurting Spencer," Jack's voice was tiny.
He couldn't get much out of Jack. Jack was locked his room, Daddy and Pops were in their room, Pops was crying, he could see Daddy's gun, and Daddy wouldn't stop, and then he wouldn't let Pops speak."
If Aaron Hotchner so much as damaged a hair on Spencer's head Morgan would cut his damn balls off before he killed him slowly, by hand. He had known something like this would happen.
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J.J. had Jack in her arms and swept out of the house. Morgan, gun drawn proceeded to Hotch and Reid's room. That still irked him, Hotch and Reid's room, the power difference, the age difference, the experience difference was too obvious. He carefully pushed the door fully open with his gun drawn, he saw Reid's tear stained face, and Hotch fucking him. Reid shook his head, he looked directly at Morgan and shook his head.
"I can't"
Hotch was crying? He was definitely crying.
"I can't hurt you Spencer, no matter what you want."
It was amazing how even, how reassuring Hotch's voice was even under the worst of circumstances.
Aaron reached up and pulled the gag out of Spencer's mouth.
"Spencer?" it was Morgan's voice.
Hotch spun around. Gun pulled out of sheer instinct; balancing himself, semi-clothed, between Spencer's bloodied thighs, facing down the intruder.
"Oh god." Morgan shook his head, and holstered his gun. There was blood on Spencer's face, blood on his thighs, he was cuffed, and crying and helpless—and willing?
"Oh god." He turned and walked out, out of the room, out of the house.
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"JJ, everything's ok. I'll explain later." Morgan said quietly, nodding his head over to Jack.
"If everything's fine what is Daddy hurting Spencer?"
Oh he was happy to not be Aaron Hotchner just right now.
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