#camp bau

[queenreynaofnewrome]

Sneak Peak #2

(sneak peak 1)

BAU Team:

Unit Chief Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano, the youngest unit chief in the bureau. Strong, supportive leader. Knew Jason when she was younger, but they hadn’t seen each other in years by the time Jason joined the team. When on the job, doesn’t let that history get in the way. Her early life helped shape her aspirations. Speaks Spanish, and always scores perfectly at the range.

Tech Analyst Leo Valdez, the sarcastic computer genius. When he gets bored, he dismantles and rebuilds some of his equipment. His mom died in an intentionally set fire when he was younger, and that motivated him to join the FBI and help catch people like the man who killed his mom. Speaks Spanish and likes to try and make Reyna crack a smile with his dumb jokes.

SSA Annabeth Chase, the resident book genius of team. Between her many hyperfixations growing up, she has a lot of seemingly random facts that tend to come in handy. Her time as a runaway when she was young led her to see and hear things, and to want to help children. Cases with kids always hit her harder than outsiders expect them to. Knows some Greek, and loves architecture.

SSA Hazel Levesque, a kind person who doesn’t let anyone walk over her. She grew up looking after her mom, and riding horses with her best friend. Not big on technology, and quick on her feet. Grew up in New Orleans, and speaks Louisianan French. She’s the best cook of the group, and invites the team over for dinner whenever she can. Inherited money from the father she never met, but donates most to charities.

SSA Jason Grace, a guy who has a lot of questions and not always enough answers. Grew up in a foster home, where he first met Reyna. Lost touch with her after three years of friendship when she moved in with her sister. Doesn’t know much about his family, and on his off hours, tries to piece together his history. Knows some words in Latin from a history project in high school.

SSA Piper McLean, daughter of an actor, who has a lot of connections. She’s never let the fame get to her, but she’s also used to nice things. She likes making a name for herself and her skills, not who she’s related to. Tries to keep her personal and work life separate, but she still gets recognized because of her father. Local law enforcement can underestimate her, but she always proves them wrong. Knows some Cherokee and loves Native American stories and myths.

SSA Frank Zhang, whose mom died when he was younger, and who was raised by his grandmother. Speaks Chinese and French Canadian. Very knowledgeable about animals and weapons, even though he hates having to use excessive force in any form. He, Piper, and Hazel are the best bet to talk an unsub down. He’s not a huge fan of the political part of the job, more focused on helping people.

Other Characters:

Percy Jackson, co-owner of a bakery. Teenage runaway and seen as a “problem child” whose life fell apart when his mom died and he had to live with his step father. Learned to rebuild his life with the help of his friends and wears his scars like armor. Fiercely protective over his chosen family, intense RBF with a heart of gold. Lives above the bakery with Silena, his honorary sister.

Silena Beauregard, co-owner of the bakery. One year older than Percy. Her mom left when she was six, and her father did his best. She has two younger siblings she doesn’t see as much as she wants to. Ran away from home, tired of everyone seeing her as “the poor girl whose mom left.” Her siblings (twins) had each other, and she felt alone. She had memories of their mom. They didn’t.

Thalia Grace, teenage runaway who met up with Luke and Annabeth. Annabeth eventually went home, but Thalia and Luke didn’t. They eventually met Percy and Silena. Thalia was in an accident as a teenager, and has been at the hospital since. She lost her memories of her personal life, but her hospital bills are paid by a prominent NY lawyer known for having affairs.

Will Solace, second generation doctor. More than acquaintance, not quite friend, of Percy and Silena. Thalia’s doctor. Kind hearted. Tries to follow the rules, but will break them if it’s the better choice. His need to help people can override his logical thinking sometimes.

Luke Castellan, child run away. Made his way across country from California to New York. Picked up strays, knowing what it was like and wanting to take them away from the bad. Tries to find a path to make a real difference. Falls apart emotionally after learning his mom died, after Thalia gets hurt. Wishes he could redo some of his past choices.

Nico di Angelo, lives/d with his big sister for most of his life. Their mom was murdered when they were 16 and 18. They’ve stuck together, relying on each other. But tragedy seems to follow them.

Kayla Knowles, medical examiner assisting local law enforcement, and then the BAU, on the case. Close friends with Will.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Percy’s best friend from after. After remaking his life. Artist who provided artwork for the bakery, and offers her place up to Silena and Percy when needed. From a rich family, but down to earth. Big on nature.

Grover Underwood, Percy’s best friend from before, when he was a kid and still had his mom. Reconnected with Percy a couple years after Percy ran away. Encouraged him to peruse his dreams. Gets along with Silena and Rachel, lives with his girlfriend juniper nearby and works for a non-profit.

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

i have too many wips on the go. its a sickness

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover - A.H

a/n: this is honestly kind of shit but whatever

might make this a mini series?

part two here!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: reader kind of flashes hotch, really inconsistent with how the gov works i'm sure, there's also definitely not an oven in the break room but in my world there is <3

wc: 3.8k

Hotch's voice reached you, but the words tangled into an indecipherable code as they hit the air. You nodded, a reflex, but it was as if your brain had short-circuited. You could make out fragments--a hit on you, stay at office, 24/7 protection, you can take the back office. But no matter how many times he said it, it seemed to ricochet through your head, making less sense each time. You were on a hit list? A hit list?

It all felt very made up, like a script ripped straight out of a tv show. Risk was a part of the BAU job description, but a hit list? For a fleeting moment, a chuckle hovered at the brink of your lips, but it was swiftly swallowed by a wave of dread that rose in its place. You blinked a couple times, probably too many in a vain attempt to clear the fog and bring Hotch's face into focus.

"But what about all my stuff? And you want me to camp out here in the office? For how long, Hotch? I mean, I'm all for overtime, but this is... this is a lot, and I--," you babble, your speech racing ahead of your thoughts. "And my baking? That's my biggest stress reliever. Not to mention my DIY projects--I can't just abandon my half-finished throw pillowcases. Plus, how many pairs of shoes is too many for an office closet?"

Your pout formed a delicate bow, and though he said nothing, his eyes softened. Hotch could feel the frown marring his features. He might never say it, but seeing you like this struck a chord, making it a little hard to breathe. 

Circling the desk, he planted himself in front of you, his hand settling on your shoulder. "Hey, take a deep breath," he urges softly. "Let's take it one step at a time. List out what you need, someone will bring it here. Your baking supplies, DIY projects, even your shoes."

True to Hotch's word, as usual, you found every piece of your life carefully compartmentalized into cardboard boxes, lined up carefully in the office that now doubled as your temporary room. There was an odd sense of dislocation in finishing your workday and needing only to count about thirty steps before arriving at your room.

You swung the door closed, the sound sealing the room as a deep sigh wrapped around you and you started sifting through the boxes. The pullout couch serving as your bed was less than appealing, its worn fabric making you grimace internally. Nevertheless, you diverted your attention, busying yourself with the organizing of your extensive collection of things. Spencer would definitely shake his head at the sight of the vast amount of clothes you had brought.

The irony wasn't lost on you; surrounded by the office's ceaseless motion, yet you felt more alone than in the stillness of your own apartment. God, this was pathetic, and you needed a drink, but you had a nagging suspicion the office handbook would have a thing or two to say about that. You spent a solid two hours attempting to infuse the sterile space with a touch of home, it wasn't perfect (at all), but it would have to do.

Rossi knocks on the doorframe, poking his head in with a grin. "I didn't realize we were redecorating the bureau in shades of bubblegum," he teases. "How you doing, kid?"

"Actually, it's blush," you correct with a mock-serious tone, meeting his smile with one of your own. "I'm fine," you insist, but Rossi's knowing look prompts a quick add-on. "I am, really, I mean I've always said I wanted my own office."

"An office with a view of the bullpen, no less. You're living the dream," he says, his eyes scanning the room. "Need any help with anything? Or anything else from your place? Maybe your favorite mug to make feel more like home?"

"Don't worry, I'm already one step ahead of you," you assure him, revealing a drawer brimming with mugs.

Rossi lets out a low appreciative whistle. "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckles with a broad grin. "Well, I'm heading out for the night. Remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. And Hotch is still here, buried in paperwork as usual."

He left, and you were alone--a cue to try and cling to some normalcy of your routine; you drew the blinds and slipped into the comfort of your pajamas. You hauled yourself off to the office bathroom, reluctantly at that, and proceeded to attend to your skincare, brush your hair, and polish your smile with a thorough teeth brushing.

Eyeing the hallway warily, you made a silent exit from the bathroom, the carpet softening your footfalls. But in your rush to avoid prying eyes, you crashed into a solid wall of a figure, the force sending you tumbling backward. You hit the floor with a muted thud, your ass hitting the ground, legs splayed inelegantly in front of you. Your eyes rose to meet the firm, penetrating look of Hotch. Of fucking course.

There was a pause as Hotch's eyes drank in the sight of your flushed complexion and the wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to capture the light just so. He felt like his heart could stop then and there. And he knew it was wrong, but he certainly liked the sight of you sprawled below him. He blinked, breaking the trance, and offered a concerned, "Are you okay?" His hands were outstretched, ready to pull you back to your feet. 

Your cheeks turned a deeper shade as you held onto Hotch's hand, the feeling unexpectedly comforting, rough in yours but nice. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm all good, sorry about that," you managed to say, the words squeaking out a tad too eagerly. 

You stood up, and his closeness was all-consuming. You were suddenly intensely aware of every breath, every throb of your heart, and your mind went blank; the usual stream of thoughts replaced by a buzzing silence.

His eyes held yours for a fraction longer than necessary before he stepped back, creating a respectful distance. The hallway's warmth seemed to dissipate with the space, leaving you with an unexpected stab of disappointment. 

"Rossi said you'd be here. Anything I can do to help?" 

You rationalized the offer as a gesture of your goodwill, but a small part, well a big part, of you knew just wanted to be close to him, to be alone with him maybe--in the office, after hours, in his office. This was weird, I mean, you'd always admired your Unit Chief, but this was different. You chalked it up to the day's unfortunate series of events--you were tired, and lonely, and you needed desperately to snap out of it before you made a fool out of yourself.

"No, you need to rest. It's been a long day, and you've been through enough." He paused, his gaze assessing you. "How are you holding up?"

"At this rate, I'll need a sign that says 'I'm fine,' to stop the check-ins." Although you silently doubted that would deter him. You gesture to the surroundings. "And this? It's like a sleepover at work. Just hoping this so-called hit man doesn't show up."

Hotch internally recoiled at your words, leaving him with the sensation of a cold grasp tightening around his heart. He cleared his throat, the joke falling flat in the gravity of his concern. "I'll be here for a while longer. If you need anything, don't hesitate to come find me," he managed a nod before retreating to his office.

A while longer? You knew Hotch was a workaholic, but it now occurred to you that he must never sleep. Quickly, you gathered your scattered belongings, and made your way to your office.

The pull-out couch seemed even less inviting than you remembered, if that was possible. You perched on the edge, the metallic frame cold through the thin mattress. As you lay down, the couch seemed to swallow you in its awkward angles. Perfect. Tossing and turning, you struggled to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, exhaustion won over discomfort, the rhythm of your own breathing lulling you into a fitful sleep.

Your eyes flickered open at some point during the night and the blinds drifted apart, as if by an unseen hand, and through the gap, your eyes fell on a hooded figure, the face not visible in the dim light. Your muscles locked in terror, an icy fear clawing its way up your spine as you tried to move--to reach for your gun, to call out for Hotch, to do anything. But as if imprisoned by an invisible force, you could only watch, confined to the bed, as the figure crept towards the door. 

A scream tore from your throat, a raw and piercing sound that ricocheted off the walls and echoed through your eyes. This was it, you thought. 

Then, in an instant, you were awake and disoriented, your breaths coming in short bursts, and your body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Your fingers clenched the sheets, the fabric twisting in your grasp as you fought to decipher what was reality. Your eyes snapped to the blinds, half-expecting to see the figure from your dream materialize, but the emptiness beyond them slowly calmed your racing heart.

With a throat dry as parchment and your pulse still echoing in your ears, you drifted from your room towards the break room. As you ambled past Hotch's office, you paused. The door, slightly ajar, felt like an invitation. Despite knowing better, a foggy curiosity nudged your feet forward. With a shaky breath, you eased the door open wider and slipped inside. 

His office felt different at night--it was quieter, more personal, and you felt like an intruder on Hotch's private world. You took a moment, absorbing the sight of his meticulously organized desk, the case files that were always present.

It was tempting to try to piece together the man from his workspace, but you held back. As you turned to leave, a familiar scent stopped you--the subtle hint of his cologne hanging in the air. It wrapped around you, easing the tension that had sunk into your limbs. Almost without thinking, you found yourself sinking into the couch.

The room, infused with his distinct scent, seemed to have your blinking growing heavier, more intentional. You nestled deeper into the cushions; the fabric familiar beneath your fingers, lulling you into a sense of security. Just five minutes, you thought.

Hotch's steps were slow, his eyelids having a hard time staying open as he made his way through the bullpen. He carried his briefcase, the leather handle worn and conformed to his hand. He contemplated a detour to your office, a silent check-in to ease his mind, but he dismissed the idea--you were probably still asleep, and he'd definitely look like a creep. Reaching his own office, he noticed the door ajar, a sliver of morning light spilling through the gap.

He stepped into the room, and time seemed to stand still as his gaze landed on the couch. There you were, fast asleep on his couch. Your hand lay gently under your cheek, a makeshift pillow softening the hard angles beneath, while your nose gave the faintest twitches. Your lips were parted as if mid-whisper and strands of your hair were splayed in a disarrayed crown around your head. He knew that in no way could that have been comfortable. It hurt his back just looking at you, but still you looked so peaceful.

He moved with quiet steps, heat creeping up his neck as he placed his things on the desk. Turning back to you, he couldn't help but notice the gentle dishevelment of your pajamas, buttons undone in innocent disarray, the fabric parting to reveal the gentle slope of your breasts. He felt an odd mix of emotions--a gentle chiding for finding you in such state, and the guilt of finding the sight so undeniably sweet. 

A quiet cough escaped him, more out of habit than necessity, as he approached a cabinet where blankets were neatly stacked--a nod to many nights spent just as you were. He draped one over you, his movements slow and unhurried, shielding you from potential curious eyes before finding his normal place behind the wooden desk.

He tried to focus--really, he did. I mean, he had a towering pile of paperwork and responsibilities that demanded his attention. But despite his best efforts, his gaze involuntarily drifted to you time and time again. It was as if he needed visual confirmation of your steady breathing to assure himself that you were okay. He thought about you here all night, alone, and he found his knuckles whiten against the grip of his pen. He knew you had security on you at all times, but somehow, he found no comfort in that.

Hotch's eyes flicked to the clock--7:30 am. You still had at least another half an hour before you technically needed to start work, although truth be told he would let you sleep as long as your body allowed. There was no way in hell he was going to disturb you when you looked so content. 

As Hotch worked, the morning light grew stronger, casting a warm glow over his desk. It was nearly 9 am when the sound of shifting fabric eventually roused you. You were waking up, blinking away the remnants of sleep, confusion etched on your face. As your eyes caught sight of the clock and Hotch, mortification set it. 

"Oh my gosh, Hotch. I am so sorry," you blurted out, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "You could've woken me up--I... I should've set an alarm. And I shouldn't even be here, but I can explain, sort of..."

In a flurry of motion, you leapt from the couch, only to feel a sudden tug at your chest as a button from your top snagged on a stray thread. The fabric pulled open, revealing way more than what was appropriate for your boss to see. Your face turned a shade redder as you scrambled to cover up. Hotch, momentarily sidetracked by the sight of the cleavage of your tits once again, quickly refocused and interrupted your flustered explanations.

"It's fine," he assured. "Given everything that's happened, you needed the rest." He nodded towards the couch. "You're always welcome to sleep here if you need to--though I can't promise it'll be any more comfortable next time."

"Oh no, it was super comfortable, really," you insist, despite the awkwardness clinging to your words. Hotch gives you a look that says he's not entirely convinced. "Okay, well, I'm going to uh... go," you mumble, stopping short at the door with a sudden concern.

Hotch understands immediately and offers, "They're all in the briefing room--won't be out for a while."

With a relieved nod, and minimal eye contact, you dash out, hoping to reach your office unnoticed. But because the world just hated you these past days, just as you're rushing by, Morgan's hands come to your shoulders to stop you.

"Easy there, mama," he teases, a smile on his face. But as he gets a good look at your attire, his grin grows wider. "What in the world...?" he starts, laughter in his voice. He glances from you to Hotch's office door, then back again. "Hold up, hold up--you didn't... with Hotch? Are you?"

"What? No, Morgan, absolutely not! Why would you even--oh my god," you gasp, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. God, I mean, the day hasn't even started, and you needed it to end. Realizing your voice has risen in your flustered state, you quickly lower it to a harsh whisper, your eyes darting around to ensure no one overheard. "Why would you even suggest that?"

"Um, maybe because you're making a grand exit from the boss man's office in your PJs? Just a wild guess."

"No, Morgan, it's not what you think," you insist, but your attention snaps to the sound of the team's voices nearing the door. "I don't have time for this," you mutter, darting back to your office. 

In a whirlwind, you shed the pajamas, slip into your work attire, and hastily run a brush through your hair. Good enough. 

You threw yourself into work, the stack of papers becoming a welcome distraction, a rare sense of relief rather than the familiar dread. It was a considerable effort to divert your mind from the distractions--Hotch, the hit man, and Morgan's incessant teasing. Not that anyone would believe that you and Hotch were together; he was the very definition of sophisticated, handsome, and successful, and you were just, well, you.

Not that there was anything wrong with you. You liked yourself just fine; you laughed too loudly at jokes, talked to your houseplants as if they were your old friends, and you had an odd fascination with weather patterns. These things made you wholly you. You just knew you couldn't be more different from Hotch.

With a bit of luck and purposeful avoiding, your day passed smoothly, sparing you any unnecessary run-ins with Hotch. Everyone had gone home for the day which is why you stood in the break room attempting some baking recipe from Pinterest. 

The slippers on your feet padded against the carpet as you hummed around the room. With swift motions, you ushered the coffee cake batter into the oven, then turned to tackle the mess you had created on the countertops. Cleaning as you go wasn't your usual style, but office break room didn't seem like the place for your usual creative sprawl. 

Your phone had buzzed incessantly with Penelope's calls--her offers the keep you company is why you loved her, but you weren't going to subject her to that, no matter how many times she said she didn't mind.

Hotch's office was quiet, save for the soft scratching of his pen against paper as he finally closed his files. He moved into bullpen and as he passed the breakroom, the soft hum of the light and faint sound of movement drew him in. There you were, engrossed in tidying up, with your hair casually gathered above your shoulders and wearing your sweats, Hotch found him instinctively pausing to watch. 

He knew he shouldn't bother you, knew he was likely the last person you'd want to see, yet he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on you, the warmth in his chest intensifying with each fleeting second.

The moment you turned and saw a figure, a sharp gasp cut through the silence, and the icing in your grasp became a sweet projectile that flew across the room. Relief washed over you as you realized who it was.

"Jeez, Hotch, give me a heart attack why don't you," you said, half-laughing as your heart rate settled. "Especially when there's a hitman who might beat you to the punch."

Hotch parted his lips to speak, but you were quicker, a stream of thoughts tumbling out before you could stop them. "I thought everyone was gone. You weren't at your desk earlier--oh wait, you had that meeting with the DOJ, right? Did they have anything about the people who marked me?" 

In your haste, you closed the gap between you, and only then did you spot the icing on his cheek. "Oh, sorry about that, Hotch," you said with an apologetic grin, reaching out as if to wipe it away. 

As your palm made contact with his skin, a shared realization of the intimacy of the gesture washed over you. Time seemed to slow as your thumb traced a lingering path through the icing, your whisper barely audible, "There."

The word seemed to hang in the air as you froze, the proximity suddenly overwhelming, your breath caught in your throat. Hotch's backward step was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. You cleared your throat awkwardly, cheeks warming with a flush. "Um, did you need something?"

Hotch shook his head slightly, "No, just wanted to check on you before I head out."

You gave a thumbs up, mustering a smile. "Well, consider me checked."

Hotch nodded, his expression unreadable. "Goodnight," he said, to which you echoed in response as you watched him leave.

Alone now, you slumped against the counter, your hand pressed to your face. Consider me checked? God, someone needed to tape your mouth shut.

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - not so secret

Hello, I hope it's not too much to ask. Could you possibly do a Hotch x BAU!reader, where they get caught (nothing spicy tho, if that makes sense) in his office by his team. - Anon💜

Slipping into the office, you closed the door quietly behind you and grinned a little as you turned around.

“Didn’t I tell you to take the day off?” Hotch asked.

“Well, yeah, but I was bored.”

Hotch hummed a little, closing the file on his desk.

“You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.”

“Neither have you.” You countered.

Hotch chuckled a little bit, standing up and he closed the blinds, walking over to you and he brushed his knuckles along your cheek.

He leant down, pressing his lips to your forehead, and you closed your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” He whispered.

“Just take a small break Aaron, before you overwork yourself…”

Hotch smiled softly at you, running a thumb along your cheek.

“Alright, a small break. Now show me what’s in your pockets.”

You walked over to his desk, reaching into the pockets of your jacket you pulled out a cup of coffee, setting it down, then you reached into the other pocket, pulling out another cup.

“(Y/N), darling, I love you, but I’ve told you to stop putting coffee cups in your pockets.”

“Ha, jokes on you aaron I have more.”

You unzipped your jacket, reaching into the inside pockets to pull out a bag, and Hotch walked over, looking inside of it.

“Okay, so now you’re carrying a bag of doughnuts?”

You grinned and him and Hotch placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you around and reached into your other pocket, pulling some candy bars out.

“Snacks?”

“I plan on staying so suck it up.”

He chuckled again, holding the back of your jacket so you could take it off and he hung it up with his own before walking back over.

Hotch placed his hands on your waist, and you cradled his face between your hands, letting him lean into your touch.

The moment your hands held his face he immediately relaxed, letting out a sigh of content.

“You need to take care of yourself too… I’m worried about how hard you work…” you whispered.

“I know… I know I’m sorry…”

Hotch leant down, brushing his lips against yours in the ghost of a kiss.

He wasn’t always one for initiating physical contact, sometimes he over thought, and so you leant forward to kiss him.

You moved a hand to the back of his head, playing with the hairs in the base of his neck, and he smiled into the kiss.

He pulled away only slightly.

You frowned a little bit.

“They’ll catch us out eventually..” he whispered.

You shrugged a little bit, placing your hand on the back of his head.

“I don’t care…”

This made him chuckle a little bit and lean back down to give you another kiss before he finally pulled away fully.

Hotch picked up your coffee cup, handing it to you, and picked up his own, sitting down in front of his desk.

You sat down with him, resting your head in his lap as you looked up at him, setting your coffee down in favour for holding his hand in yours instead.

You held your hand in the air, staring up at your conjoined fingers.

“So, have you thought anymore about the weekend?” He asked.

“You mean going away?”

He hummed a little, nodding his head.

“Yeah, what do you think about it? You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to, Jack is as begging me all last night to ask you again.”

You laughed softly, resting both your hands on your stomach.

Hotch set his coffee down, bringing his other hand up to run his hand over your hair.

“I think it sounds pretty cool, I loved camping when I was a kid, my dad taught me everything I know.”

“So, does that mean you can pass your well rounded knowledge of camping down to Jack ready for his trip next month?” He grinned a little.

You laughed softly, bringing his hand up so you could kiss the back of his hand.

“Yes dear, I will pass my camping wisdom on to your son and teach him all he needs to know.”

Hotch grinned a little, leaning down and you met him halfway so you could kiss him.

“You’re a lifesaver…” he whispered.

“I’m just that great.” You beamed.

He chuckled again, leaning down to kiss you once more, and his office door was opened.

You tilted tour head back, and he looked up, you grinned a little bit while he just stared at Garcia.

“Garcia don’t do it.” He warned.

She squealed a little bit, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Garcia?” You asked.

“I’m sorry I can’t! Oh this is so juicy!” She equaled.

“Garcia!” You both yelled.

It was too late because she was already running down the stairs and you snickered a little, resting your head back on Hotch’s lap.

He sighed, but let out a small chuckle.

“Guess times up on keeping this hidden.”

You hummed a little, sitting up and turning around to face him.

“Is it really so bad?”

“No, it isn’t. I’m happy to know that they all know, but you’re answering all the questions.”

“Is that really a wise idea Aaron?” Rossi asked.

You and Hotch stood up, turning to the faces of the grinning team who were blocking the exit.

“You’re both going to answer all our questions.” Derek smirked.

“Interrogation time you two, sit.” Emily said.

You and Hotch sat down at his desk, you in his chair while he sat on the desk in front of you.

You knew they weren’t going until you two had answered all their questions, you were both going to be there for a while

[reiderwriter]

🌞 Just Hanging Out 🌞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 3k

Summary: To kick off your vacation, you find yourself at Rossi's mansion with your team for a big summer barbeque. A hammock in the garden catches your eye, and you enlist Reid to help you have some fun in the sun.

Warnings: reader is a tease, shy Spencer, sexual arousal (M and F) no physical smut (god I wish we still used the citrus system).

A/N: Here's my second entry to @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge! Thanks to everyone who helped my pick the plot for this one :) I was also intending for this to be a reply to one of my requests for more BAU reader, but unfortunately tumblr deleted that request so 🤡 I'm tagging the account below anyways, and I have three more BAU reader fics coming in the next two weeks-ish, including my new series That's What You Get, so I hope you like this fic and be sure to look out for the others! Enjoy~

Here's my masterlist and my requests are open!

It was mid-August, and thankfully, the serial killers of America had given up crime for one week of the year to allow you to enjoy some much needed vacation time. The entire team had been put on annual leave, and you were determined to enjoy it to the absolute capacity of your ability.

Despite being together year-round, you actually enjoyed the company of your coworkers, so when Rossi announced he was planning a summer barbeque at his place to kick off your vacation time, you were ecstatic. If Rossi’s barbecuing skills were anything like his pasta making skills, you were expecting to eat yourself into a food coma and not wake up for the next seven days.

“Not a single one of you will touch this grill, stand within a 1 foot radius of this grill or even dare to look at this grill, so help me God, are we understood?” Rossi announced as soon as you arrived, the last of the BAU team to gather in his self-proclaimed mansion. The gardens were beautiful, and the kids were already running riot on the slip and slide that he had set up for them, screaming and giggling in delight.

“Trust me, you’re not getting me near that thing today, Rossi,” you laugh as you pour yourself a glass of wine from the refreshments table. “Last time I was anywhere near a grill I almost died.”

“I don’t remember encountering any unsubs who used grills as their weapon of choice,” JJ laughed at you as she held out her own glass and you gladly filled it for her.

“That’s because it wasn’t on a case, it was a family barbeque when I was 17 and my grandfather thought I should learn some ‘practical skills,’” you shot a grin at her as she rolled her eyes at you and walked away.

You grabbed your glass and looked for somewhere to perch yourself while you took in the sun. Morgan and Prentiss had already grabbed the two sun-loungers on the patio and were both sitting shirtless (with a bikini top on in Prentiss’s case) taking in as much sun as they could. Garcia was similarly sprawled on the deck sofa, and JJ joined her their after grabbing her refreshment, Will stood by the edge of the deck watching over the kids. Hotch had the amazing foresight to bring his own camping chair, and was set up similarly with one eye on Jack and the other on a book in his hand.

And just where you were expecting him, Spencer Reid was stood awkwardly at the edge of the house, in the only spot of shade he could find, leaning slightly against the door, and squinting into the sun.

“Rossi, you got any other chairs I can grab for me and Reid?” you called out to your host.

“There should be some over by the shed, they might need a bit of a dusting down though.”

“Come on pretty boy, you can’t just be standing all day, you’re going to make me feel tired just watching you,” you laughed up at him and caught the flush of his cheeks as he finally caught that you meant him to follow you.

“I’m really fine here over in the shade, I don’t do too great in the sun, anyways. More of an autumnal person, really…”

“I’d feel bad seeing you stand all day, and besides, what if I need a big, strong man to help me carry my chair over?” As he gaped his mouth open and closed looking for a retort, you felt the small flash of victory spread warm your chest. It wasn’t that you liked messing with Reid, it’s that he was an easy target and actually you loved it.

Having joined the team only the year prior, you’d quickly found the genius incredibly endearing, loving to listen to his little monologues about whatever topic had popped into his head that day, often earning groans from your other colleagues as you encouraged him to keep going.

You’d discovered your love of making him squirm a few months into the job, when you had to interrogate a submissive partner of an unsub together. After theorising that the submissive personality had a thing for women who looked like you, especially ones that were pretty dominant and controlling, you’d decided to give him what he wanted. You’d popped the top button, walked into the room and given him your best shot before having to re-strategize.

“What if we send Reid in there with her?” Morgan was the one to suggest, “Have him act a bit touchy, show him something he’s missing out on. We already tried giving him what he wanted, let’s see how he reacts to someone he doesn’t view as a threat getting everything he thinks he’s entitled to.”

It was a good guess, and it worked. You’d walked into the room, and let Reid start asking the questions. He’d gently laid a hand on your thigh, just high enough for the suspect to notice, and you’d done nothing but quietly whisper directly into his ear, watching the entire time to see how the man in front of you would react. He’d cracked in ten minutes and started spewing misogynistic drivel, so angry that he accidentally confessed to the crime and gave away his partner’s location.

It seemed Reid had cracked just a bit too. He’d avoided eye-contact with you for an entire week after that, and whenever he talked to you in that time, it was like his brain short-circuited. You’d bought a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to his knees with a few whispers in his ear, and you loved the rush of power you felt remembering it. The memory of his strong hand on your thigh did nothing to quell your growing attraction towards the man.

“If you wanted someone big and strong, you should’ve asked Morgan,” Reid snapped you out of your thoughts as he diligently followed you in the direction Rossi had pointed. It was a pretty secluded spot in the garden, a little bit away from the action and you were glad to be out of earshot so you could begin your teasing of the Good Doctor.

“I’m sure you’re big and strong in certain places, Spencer,” you smiled at him, and began looking at the chairs.

You spotted it in the corner, then, the perfect tool for your torment. It seemed relatively new, barely used but still pretty sturdy, and you knew this was it.

“Hey, Rossi, what about this hammock in the corner, can I set this up, too?” you shouted back over to the group and grinned up at Reid.

“Do you have a death wish? Because if so, go ahead and tangle with that devil.” Rossi shouted back, not even looking up from the miriad of sausages and burgers he was working on.

“That sounds like a challenge to me, Doc.” You say and you start pulling it out into the sunlight, Reid steps behind you sighing in defeat. He knew that once you had your mind set on something, you were pretty stubborn about completing it.

“Okay, can you give me a boost?” The bed of the hammock fell to about your chest height, and whilst you knew you were probably able to climb in by yourself, you were wearing a particularly short sundress, and as much as you teased Reid, you didn’t exactly want to give the rest of your team and their families an eyeful.

“You want me to try to lift you into this thing?” Reid squeaked out, a look of confusion passing over his features.

“Yeah, just grab my hips and give me a boost and I’ll swing my legs over and straddle it. Then we can see what’s it's like.” He moved cautiously up behind you, letting his hands graze your waist.

“Reid, you’re going to have to hold me a bit tighter than that if we’re actually going to get anywhere.” You placed your hands over his and pushed his grip down stronger; you could practically hear him gulp from behind you. He pushed you up, and you almost had it, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself up and into it.

After a few attempts, you realised it wasn’t going to work. Reluctantly pulling yourself out of Reid’s grip, you turned to face him.

“New plan, you get in first and pull me up.”

“What? I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing, didn’t you hear what Rossi said?”

“Come on Reid, just this once, for me? We have to try at least!” you pouted up at him now with pleading eyes, hoping that you wouldn’t have to resort to batting your eyelashes at him to get him to agree.

“One attempt, and then I’m grabbing a normal chair and leaving, okay?” He negotiated, but you didn’t care and excitedly wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in for a hug.

“Yay, thank you! I love you, Reid, you know that?” you pulled back slightly to deliver that last line, your arms still around his neck, watching the redness spread upto his cheeks.

He mumbled a quick whatever and pulled away to begin his attempts.

Perhaps it was his few extra inches of height or spindly frame, but Reid managed to climb up quite easily, not even rocking the hammock that much in his ascent.

He sat up pretty steadily, and you lifted your arms to him, and that’s when it all started going wrong. You’re combined weight wasn’t enough to break the hammock, but it was enough to set it off into an unsteady rocking that made your stomach lurch slightly. You swung your leg as best you could over Reid’s, already in the hammock, and as soon as you found some purchase there, he lowered one hand to pull your lower body up as well.

It was just unfortunate that the place his hand landed was directly over your ass, and you let out a sharp gasp as he grabbed it tightly and hauled you up to sit directly over him, chest to chest, practically straddling his entire body in the cramped space of the hammock bed.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I meant to grab your hip.” He tried to let go of you and push his hands up where you could see them, but the sudden movement made the hammock lurch dangerously so you snapped your hand over his and forced them back to their previous position.

“No sudden movements, Spencer, I don’t particularly want to be the butt of all jokes for the next year if we fall out of this thing.” You panicked slightly and squirmed a little in your position, trying to explore your range of movement.

“How are we going to get out of this if we can’t move?” he shot back at you, a look of mild discomfort on his face, and an I-told-you-so begging to escape his lips.

“If you just give me a minute to explore our options, maybe I would be able to figure that out.”

“If you keep squirming like that we’re going to have more problems than just how to get down,” he huffed under his breath, but he was so close that it was impossible for you to miss it.

It was your turn to blush now, as you caught his insinuation. With his hand firmly on your ass, and your legs either side of his, you could feel the entire length of his body below you. Each squirm you made the dampness between your legs pool a little bit more and then you in-turn squirmed even more in a vicious cycle.

After a few minutes, there was no denying that the thing prodding your core was Spencer’s sizable… appendage.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry, it’s just a natural reaction,” he groaned out from below you when he realised you could feel it too, and you’d never heard anything so beautiful as the moans he was accidentally vocalising.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry for being so stubborn about this. Let me see if I can figure something else out,” you cautiously slid your hands up his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut. Pushing against his shoulders, you slowly pulled yourself up to a seated position, doing your best to not rock the hammock too much. The new position did nothing to dampen the friction the two of you were feeling, and you knew that you were a few seconds away from a point of no return. Your hips bucked slightly against him against your will, and you really hoped he hadn’t noticed that was totally not to the benefit of you getting out of the hammock.

You looked down to the ground so you could see how far the descent would be, and if you’d have to call for backup anytime soon. Luckily you thought you’d be able to make it if you just swung your legs over the side and got out as quickly as possible, but fate had other plans.

“Spencer, Y/N what are you two doing over here?” came Emily’s voice from behind you. Spencer’s eyes shot open and he pulled his head up slightly to look at her. However, his movement had rocked the hammock a little bit harder than before, so he had to grab your hip to steady the two of you, pushing you further down into him. You did your best to stifle the moan, biting down hard on your tongue as you did so.

“Oh you know, just hanging out,” he managed to get out in reply, his voice notably higher than it usually was.

“You sure you guys don’t need any help? That doesn’t look like the safest of chairs.” Emily’s questioning stare never lifted and you knew that if she caught wind of what was actually going on, you wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye for an entire year. You couldn’t accept the help.

“Yeah, we were just going to climb down in a second, we’re just checking to see how… sturdy it is right now.”

“Sturdy. Right. Well, Rossi said the food would be ready to start serving in a few minutes and asked me to call you guys over.”

“We’ll be right there, thanks Emily.” You smiled at her and she made to walk away, a suspicious look still on her face.

“What do you mean we’ll be right there, I can’t go over there like this!” Spencer whisper yelled into your ears.

“What else was I supposed to say to get her to go away,” you whisper yelled back. You ran a free hand through your hair, and shifted again, your legs beginning to cramp up a little in the awkward position.

“Okay you get down, I’ll make a break for the bathroom, say all this moving around made me need to pee or something, and then we meet up again on the patio and pretend this never happened?” he said and you nodded quickly.

You began to lift your body weight up and remove your legs from the tangle you were stuck in, and that’s when the hammock reared it’s ugly head for the final time. As you lifted your leg slowly, you accidedntally got your foot stuck in the side of the fabric, and pinned there but still moving, the hammock toppled and spat both of you out unceremoniously.

Reid landed ontop of you with a hard thud. You let out a sweet curse, just as Reid pushed his body weight onto his hands, taking some of the pressure off of you after the fall. You stared up into his eyes as you realised you’d found yourself in yet another compromising situation and you deepeded to a scarlet red as you realised your sundress had blown up completely in your descent, and he was now neatly nestled in between your legs, with your damp underwear on display for him.

Looking down at you, he took a beat too long to react, and you squirmed under his gaze, feeling appropriately trapped, before he sprung up and offered you a hand up.

You took his hand and rearranged your dress, thankful that the smell of the food had distracted everyone from your embarrassing fall.

“Okay, we’re out.” You were flustered and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Yep, that was certainly one way to do it,” Reid replied, as you avoided his gaze. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and he made to do so similarly, trying his best to rearrange himself so the bulge in his pants wasn’t so noticeable.

“You should get to the bathroom.”

“You should get to the food.” He retorted and you finally made to move, but stopped yourself turning around quickly to face the man again.

“Before I go,” you said and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his mouth, feeling as giddy as a teenager braving her first kiss. You turned away just as fast and made your way back to the party, leaving a flustered and spluttering Reid behind as you made a beeline for the food.

“So, what’d you think of the hammock?” Rossi asked you as you began loading your plate up. You put on your best poker face and begged noone had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“You were right. That thing is dangerous,” was your only response, and you retreated into the corner to finish your food. You sat there waiting eagerly for Reid to return, not just so you could be in his presence again and see how he was reacting to your kiss, but also so you could get the image of him dealing with his situation out of your mind.

It seemed that being a tease and working him up hadn’t quite ended so well for you that day.

You blamed the hammock.

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

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[heartthrobin]

please love me, like the wave does the shore

aaron hotchner x female!reader

wc: 7.9k

warnings: fake!dating, SO much pining, mentions of murder, only one bed, Hotch is very whipped lol, this is so cliché it should be a crime

an: the moment y’all have been waiting for! i hope you kids enjoy! this will probably become a lil series so stay tuned for part 2 :)

summary: murders along the glistening white coast of Cape Cod was not a good look for anybody. especially not the BAU. the case needs a turn around, a big break, but most importantly: a Mr and Mrs.

Portraits of grinning faces watched you from the whiteboard.

Women’s eyes twinkling. Husband’s grinning to the camera. At their wedding, in the woods during a camping trip, on a birthday.

"We have fucking nothing!"

Names and dates lined the edges of what used to be treasured memories in red marker. Memories each couple was not around to remember anymore.

"We have the profile." Hotch's voice was stern. It made the hair on your arms stand on end.

Outside, the ocean crashed loudly against the shore. Seagulls gabbled in the distance near the dock.

"You know that's not enough."

Chatham was one of the most influential and wealthy suburbs in Cape Cod, if not the whole state. Discovering strung out bodies on the crisp white beaches almost five times that month wasn't fitting for the shoreline that housed some of the most elaborate mansions in the county.

The BAU had been in Cape Cod for nearly three weeks. Two weeks too long in the bureau's opinion: a view shared by the team.

Derek slammed his hand loudly against the white board, over a photo of a tall, cream, wood-boarded resort sprawled over the edge of the coast. Seagull's Rest: Couples Retreat and Spa.

"Seagull's Rest is the only place that connects them.” He huffed, pressing his finger into the printed photo. “Every day that passes is another honeymooning couple that's in danger."

Emily sighed somewhere behind you. David lingered by the edge of the desk where Spencer was driving his eyes over some Greek mythology textbook, working the human sacrifice angle he’d been insistent on sharing with you over coffee that morning.

Police chatter busied the space between you and the other agents.

"Morgan," you pressed, "we have no idea what that even means. It could be maids, spa staff ... for all we know, it could even be other guests."

The room was warm, bright: through the window you could overlook the ocean. A scene too beautiful to deserve the blood painted across it’s portrait.

Nights dissolved into mornings at the sheriff's station. Coffee mugs finding purchase in the maze of photos, medical reports, staff lists: all leading back to the one place all four couples were spending their vacation.

"You know what this means, don't you?" David's voice carried over from behind you. You turned to face him, his gaze set hard upon Hotch's.

The team leader's jaw was tight.

He looked like he was considering David's words closely, sucking in a breath like it hurt him to do so.

Emily's chair squeaked where she leaned forward in it, "What is he talking about?"

Hotch's narrow eyes turned to face the team again. "We need to go in. Work the case from the inside."

"Undercover?" You probed, jaw loosening in surprise.

The team hadn't worked an undercover project in almost two years. Everyone understood that they were a last resort, when general good-old detective work wasn't doing the trick.  

Hotch nodded stiffly.

"We're gonna need a couple to go in. Two of us. The pair has to match the preference of the unsub."

There was a heavy quiet before a collective understanding, a collective resignation.

"Fine." Derek nodded. He turned to face the board again. "The husbands, what are we looking for?"

"Alpha males, domineering personalities." David lifted a photo off the desk, examining it closer. "All high-power careers, wealthy. They have a handle on these women. Other couple's in the course with them reported the husband being out of touch, unaffectionate."

Spencer rose to stand, "But no specific physical traits. Unlike the women, they share a specific appearance: the hair, the height, the body shape. They all look like—"

Cold passed over your whole body from the highest point on your head. Like ice water had flooded your shoes.

"Like me."

Teeth sunk into the corner of your lip, the metal taste of blood nipped at your tongue.

It was impossible not to feel the weight of the team’s gaze, how they flickered quickly between where you sat and the photos against the board.

Spencer shrugged, nodding slowly. "Yes, like you."

You chuckled softly, missing most of the humor in the situation as you sunk further back into your chair. "I guess that's settled then."

It wouldn't be your first time working undercover, but you couldn’t say you were as experienced as your colleagues.

You'd joined the BAU last, working every possible hour and chasing down every possible lead to try stay in one of the most coveted positions at the bureau.

It definitely wasn't the easiest thing you’d ever done.

Yes, the team was welcoming - Emily worked hard to make you feel at home, empathizing with you about the difficulty of transitioning into such a team: a team that knows each other's every move and every thought before they themselves have moved or thought - and Spencer was always a friendly face.

Derek was considerate and David was a genius in the line of duty, a marvel to watch work.

What really made it difficult, was Hotch.

In the beginning, he was wary of you. You could feel him lingering when you worked, every decision you made or observation you gathered was held under the magnifying glass of Aaron Hotchner.

With time, he eased up. Trusted you with more, scrutinized over less.

It was then that the next - considerably more concerning - problem began, when you began to miss having his presence over your shoulder.

When your eyes began to linger over his hands where they rested on his holster, or fixate quietly when he brought that steaming morning mug to his lips - sipping oh, so gently.

You were so sure he'd kiss with the same tenderness. The thought kept you up at night.

The feelings you so embarrassingly held for your boss were pushed deep into the corners of your brain.

You felt secure in the knowledge that you acted as casual as possible. Nobody had mentioned anything, and the thought of Hotch ever catching even an inkling of an idea would be enough to never walk back into BAU headquarters ever again.

The only person who really knew anything was Emily.

It had slipped after a drunken night out, on the couch in her apartment, your fat tears staining her blouse: "he's so fucking hot I can't do this!"

And there he was. Silhouette dark against the cast of the sunlight through the window, looking down at you from his towering height. "You're sure you're ready for this?"

His voice wrapped carefully around your throat and you almost choked on its softness.

You coughed instead. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He nodded once, turning back to Derek. "The male?"

Derek shook his head, "Rossi and I went over there a couple days ago to question the owners. They know we're FBI."

The room turned to Spencer, who blinked big hazel eyes at the room innocuously.

You did little to suppress the giggle that bubbled out from your chest. Your heart knocked loudly when you felt Hotch's eyes flicker over his shoulder back at you.

"You wanna be our dominant alpha, Reid?" Emily's lips tugged into a playful grin, clicking the end of her pen loudly.

Soft laughter permeated the room, David knocked Spencer’s shoulder teasingly.

Spencer flushed a light pink, his gaze finding purchase at the open space between his two feet. "Yes. Very funny."

It took more than a few seconds for you to realize that without Spencer, there stood only one other possible candidate.

Your eyes climbed the length of Hotch's long black blazer sleeve. When you reached the top you found him already looking at you. You shivered.

"I suppose that means it’s me then."

Purposefully avoiding his gaze, you found Emily staring right at you - a grin curling up at the corners of her mouth.

"Mr and Mrs Hotchner." David chirped, a mischievous edge to his words. "Congratulations."

You managed to squeak out a sarcastic "thanks Rossi" but Hotch stayed quiet. It made you want to sink into the crevice of your desk chair.

Instead, he turned back to Spencer.

"Get Garcia on the line. She needs to set up aliases and get us registered for the next couple's course as soon as possible."

Spencer nodded once before disappearing into the next room wordlessly.

Next, he turned to you - sucking all the breath out your lungs.

God, he made it so hard to act normal when he showed up in that fucking suit and that perfectly professional haircut.

"I want you to go over the backgrounds of the women again. Get a feel for the unsub's preference, there may be a personality type that he likes best. I'll do the same with the men." You nodded, going to stand and finding yourself always just a little too far from his chest.

"While we're away, the rest of you need to work off the intel we feed. Let's solve this before there's more bodies."

Agents began moving in every direction: out the door, back towards boxes of evidence, but Emily crossed the room to you: eyes wide and alight with mischief.

She grabbed your hand, pulling you from the room and leaving Hotch behind. "This is going to be so fucking good."

Your stomach churned.

-

Just shy of two days later, you found yourself sitting in the front seat of a Mercedes Benz - god knows the bureau has its ways - only two streets down from Shellshore drive, where tucked into the curve sat Seagull's Rest: the beautiful lodge on the Cape Cod coast that offered couple's courses for new and old marriages that delve into the depths of the soul and connect partners in love and touch.

At least that's what the pamphlet said as it stared up at you from your lap.  

It sat at the top of the stack of case files, documents and photos hidden beneath. You pulled out the ID from the midst of the stack.

The photo you'd taken the previous afternoon glimmered up at you: Mrs Eleanor Thompson.

With less than a couple inches of space dividing you, in the driver's seat, sat Hotch.

Penelope was talking over the car speaker.

"I signed you guys up for the Honeymooner's Retreat. It's six days long, but I'm sure you'll be out by then. There are five other couples doing this course with you, you'll find their names in the documents I sent. All their records are clean."

"Garcia, I want you to cross reference all the course instructors with anybody who has—"

Hotch's voice faded from your surroundings, your brain stuttering electrically as your eyes raked over his outfit.

A tight fit black polo that was hugging his chest and chino pants begging for relief over those long thighs.

The last two days had been painful.

You'd slept almost nothing: tossing and turning for hours over the idea that you'd soon be in much closer proximity to Aaron Hotchner than you'd ever been. Too close.

Emily had tried to calm you down, "just ... focus on the case, okay? whatever happens happens."

It was easy for her to say.

Her legs didn't liquify every time Hotch sent small praise her way, like they did on you, and she didn’t have flashing images of taking care of him in the way he never does himself plague her in the small moments of quiet throughout her day.

Making him breakfast, or taking his blazer off after a long case ... undoing the buttons down his shirt—

"They're expecting you for check in at five o clock."

Your eyes found the digital clock on the dashboard, it blinked red at you: 16:47

"Thank you Garcia."

"Yeah," you added quickly, "Thanks Garcia."

"Good luck lovebirds." The teasing lilt in her voice did nothing to calm the high power washing machine your stomach had transformed to.

Heat rushed over your face.

You could feeling Hotch watching you from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?"

Sliding your stack of pages into the Louis Vutton handbag at your feet, you forced a smile to press up into your lips.

"To marry you, Hotch?" You feigned a soft sigh, "I've only waited all my life."

The bubbling in your stomach simmered only slightly when Hotch rolled his eyes, what was almost a smile teasing at his lips. "I'll take that as a yes."

The car rumbled to a start beneath you, the expensive engine purring.

"We know what to look for. Keep your eyes on the guests, the instructors, anybody we interact with."

It was hard to focus on Hotch's advice when his wide hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

But you nodded anyways.

It felt like less than a few seconds before the car was being pulled into a luxurious white cobblestone driveway. A sign etched in ivory-coloured wood overhead marked the road: Welcome to Seagull’s Rest.

Bellboys stood in the distance under a grand arched entrance in cream uniforms, luxury cars stretched out in every direction of the parking lot.

The car rumbled to a stop. A valet attendant was already approaching before you’d even a second to gather what was left of your courage.

Hotch turned to you, slow and deliberate as was his manner, leaning precariously over the console. "Remember, we're being watched."

The door opened abruptly on your side, you glanced up to meet the face of the young man holding open the door. He couldn't be older than twenty.

He smiled. "Good afternoon and welcome to the Seagull's Rest."

Your eyes flickered back as Hotch climbed out from the other side, you smiled up at the boy before lifting the end of the olive-green sundress you'd been coerced into wearing and stepped out.

Hotch had rounded the car before you'd even straightened out. He tossed the keys at the attendant.

You were taken aback by how quickly he could escape his usually impeccable manners.

"Be careful with the luggage. There's things in there worth twelve times your salary."

You sucked in a sharp breath when he took your hand into his, sliding his fingers between yours. His palm was pressed so firmly you thought you might collapse.

He made matters worse when he cleared his throat loudly, "Come on, honey, let's go."

The reception was a bright open room, preceded by a tall oak arch, and a high ceiling loomed over the expensive wood of the front desk.

A small framed woman stood behind it, smiling as you approached. "Good afternoon, welcome to Seagull's Rest."

Hotch only nodded curtly in greeting, pulling you abruptly up against his side so that his hand wrapped over your waist. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your heart thumping hysterically against your ribs.

"James and Eleanor Thompson." He grumbled, "We're here for the Honeymooner's Retreat."

"Of course sir, if I could see some identification please?"

Hotch slid over the two fake ID's and the woman began to tap away at the computer.

Your eyes slid up to the view from the window beyond the desk, how the sun was almost setting over the ocean visible through the crystal-clear window.

Unsure if it was driven by purpose or simply instinct, your arms snaked up to rest around Hotch's hips, letting your head lull against the side of his chest just softly.

His chest swelled. You tried not to read into it.

"Baby," it took a moment, presumable for Hotch to realize you were referring to him, but he hummed in response, not looking down at you.

"Hm?"

You motioned to the window, "Look how beautiful it is. You couldn't have chosen a better spot."

Instead of Hotch, the woman at the front desk spoke in response.

"We boast one of the best spots along our coast. The morning yoga sessions are spectacular if that's something you enjoy, and we have cocktail evening tonight at our restaurant on the beach." Her voice dripped in sugar, sliding the two ID's and the keycard to the room back over the counter.

"That sounds wonderful—"

Hotch's stern voice pierced through your own, "Yes, well, we'll see."

The woman - Leslie, as her tag suggested - glanced carefully between Hotch and yourself. She offered you a quietly sympathetic look before meeting Hotch's face again.

"Y-Yes, of course sir."

You stayed quiet after that, allowing her to direct James and Eleanor to their room. Second floor at the end of the hallway.

Hotch huffed dramatically, grabbing the cards from the desk.

His hand slid from your waist and you almost had enough time to mourn the loss of his warmth against your side before that large hand wove itself back between yours - simultaneously warming and chilling every blood vessel in your body.

Hotch pulled you in the direction of the elevator. Nothing was said between you, only the swish of your dress and the heavy step of his leather shoes against the floors.

You two followed the corridor as instructed, gaze flickering curiously up to your fake husband every few moments before your interest caught the better of you.

"You're a little too good at playing the asshole, James." Your hand squeezed gently against his, "Something you want to tell me?"

He shook his head, "Nothing comes to mind."

The luggage was already waiting at the foot of the bed when Hotch pushed the door open, allowing you to step in first.

A gasp escaped you.

The room had to be the most exquisite thing you’d seen in all your life.

It was lined in crisp white and cream decor, a velvet couch along the one wall and a sprawling balcony that overlooked the ocean - the sound of the waves filling every crevice of the space.

There was a thud and you turned to find Hotch opening his briefcase, pulling out the neatly packed pressed shirts that lay within.

"Hotch—"

Quicker than it took you to blink in fright, Hotch's hand closed over your mouth. He shook his head, tapping his ear. "Wires." He mouthed.

You nodded quickly, feeling stupid.

His hand dropped and embarrassment flushed hot over your neck. You looked away from him.

This wasn't a holiday and Hotch wasn't your husband.

Eight people were dead.

Unease burnt at your chest, the same kind that had been building with every passing day and every piling body. You moved in silent to unpack your own handbag where you'd placed your files.

Hotch watched you carefully, as you leaned over the bag - silhouette forming against the red and purple tones of the picturesque sky behind you.

He stared a little longer than necessary, capturing the view to his mind.

It was something he found himself doing too often. Whenever he could find a moment, an excuse. His gaze would linger on your frame, your face.

When your fingers would twitch against your necklace or when you laughed a little too loudly for the Quantico office when Spencer told his terrible, very specifically not funny jokes.

But he was Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief, and nothing if not the epitome of professionalism.

He planted himself far enough from the line to where he could go about his day and pretend like he didn't lose sleep at night thinking about you.

"James, did you pack the charger?" Your voice was loud, but wavered slightly. You didn't look up to his face as you usually did.

Hotch tried to convince himself that he didn’t notice.

"Yes, honey, it's in the side pocket."

There was no charger and definitely no need to ask about one besides making casual conversation in the case that wires tapped the room.

Reminded of the very real circumstance, Hotch abandoned the shirts on the bed to move around the room.

Behind him you were doing the same.

He lifted lamp shades, checked under drawers, desks and the headboard for any listening device that could have been planted before they came in.

You shuffled around behind the television stand and at the railings of the curtain before slipping into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes passed in silence before Hotch climbed back to his feet from where he was crouched down under the bed frame.

"We should be in the clear." He announced to you where you still occupied the bathroom.

"Check what I found." You emerged, sundress flittering around your ankles.

He cursed the sway of the material. Somehow you'd arrived in that green dress to the sheriff's station and it had made every nerve connecting his body to his brain turn fuzzy and the man of steel that was Aaron Hotchner was having a harder time than usual keeping his eyes to himself.

You waved a white envelope at him, "It was stuck to the window."

Hotch took it from you, it was addressed to a Mr and Mrs Thompson.

"That's us." He muttered, finger sliding to break its seal.

You stood against his side, close enough to read the letter where he slid it out but also just close enough to make Hotch's head spin from the waft of your perfume.

Good afternoon Mr J and Mrs E Thompson,

We welcome you to Seagull's Rest and want to thank you for choosing to participate in our Honeymooner's Retreat. The next few days will work to strengthen the bond of love and trust between any new married couple, and of course up the intimacy!

Tonight we will be hosting a champagne evening where you will be afforded the opportunity to meet the couples that you'll be spending the next six days with.

Meet us at the Pelican Perch Restaurant on floor 1 at six o clock. We look forward to meeting you!

Kindly, Seagull Rest Staff.

The page crinkled beneath his fingers.

"This is perfect." He muttered, looking sideways at you. "It'll give us a chance to see the unsub in a social environment if he's here."

The unknown subject (unsub) was clarified before you and Hotch had left the station that morning.

David's voice still rung in his ears:

"Someone who is calm and casual in social settings, easy to get along with but holds a position that allows people to trust them. It's what he uses to lure two people at a time to their deaths."

You glanced up at the antique clock on the wall hanging above the television. "That means we should leave soon."

Hotch nodded, "Leave the packing, we'll do that when we get back."

The sun was disappearing behind the glittering ocean surface when the door shut behind you and Hotch again.

His hand slipped down over your wrist before sliding into your grasp, between your fingers and over your knuckles.

Hotch could spend all night convincing himself that holding your hand was imperative to maintaining your cover because you were married and that was in the best interest of the case, but it would still do little to calm the way his heart began to beat from his throat when your grip tightened gently around his.

You made small talk on the walk down to the restaurant, as any couple would.

Mentioning the spa and the interior designs of the glamorous hallways you passed on the walk down to the Pelican Perch restaurant on the water.

The views of the lodging was almost nothing compared to when you two walked under the green vine archway into the restaurant.

Hotch heard your little gasp beside him and was sure it made his heart grow two sizes.

Above your heads hung a glittering maze of white fairy lights overviewing a large wooden floor with tables set in every corner. The bar glittered with bottles of every colour, size and shape that lined the shelves and the wide stacking doors were opened out onto the shoreline.

A soft jazz played and near the center of the room, ten chairs were stacked in a semi-circle around a small podium.

"This is so beautiful." You whispered, almost so soft he didn't hear it.

He looked down at you, enamored by the way the lights reflected off your eyes and your lips were parted in surprise.

"It is." But his eyes never left you.

Already, three or four couples had taken seats, keening over each other as if they two were the only people in the room.

It was almost six. Hotch tugged your hand gently in the direction of the expensive looking chairs, leaning down close to your ear: "Keep your eyes on the people."

You giggled as if he'd said something naughty, putting on a good show for the surrounding guests before leaning down to sit.

The lull of the music in the room almost convinced you that it was all real.

That as you sat and Hotch settled his arm over your thighs, pulling you close against him: that it was because he wanted, not needed, to be there.

Your eyes flickered over the people, a man and a woman were ushering people to take their seats and a tall thin waiter was sauntering around with a tray of champagne glasses.

You took two from his tray, handing the other to Hotch. He gave you a look to remind you to be careful, you could practically hear him chiding "remember, we're on the job."

The champagne was as close to velvet as you'd ever tasted, sliding down your throat far too easily as the man and woman took to the podium in front of you.

The room quietened.

"Good evening to all our lovely young couples!" The man's voice was smooth, warm.

He was older, every spit of hair from his body a stark shining white. The woman was the same, they matched the decor of the resort in the cream beach sets they adorned.

Wrinkles crinkled around her eyes when she smiled, "We're so glad to have you with us. Thirty years ago, we opened the Seagull's Rest to help any couple who felt they needed a place to connect with nature and each other, and since then it's become not only a home to us - but a home to every couple who steps through our doors."

You met Hotch's eye. Owners.

Laurie and Howard Ralph. The founders of the Seagull's Rest.

Howard spoke again: "every class is taught by a qualified, friendly and helpful instructor to make you feel safe in what Laurie and I like to call the education of love."

You'd seen their photos in files and on your tablet, somehow they looked even more pretentious in person.

While you knew you weren't looking for an unsub team, their demeanors didn't put them completely out of range for being possibly responsible.

At least that's as far as your brain could conjure up with Hotch's wide thumb rubbing circles into the side of your thigh - a motion you weren’t entirely convinced he realized he was making.

"We'd like to start off the evening with a few introductions, just to break the ice between you."

They were looking down the line of people, pointing to a Hispanic couple closest to the edge. "How about you two? Tell us your names, where you're from, how you met and your favourite thing about your partner."

The man stuttered, looking to his wife for support. She smiled up at him and you couldn't help the momentary swooping ache to have somebody to look at in that warm, soft way.

"Well I'm Alice and this is my husband Marco." She patted him fondly on the chest, "We're from New York."

"We met when we were kids, we lived next door to each other for fifteen years." The husband was a shyer speaker, but his adoration for his wife leaked through his words. "Before she left for college I asked her to be my girlfriend. The rest is history, I guess."

Laurie and Howard smiled plastically, like the grin was surgically attached there.

"That's lovely, and your favourite thing about one another?" Laurie pressed, before adding, "Remember ladies and gentlemen, this experience is about making yourself vulnerable to each other and to yourself!"

"I love how he can make me feel brand new after a terrible day."

"I love the way she knows me in little ways that nobody else does."

Slowly, the couples spoke down the line.

You were introduced to the Taylors, the Andersons, the Fletchers, the Schmidts.

As the line drew shorter, your breath grew faster.

Of course you knew your story, you'd had it drilled into your brain for the last two days, but your favourite thing about Hotch?

No, you corrected yourself, not Hotch. James.

Your brain fished for a lie, dipping past the bundles of things you loved about Hotch that could so easily be picked from the bush.

But would it be so out of line to admit something honest, something he'd never even realize was true?

Eyes fell on you.

Hotch cleared his throat, his grip over your thigh tightened.

"We're the Thompsons. I'm James  and this is Eleanor. We're from Colorado."

His voice was strong, stern. Someone who didn't know Hotch might say it was how he always sounded, but there he held a jagged edge to his tone. "We met at—"

"Woah, woah," Howard interrupted, chuckling nervously. "James, you're running a bit away with us here. Why don't you let your wife tell us how you met?"

Hotch mustered the audacity to look affronted. "Alright."

You fought hard to suppress a laugh. Hotch was an abnormally good actor.

He turned to you, "Darling?"

You sighed, practically scribbling ditzy airhead over your forehead and lifting a hand to fiddle with the buttons on his polo, "Well, I met James in my last year at college—"

"Screwing the professor, very classy."

The whisper came from somewhere to your left and surprised you.

It was soft enough that you were sure Howard and Laurie hadn't heard.

The look on Hotch's face, however, proved that he had. He'd grown completely stiff under your hand.

You fought to regain composure, "H-He was working at a law firm that I was doing an internship at. It was love at first sight, right baby?" You patted his chest slowly.

He nodded, eyes darting anywhere but you.

The owners nodded, urging you to continue. "That's beautiful."

You looked up, met with the side of Hotch's face - he didn't look like he was going to speak first.

"My favourite thing about James is ..." your mind flickering between some cliché or just spitting out what you really wanted to. "The way he looks out for me. Always makes sure I'm safe, even if it's risking himself."

It was mild enough to pass off for just a casual comment but nearly specific enough that if he knew how you felt that he'd catch on.

He pulled his gaze from where it was fixated on the foot of the podium, sinking it into yours and making the room feel suddenly ten degrees warmer.

"My favourite thing about Eleanor is her laugh."

It was short and sweet and deep down you really hoped it was laced in truth.

By the time you looked away from your partner, the introductions had already moved down a couple. Judging by the way the tall blonde woman who'd just announced herself as Jade Atkins was staring at you, you could already gage that she'd been the one to make the professor comment.

You could still feel Hotch's anger radiating off of him. He was hard, tense and his jaw was set tightly.

Hotch was older than you, sure. You knew that.

It was one of the things that assured - plagued - you that he would never reciprocate your feeling.

He was mature and worldly, handsome in a way no man you knew could even remotely compare.

You were younger, not that much, but still. Enough that you could be looked at sideways by stuck-up bitches like Jade Atkins.

You knew you'd never be afforded a chance ... but then why did Hotch look so angry?

He knew he was older, but he also had to know that he left a trail of swooning women wherever he went?

"James ..." you whispered.

He looked quickly down at you, clearly of the impression that it was enough of a response.

"What's wrong?"

The word looked like they hurt forcing itself from his mouth. "Nothing."

You bit the corner of your bottom lip slowly, turning over his response in your mind.

Before you could find the sense to stop yourself, you reached up and took Hotch's jaw into your grasp, pulling it down closer to your face.

Following hesitantly until he was practically leaning over, you whispered into his ear: "ignore her, she just wishes her husband wasn't a cheating alcoholic."

You pressed a warm peck against his upper cheek, close to his eye and pretended that the brush of his almost-there stubble didn't make your heart swoop down into your stomach.

Letting go, Hotch straightened out again. He looked calmer, almost like he could smile.

His eyes flickered over the man, taking in his form. It took him a moment before he whispered back, "You're right."

Within a couple minutes, the last of the couples finished their introductions and the Ralph's were speaking again.

"Thank you all, again, for coming. Please, spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, enjoying more of our champagne—"

"Imported straight from France!" Howard interjected and the couples laughed sporadically,

"—and savor the rest of your week."

Around you, couples rose from their seats. You detangled yourself from Hotch and did the same.

Initially, you had the full intention of floating around the room together, connected at the arm to analyze the guests quietly.

However, almost immediately, the women had dissected from their husbands to form a small group by the balcony.

The men had done the same, converging near the bar.

Blinking in surprise, you look up to Hotch for further instruction.

He nods towards the women, "You should go join them."

Your face crinkled in reluctance, "Don't make me go over there, James ... our friend isn't even supposed to be a woman."

Amusement was alight in his brown eyes, but his mouth remained a thin line.

"Then," he almost made you jump when his wide hand closed softly over your cheek, dragging the side of his thumb down your face, "go enjoy the company. I'll focus on the men."

Sparked by Hotch's warm touch, slightly dizzy on it, you nodded softly before turning to the women.

It was cool out on the balcony and the women greeted when you joined the circle.

You took a long gulp from your second glass of champagne, listening only half-committed to Patricia Anderson's story about their new condo on the Los Angeles beachfront.

"So, Eleanor was it?"

Recognizing the voice as the one who'd whispered brashly behind you not more than twenty minutes previously, you turned to the woman.

Your grip tightened around your champagne glass.

"Yes. Jenna, right?"

The woman gathered the nerve to look affronted, her tennis skirt swayed with the breeze over long bronzed legs.

"Jade, actually. Jade Atkins." She cleared her throat, "My husband is Richard Atkins, he owns all the Sonja Hotels north of the equator, I'm sure you've heard of him."

Another woman - Anne Schmidt - indulged her. "That's amazing, Elijah and I stayed there a couple months ago in Switzerland."

Jade nodded, looking proud, but seemingly intent on swerving the conversation your way.

"Speaking of husbands, yours is quite the catch isn't he?" The chatter of the other women dimmed slightly, the wives sensing the change of direction.

Taking another necessarily big gulp of your champagne, you nodded. "Indeed."

"He's very handsome ... how did you manage to tie him down?"

Her words dripped in condescension.

"Just got lucky, what can I say?"

Jade nodded, twisting a long golden strand between her fingers. Heat was beginning to curl at your cheeks.

"And he's so much older," she laughed airily, lifting her glass to sip at her drink, "but I guess that life insurance money makes him all the more attractive, hey?"

"Oh definitely. He also got a huge penis which helps."

Jade choked loudly around her glass and the women around you burst into fits of high-pitched laughter.

"Don't mind her," Imani Taylor pulled you aside, "All the Botox has gone to her brain."

You smiled kindly at her.

"So a lawyer you said, what's that like?"

Across the room, Hotch was sitting through a similar game of verbal tennis.

A circus of who's car is newer, bigger, better, who's company makes more money or sells more stocks.

He doubted he'd ever been so bored. That's maybe why his eyes flickered so often to where you were talking animatedly with a short woman in a hijab.

A heavy hand against his shoulder sucked him back into the conversation.

A sandy-topped man who Hotch quickly identified as Elijah Schmidt was patting him boyishly, "Don't worry about the girl, Thompson."

He didn't love the idea of you being referred to as girl but said nothing on it.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head vaguely. "Got to keep on eye on them. She can barely feed herself most days, only knows how to spend my money and crash my cars."

The words were bitter, like hot bile on his tongue but he insisted on maintaining a mutual expression. Nobody promised that playing an asshole was going to be any fun.

A handful of the men grimaced at his comment, while the rest just tutted offhandedly.

While the men were far from the nicest he'd met, in the couple minutes he'd spent with them, Hotch was almost sure that his unsub was not among them.

Despite most of their more than patchy backgrounds - mostly corporate scuffles, dug up by Garcia - none of them spoke with the ease that the suspect needed to have, the charisma and the trustworthy character. Hotch's  energy was better placed elsewhere.

"Barely feed herself?" A gravelly chuckle filled the space, "Sure doesn't look like it."

Hotch's eyes narrowed on the short bald man laughing to himself, glancing over to where you stood across the room - a fat cigar between his fingers.

He recognized him as the man who sat with the woman who'd commented when you spoke. Richard Atkins.

Turning his whole body to the man, towering over his structure, Hotch's face twisted - his stomach contents boiling hot at the comment.

"I beg your pardon?"

Pulling at the cigar, the end lighting up, the man shrugged. "Just saying, y'know, she doesn't look like she's skipped a meal anytime recently—"

The expression curling onto Hotch's face must've been cause for alarm, if not the way his fist tightened at his side, because almost immediately two other men stepped in.

One at Richard's side,  "Hey, hey, Richard, that's enough man."

The other patting Hotch's shoulder, "Thompson ... he's had a couple drinks, just let him go."

Richard seemed to find the situation amusing because he was chortling still to himself. "Of course, of course. My bad, just locker-room talk you know. No harm, no foul."  

Seething white anger was tugging on every muscle in his body, and he fought hard to maintain composure - taking a cautionary step towards Richard Atkins.

"I'd watch how you talk about my wife if I were you. Otherwise we're going to have a problem."

Atkins only huffed, turning back to his friend and his cigar. The conversations started up again around him, but Hotch had lost interest.

His wrist watch told him they'd been standing there for almost an hour.

Cleaning out the bottom of his glass, he set it down on the nearest table before excusing himself, offering handshakes and a couple shoulder pats before moving towards the women.

A handful of men followed him, clearly keen to leave as well.

He found you by the railing, laughing gently at something the woman across from you said.

Hotch's arm slid over your waist from behind, dipping his head closer to your ear: "ready to go?"

You nodded, offering a quick goodbye to the woman and some others.

The walk back to the room was quicker than he remembered, or maybe it was the light buzz of champagne against the side of his head and how you were humming something that sounded like Etta James that made it feel too fast.

On return, the prospect of unpacking awaited.

"Anyone interesting among the husbands?" You asked from across the room, lifting shirts and dresses to stack into the open cupboard.

Hotch shook his head, dislodging the secret compartment at the bottom of his suitcase where the case files had been hidden. "The unsub isn't one of them. They're all, for lack of a better word, assholes. Nobody trustworthy enough to follow to your death."

You chuckled lightly, "The women were alright. Except for this one woman, that one who whispered that rubbish when we introduced ourselves."

Hotch's stomach turned at the thought of the woman's words. Screwing the professor, really classy.

The implication on your character made his blood boil.

"Let me guess, Atkins?"

You nodded, "How'd you know?"

"Her husband's a real piece of work too. I'm gonna find something to arrest him for before the end of the week."

Your giggle permeated the space and it worked to ease the knot in Hotch's stomach.

"Don't be so dramatic, James." You draped a towel over your arm, "Mind if I grab the shower first?"

"Of course." Hotch nodded, desperately trying to fan out the image that was quickly rendering in his mind of you in the shower. "I'm gonna phone Garcia."

The bathroom door clicked behind you and you sighed into the emptiness of the room.

You took your time showering, enjoying how the hot water eased the tension over your shoulders, before drying off and slipping into the most appropriate pair of pajamas you'd brought along.

It took some convincing to let yourself pack the silk shorts and tank top, after all: you would be sharing a room with your boss.

Quickly after you'd walked back into the room, Hotch had slipped into the bathroom himself with a towel and pair of pajamas hanging over his arm.

Images of all the people you'd met that very evening sifted through your mind like a deck of cards, flipping through them and filtering the ones you knew couldn't be involved.

The spray of the shower was loud and your mind reached precariously for an image of what Hotch looked like under the fancy head in the shower that had more than enough space for two ... how the hot water was probably gliding over his long strong arms, down his chest and through the happy trail at the base of his stomach leading down towards—

The water shut off and silence echoed across the room.

You heard shuffling behind the door, wondered quietly what he could be doing, but pulled your eyes back to the case file.

The list of connections between the victims and current guests were numerous, too many to be significant as people in this wealth category generally moved in similar groups.

The door clicked open.

"Put that away, you should get some sleep."

"I—" You looked up to meet Hotch's eye and almost swallowed your tongue.

His hair was still wet, drooping over his forehead in a way you'd never seen before, and his blue t-shirt stuck to his chest with dampness. He wore plaid shorts that exposed those long legs that had been so criminally hidden beneath his usual suit pants.

He looked so ... domestic, and it set every nerve ending in your body alight.

"I ... yes, boss. Was just looking." You set the file on the bedside table.

He nodded at you, a warm look on his face. "Want you well rested for tomorrow."

There was a short silence and the look cleared from his features to be replaced by another.

Hotch's eyes flickered between the bed and the couch, and for the first time in more than a while, a look of unsureness occupied his face.

"I ... I think I'll take the couch."

Your heart sunk.

"Why?" The question chased its way out of your mouth before you could reach to snatch it.

"I don't wanna make you ... uncomfortable, considering I'm your superior."

"I mean, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us, Hotch." You stammered, desperate to be close to him. "It's probably gonna be painful to sleep on that couch anyways."

He hesitated.

"U-Unless you think it's weird, you can sleep on the couch it's fine." You wished you could sink into the sheets and disappear.

But to your surprise, Hotch nodded.

The bed sunk on his side as he lifted the covers, as close to the edge as he could from what you could see.

His head hit the pillow before he leaned over to flick off the light, you took it as a sign to do the same.

There was quiet for a long moment.

The door to the balcony was open, it was just too hot to close it, and the breeze curled over the sheets, wafting the smell of Hotch's shower gel into your face.

It took all you had within you not to sigh loudly and dig your face into his neck.

You thought the conversation had closed for the evening, but Hotch surprised you when his voice emerged from the darkness.

"You did well today. I know you were nervous."

A smile tugged at your lips. He could read you better than you thought he could.

"You've got a lot more practice at the husband thing than I do at the wife thing."

You could almost see the outline of his face against the light of the moon.

"Well, I hope this wife ends up better than the last one."

The memory of finding Hotch's ex-wife's body came starkly into view.

"O-Oh, Hotch." Your hand came to your face in embarrassment, "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have—"

"Hey, hey," he stopped you, "it's my fault. It was a bad joke, I shouldn't have made it."

You couldn't help the small giggle that escaped you, "I've never heard you freestyle a joke before, Hotch."

"Wasn't good?"

"It was terrible." You managed around the now growing laugh.

"And yet you're still laughing. Isn't that the goal?"

You shuffled over in the sheets to face him, even though you couldn't see much - the thought that he lingered there in the darkness comforted you.

"Not at that really bad attempt at a joke, I'm laughing at you."

Maybe it was your imagination, but you swore when the light from the lighthouse flickered quickly over Hotch's face that he was grinning.

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"Come on Hotch, you're telling me you don't have a single good dad joke?"

He was quiet a long moment, and for a second you thought you'd pressed too hard.

"Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?"

Absolutely surprised by the question, you shook your head in the darkness. "Why?"

"Because they're really good at it."

The light from the lighthouse hadn't passed over his face again but now you were sure he was smiling and every muscle in your body twitched to grab his face in the darkness and kiss him until he was oxygen depleted.

"That's the worst joke I've ever heard, Aaron." But you shook with small laughter.

"Worse than the dead wife joke?"

"Okay, maybe not that bad."

Quiet fell again.

"You should go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Fishing for the sheets, you lifted to tuck them under your chin. "Goodnight James."

"Goodnight."

-

Tags:

@montyfandomlove @aurorastuffsstuff @cdizzleswzzlebonzy @pureblood-blake @kad00x @lena-1895 @marimorena06 @farrah-444

[wildflowerluver]

sharing 

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

3 times aaron shares his clothes with you

cw: nsfw mentions, aftercare, bau reader, injury, case details

wc: 1.4k

༺♡༻

suit jacket

aaron hotchner is rarely seen during work hours in anything other than a suit. 

there’s exceptions, of course, such as cases up north where he can be found dressed in jeans and a quarter zip. but then again, how often does the team get sent to a place like alaska. 

the team was sent up to vermont. the suspected unsub lived and hunted in the thick forests which made profiling extremely difficult. days later, when you finally had a suspect, you and the team wasted no time in speeding through the pouring rain to get to his location. 

arriving first, you and morgan shot off running after the unsub who had escaped out of the back of his rural house and into the woods. the team stayed behind to raid the home for one of the missing girls as well as setting up a base camp for the arrest. 

by the time you caught up with morgan who had already apprehended the unsub, you’re soaked from the rain. it doesn’t help that you have to walk up another hill to get back to where you hope the team is.

you’re absolutely drenched and can’t stop shivering. 

the bullet proof vest that sits across your chest has transformed from its normal navy blue to a near black; mud streaks across it to add to the mess.

once you appear in the sight of the team, emily is the one who reaches you and morgan first. 

you’re both a little out of it from a combination of the weather and the chase. her voice is muffled but the hands cupping your cheeks are easy to feel. they’re warm and seem to ground you. 

the warmth you’re feeling is leaving as quick as you registered it. emily’s soft hands are replaced with larger, more calloused ones. ones you know very well; aaron’s.

“honey, are you alright?” his voice is quiet.

it takes you a moment to meet his eyes.

“s’ cold,” you chatter.

aaron takes you being able to respond to that as a win. his expression shifts to relief as he places a tentative hand on your shoulder. “the ambulance is here. we should get you checked out.”

you allow him to guide you over. morgan’s already been cleared which is a good sign.  

the emt’s waste no time in bombarding you with questions. you’re still shivering.

not even thinking twice, aaron slides off his suit jacket to place it on your shoulders. you know you won’t be fully warm until you get out of the clothes that you’re in but the jacket is a kind gesture. 

aaron doesn’t care in the slightest that his jacket is getting wet. you, on the other hand, frown and try to push it back. you know how expensive his work clothes are. they’re the only thing in your shared closet that gets sent to a dry cleaner for special cleaning.

“y/n,” aaron scolds. “please take my jacket.”

you feel like a child at his words. his usual term of endearment had shifted into just your name for emphasis. 

you grumbled quietly before allowing aaron to readjust his jacket over your shoulders. it doesn’t just provide you with warmth from the material, but simply from knowing that it was aaron’s.

he stays seated next to you the entire time. His arm had snaked around your waist to hold you close.

aaron waits until the emt’s successfully clear you and move to check on some of the others before he raises his chin so you meet his eyes. 

he leans down to kiss you gently. it’s short and sweet. you barely have any time to process it before he’s pulling away. 

“all better.”

sweater

the house is slightly chilly when you wake up.

normally you would take this opportunity to roll over and bury yourself into aaron’s chest. he was a personal furnace.

instead of finding aaron beside you, you’re met with an empty bed. his covers are neatly tucked in and his pillow is fluffed. the mattress is cold too, a telltale sign aaron’s been out of bed for quite a bit. 

though tiredness courses throughout you, the urge to find aaron outweighs that. 

you shiver as your feet hit the hardwood floor. the shirt you decided to wear to bed seems like a bad choice. across the room, a grey article catches your eye.

the sweatshirt is soft in your hands once you pick it up. you know it’s aaron’s judging by the print on it. he had a habit of keeping his old college apparel.

the george washington university logo had faded and cracked from years of wear but it smells like aaron. you don’t think twice before sliding it on. 

you pad down the stairs and shuffle into the kitchen in search of your boyfriend. 

the sleeves of aaron’s sweatshirt go a bit past the tips of your fingers and you bring your hands up to your chest.

aaron is by the stove, humming along to the music that plays out of the record player as he cooks breakfast. he’s dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. you have no idea how he isn’t cold though you’re sure he’s planning on building a fire in the fireplace to combat the chill of the blowing snow outside. 

you waste no time in moving forward to wrap your arms around his midsection. your head finds a place between his shoulder blades as you squeeze him a little tighter. 

“good morning,” you smile.

aaron places his spatula to the side and turns the stove down. whatever he’s making can wait. 

he’s turning around to face you. your arms remain around his waist and his move up to cup your cheeks.

aaron moves down to kiss you deeply. your heart beats faster as your lips meet. despite the months of dating, you never get tired of kissing him.

“good morning, honey,” he mumbles against your lips.

aaron’s eyes leave yours and look down at your frame. you bite your lip. 

“is that my sweatshirt?” he asks.

you hide your face in his neck. “maybe,” you mumble. you know he’s not mad but the embarrassment of getting caught makes your face flush.

aaron kisses the crown of your head. 

“i don’t mind. looks much better on you anyway.”

shirt

you’re still breathing hard when your head finally hits the pillow.

aaron takes his time pulling out. you whimper at the empty feeling but he kisses you gently as if to combat the feeling.

“so good for me,” he presses the words into your neck. “so perfect.”

aaron thumbs away a few stray tears, purely from pleasure, that have fallen down your cheeks. your eyes are still a little clouded and aaron notices almost immediately. 

“feeling okay?” he kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and finally your lips.

you nod, face flushing. “more than okay.”

aaron hums. aftercare after sex is one of the most important things to him but he first needed to make sure you were okay.

“c’mon, let's get cleaned up,” aaron snakes an arm around your waist to pull you flush to him. you keep your head in the crook of his neck as he helps you to your feet and into the bathroom.

aaron takes his time with you in the shower. he makes sure the water is just the right temperature before he pulls you in.

his hands are soft as they wash and massage your scalp. he’s mindful of your sensitivity and when you’re done, he wraps you up in a big fluffy white towel. 

“what can i get you?” aaron asks.

“bed,” you mumble, tiredness finally taking over.

aaron kisses your forehead. he squeezes your hip and leaves you to walk over to his drawer. he returns just a moment later with one of his t-shirts in hand.

“arms up,” aaron instructs gently.

you do as you’re told, the soft material concealing your body in the best way possible. the smile on your face tells aaron he made the right choice in his pick of pajamas for you. you can’t help it, there’s something so intimate about sharing clothes with a partner. 

you finally make it back to the bed. the sheets had been changed and the covers are pulled back to make it look extra inviting. 

aaron helps you before sliding in after you. 

you promptly curled into aaron’s side.

“goodnight honey,” he whispered.

you’re asleep before you have the chance to answer.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Masterlist

The Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

You’re Losing Me

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s “You’re Losing Me.” How Finnick loses the best thing he’s ever had.

Haymitch Abernathy

Capitol Punishment Masterlist

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol

I'm Sorry

Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

Luke Castellan

Follow Me

Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.

Delicate

"Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Competing With Gods

When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

The Way I Loved You

"But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

The Final Quest

How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Asshole Instructor

Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Mine

"You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Apollo

Immortal Danger

Apollo marries a half-blood without realizing how dangerous it can be

Immortal Danger II

Despite an extravagant wedding, Apollo is still confronted by those who want to end his marriage

John Wick

Forced Love Masterlist

Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with his boss' daughter.

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner

Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

The BAU Chief isn’t fond of sending his scantily clad wife in as bait

That Skirt

Smutty follow up to Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

I Can’t Leave

When the reader is forced into hiding, she’s desperate to inform her fiancé and his son

Move On

Rossi tells Aaron he should move on

Moving on to You

Aaron finally tells his longtime crush about his feelings when he almost loses her (Sequel to Move On)

Sparring Matches

The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team

Home Sweet Home

Sometimes going home isn’t always a good thing. Especially when your hometown is obsessed with marriage and you have a secret boyfriend.

Spencer Reid

Erotomania

Spencer’s girlfriend has a stalker

Game of Thrones

Sandor Clegane and Robb Stark

Between a Wolf and a Hound I

Sandor Clegane was never naïve enough to think he could marry the king's daughter but it doesn't make it any easier to see her married off.

Between a Wolf and a Hound II

The new Lady of the North tries to cope with the fact that she is now married and has a responsibility to her husband.

Grey’s Anatomy

Mark Sloan

Haunted

Mark finally finds where his wife has been hiding

Twilight

Carlisle Cullen

Sorry to Meet You

The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackerman

Amnesia

When the Levi Squad goes out on a mission with a few rookies, accidents happen

Reiner Braun

Guard

When Reiner returns from his ten year long mission, he is assigned to protect the the woman he could never have.

[marksbear]

Spencer (or Hotch) x male reader where the reader is suspected for the murder of several women, and when the BAU show up to his house he's wearing shorts and a shirt that says "I ❤️ Submissive Men" ?? — ⚰️

I hope you enjoy it! This was pretty funny to write. and plus I do ❤ submissive men.

SPENCER REID X SUSPECT MALE READER

Y/n was brushing his teeth getting ready to start his day when he heard multiple fast footsteps and sounded like muffled shouting.

"What the hell?" Y/n says before quickly hurrying up and walks out the bathroom hella confused.

"1 2 3!" A voice shouts from outside.

Out of nowhere Y/n's front door gets kicked open multiple FBI/cops point their guns at Y/n shouting at him to put his hands in the air and get on the ground. "Hey! What the hell is going on -" Before Y/n could finish his questions he's tackled from behind onto the ground.

The agent on top of him roughly pins him to the ground hand cuffing him. Some agents begin to tell Y/n his rights as he gets picked up and shoved around until he's outside.

From the distance Y/n looks at his boyfriend team some giving him eyes of disappointment and others giving him "It's okay" look.

Theres a riot of men and women with signs shouting at Y/n throwing things at him. Some even shouted "give him a death penalty" The cops couldn't make it to the cars causing some reporters and news cameramen try to interview Y/n. "Y/n L/n! Is it true that you killed those women!?!" "Why did you kill those women?! And is it true because you did it for fun?" "Y/n! Y/n! Is it true-" Before the woman could ask Y/n any more questions Y/n finally broke. "Can you just shut up! And get out of my way!" After Y/n shouted that the crowd became silent.

"Oh my god." Y/n thinks to himself after realizing what he said. And of course he had to say that to a woman reporter. The cops push past the crowd finally shoving Y/n into the car.

Y/n looks outside the window watching people trying to open the door and people hitting on the glass.

TIMESKIP

Y/n was sitting in the interrogation room tapping his foot impatiently waiting. Y/n already all the tricks. Making the room cold, trying to give him water, using reverse physiology.

"You sure you don't want this water?" A cop asks trying to hand him water. "Look. My boyfriend is a cop, I know all the tricks..." Y/n says rolling his eyes. The cop mumbles something under his breath before walking out letting Hotch and Derek come inside.

"Thank god you two are here. Please don't tell me that the whole world is against me and think I killed those women." Y/n sighs holding his face in his hands.

"Y/n. I'm sorry but all fingers point to you. One of the women escaped before she could have been the eighth. When she described the unsub and drew him it exactly looked like you. They even found some of your DNA act the crime scene." Hotch says sitting down in the chair.

"I'm sorry Y/n, but you have all odds against you now." Derek chips in. Derek looks Y/n up and down trying to read his body language but a stiff laugh escapes his lips.

"I ❤ submissive men? Really Y/n." Derek says looking at Y/n in his shorts and shirt.

"Oh my god... I forgot I was wearing this. The one time I could become famous or something I'm wearing this." Y/n jokes before clearing his throat. "But I do have a alibi." Aaron and Derek side eye each other before nodding their heads at Y/n so he can continue.

"I was with my little step-sister for two weeks for a camping trip with her family. In fact I had just come back hours ago." "Alright... We'll be back to see if you're telling the truth or not." Aaron says while leaving with Derek.

Y/n is alone in the silent room for a while until he hears the door open. "Spencer? Oh thank god baby you're here." Y/n says smiling at him. "I would hug you, but they still got me cuffed-- but you can still kiss me." Y/n says with a smirk.

Spencer rolls his eyes before walking around the table giving Y/n a light kiss on the lips. "What are you wearing?" Spencer asks in disbelief looking at Y/n up and down. "Sorry. If I knew I was getting arrested, I would have looked better." Y/n jokes causing Spencer to smile sweetly at him.

"I ❤ submissive men." Spencer reads out loud. "Mhm I do love submissive men. Especially the one i'm dating~" Y/n teases with a wink.

"The unsub motives were because he was rejected by the women. So it doesn't make sense for you to be here. Especially since you're taken and dating a man. But- somehow the unsub got some of your DNA and most likely threatened the free woman to say its you and---" Before Spencer could get done rambling the door opens.

"Y/n. Your alibi matches up with your story. You're proven innocent and proven that you were set up. But you're not done here just yet." A random agent most likely the Sheriff tells Y/n taking the handcuffs off of him.

"Y/n. What happened after you got home." Derek asks earning a groan from the male in question. "Nothing. But I did bump into some weirdo in the airport." Y/n answers.

Y/n begins to describe what happened with the guy and everything and after being held in the station for a few more hours he was finally released to go back home.

"Finally I can go back home." Y/n breathes out with a sigh before hugging Spencer and giving him a kiss bye. "Bye spence~ When you find this guy call me okay?" "Okay Y/n bye." Spencer kisses him back and walks with him until he's out of the building.

Y/n walks inside his house going into his room and moves the secret panting clicking on a button letting the wall secret door open.

Y/n walks down the stairs looking at his new victim. The woman is so skinny that her bones show as well bruises all over her body. She is on the floor too weak to even sit up. But she knows that her captive is with her.

"I almost got caught. I was inches away from being exposed. Thank god I've been doing this for too long to be caught. Your silly friend tried, but failed. I think you're gonna be my last victim. Lucky number eight."

"Actually- your friend will. After I killed her i'll just keep you alive down here forever and ever. You'll be fed like once a month and you'll drink water every Friday. How does that sound? Oh I forgot I cut your tongue off a long time ago."

THE END

[inmyminditsreal]

Fluff!!!!! <3

Lego Is Life, Summary: Woken up by a very eager 8 year old daughter, Spencer and I crawl out of bed and indulge in Lego like true adults.

I Love It When You Ramble, Summary: you talk a lot, and freak out a lot, and Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, and talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather, loves you.

Crushes And Camping ~ Summary: You decide to go camping with the team, you have a crush on Spencer and have been looking forward to this for a while. Oh, Look! You have to share a tent. (plus extra cute shit obvi).

Meeting Your Family ~ Summary: You're taking Spencer to meet your family and he's smart and awkward and adorable. Your family loves him.

Hospital Walls Can't Hide Love ~ Summary: You get shot and end up in the hospital. Your crush Spencer takes care of you, and you both find you have something new in common.

Getting Ready To Meet The Team ~ Summary: You're going to meet the team but need Spencer's help getting ready. To which he happily agrees.

You're Sweeter Than Cough Syrup ~ Summary: You're sick at home, and Spencer takes car of you. Despite you being stubborn.

Workaholic For Your Love ~ Summary: You always overwork yourself, and Spencer decides you deserve better.

I'll Go With You ~ Summary: Spencer has always asked everyone if they wanted to go with him to different plays, festivals, and shows, and nobody has ever agreed. Until..

Drunk In Love ~ Summary: You get a call from a very drunk Spencer, who can't seem to shut up about you. And who needs to be rescued immediately.

Somebody Missed Me ~Summary: Spencer comes home, and you are nothing less than ecstatic to see your boyfriend.

You Know I Like It When You Blush ~ Summary: You blush all the time, especially when you're around your crush, Spencer. But, apparently, he likes it more than you think.

Room 312 ~ Summary: The team ends up in a crappy hotel. Somehow, you and spencer end up sharing a room. With one bed.

Solving Crimes And Crushes~ Summary: You're filling in for an agent at the BAU, but are surprised to find you like one of the team members a little too much.

Thanks for clicking!!!! <3

Back to the masterlist

Back to SFW

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

What are your wips about? Can you some them up in a line (I know you won't want to give too much away?)

absolutely I can but I'll do it under a cut incase people don't wanna know.

there's also no dates for when i'll have any of these out so i apologise for that. many of the titles are also wips.

the price we pay (title is a wip) is a first person, JJ-pov following Lauren, only there was no scheme, Emily is dead and we see JJ try to grapple with that grief.

i hope you dance is an Emily centric, Hotchners future AU in which she and Hotch are married, Jack, Ava and Livvy all exist but Hotch has just died.

so much for summer love (title is a wip) looks at Emily and Hotch as they were when Hotch worked for Elizabeth, and the consequences of that relationship years after the fact.

changes is a JJ-centric again, set after she finds out she's pregnant, when she travels back to her hometown in an attempt to figure out what she should do. should only be a few chapters.

uptown girl is a high school AU in which Emily is the rich cheerleader and Hotch is the social outcast. very much notebook/early 2000 romantic tragedy/comedy vibes.

all our broken pieces (title is a wip) is a friends-to-lovers fic in which we see Hotch be there for Emily through all of her tumultuous relationships.

Bau camping trip is a flashback/flash forward Hotchners AU fic in which we see the BAU go camping in 2007, and then again in 2025.

the alaska wip (doesn't have a title yet) is an enemies-to-lovers case that takes place in Alaska, and Emily and Hotch get lost alone in the wilderness.

[moralesluvr]

CABIN FEVER | SR

♡ pairings & aus : fem!reader x spencer reid

♡ summary: after jj plans a cabin trip for a group getaway, you unexpectedly have to share a cabin with spencer reid (who you aren't exactly very fond of), leading to a night of surprises and confessions.

♡ warnings: fluff, stupid spencer being mean, pining, two characters being hopelessly in love yet oblivious

♡ a/n: well HELLO!!!! its been like what....five months since i've written? crazy, i know! anyways i wanted to start writing for my darlings in the bau so here's a new fic! i hope you enjoy <;3

♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

You'd like to say that you were a nice person. You got along with everyone, and you were always cordial to those that you weren't exactly close with, or even friends with, for that matter. However, this rule applies to everyone except one person- that person being Spencer Reid. 

You didn't exactly hate him- no, never, but the two of you were always butting heads. He was witty and often had to make a smart  or stupid comment about everything, even when the circumstances were far from humorous, and you knew he did it just to annoy you. The both of you had worked in the BAU together for years, and he was tolerable as long as the both of you were in the field, totally focused in on the task at hand. But any other time? Gosh, he could really be annoying.

JJ was one of your best friends from the BAU, and she had recently planned a camping trip for everyone to go on- just to get away for a little bit. And of course, despite you knowing that Spencer was definitely going to be there, you accepted the invite and began packing your bags.

It was Sunday, and you'd be staying for four days, so you packed one extra of everything, just to be careful. You grabbed your keys and other necessities and got into your car, typing the address into your GPS and cutting the radio on.

You're happily jamming out to your shuffled playlist when JJ's contact name flashes against your radio screen, and you click answer as you smile, "Hey, JJ! What's up?"

"Don't kill me," she starts, and that immediately starts to worry you. You sigh as she finishes her sentence, and you can hear the sincerity in her voice, "So...I accidentally under booked the cabins. There was supposed to be one for each person, but we're one short so..."

Your lips immediately flatten out as you sigh, "Please don't tell me I have to share with you know who."

JJ pouts on the other side of the line. "I'm sorry, I really am. He's not that bad-"

"Jen! He is terrible!" You protest, your GPS telling you that you're twenty five minutes away. "He's so annoying and he's always making fun of me."

"I know, love, I really am sorry. Do you think you can you deal for just four days?"

You give her a groan, but you know you can do it, so you agree to room with him. JJ claps on the other side of the phone and you can practically hear her smile in her voice, "I owe you one, Y/N! I love you!"

"Love you too," you grumble, clicking the red decline button as you turn your radio back up. Would it really be that bad to room with Spencer? Who knows, maybe the two of you might get along? He was kind of cute...

You shake your head to get rid of your absurd thoughts. He was your co-worker and your literal insufferable, built-in nemesis, plus, he was a couple years older than you- which was embarrassing, because you were way more mature than him. 

Almost thirty minutes pass until you pull into the lots of the cabins, the private residence beautifully decorated with vanilla colored decor and a bunch of land and activities set up outside. You spot Penelope and Emily roasting marshmallows by a bonfire, and you immediately get out of your car and lock it, joining them. Emily immediately jumps up to hug you, "Y/N! Hi!"

Penelope hugs you from the other side and you smile against them both, "Hello my loves!"

The three of you sit down and occupy yourselves with busy conversation until you hear a familiar voice, the same annoying, excruciating one that you hate.

Spencer.

He's being a usual chatterbox, talking Morgan's ear off, and you're glad that he doesn't spot you. A couple of more cars pull up and you assume that they're JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. You feel a pair of arms come at your waist and you instantly recognize your best friend, "JJ!"

She hugs you and you hug her back, your eyelashes fluttering as you smile. "Missed you."

You're catching up with a lot of the team members, and everyone gathers around the fire as they make themselves snacks and s'mores. You feel a presence next to you and you're awfully confused until you look over, and your jaw immediately clenches.

"Don't even think about it." You hiss at Spencer, who just gives you a warm smile, "Think about what?"

He's playing dumb, and you give it twenty minutes before he starts acting a fool.

And you were right. He's just talking away and making jokes and they would've been funny if all of them weren't about you. He loved to pick on you for a reason that you could never quite fathom, and it was starting to get a little bothersome. Everyone's laughing, though, and some of the jokes make your lips curl upwards until he makes one that you wish you didn't hear. Somehow, the topic of respect was brought up, and Spencer had said that the only reason people respected you was because you could never "look down" on anyone. And at first, you didn't get the joke, until you realized it was about your height.

You rose up from the log that you were sitting on and pushed the door open to your cabin, throwing yourself on the bed as a tear slipped from your eyes. It wasn't anything to cry about- maybe you were just being sensitive, but you had enough of his stupid jokes that were always targeted against you. You silently let the tears fall until you heard the door swing open, and you immediately dry your eyes. You look over to see who it is, and you nearly cry when you realize it's Spencer.

"I'm sorry," he starts, and for the first time, he actually sounds sincere. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just thought we had that kind of relationship where we could make fun of each other."

Now you feel bad. Not because you're crying or because you're hurt, but because maybe- just maybe, you had gotten Spencer and your relationship with him all wrong. He notices that you're crying and his eyes soften, "Y/N, please say something."

"I'm fine," you wave it off, "It's okay. I'm just gonna get ready for bed."

You grab your belongings and walk into the bathroom, where you shower and slip on a pair of yellow pajamas. You tie up your hair in a ponytail and pad out back to the king-sized bed, and you groaned lightly when you realized that you'd have to share it with Spencer tonight. After his joke, you weren't sure if you wanted to even see him.

He's already in bed, and his hair is wet- so you assume that he took a shower at another one of the boys' cabin. He's reading, his glasses laying on the tip of his nose while his book rests in his lap. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of fuzzy socks and green sweatpants, and he actually looks kind of...cute.

Pull it together, Y/N.

You climb in on the other side and roll over, climbing underneath the covers and turning the lamp off.

"Good night, Y/N." Spencer says, turning his own lamp off and setting his glasses on the night stand as he sinks into the peeled sheets of the bed.

"Night..." you murmur, but you can't sleep. It's too cold and you're too lazy to get out of bed to turn on the heater, and plus, all of Spencer's shifting is keeping you from even falling into a small doze.

"Spence?" You call out, and he rolls over to face you. It's dark, so he can't see you, and your noses slightly bump as you turn onto your side. He laughs, and you laugh too, and for the first time, he isn't being absolutely insufferable.

"I can't sleep," you whisper, and he whispers back that he can't sleep either.

"Hey," you start, "I'm sorry I was such a jerk to you. You always just made those jokes and I deflected because...well, if you couldn't tell, I don't handle those things well." You laugh airily, and your eyes ache a little when Reid reaches over to turn the lamp on.

He's so cute. His curls are damp, some of them messily dried around his face. His nose has a little red indent from where his glasses were sitting, and you find it adorable as you smile.

God, what was happening? Were you catching feelings for Spencer?

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, "I was the one that was being a jerk, I constantly made fun of you and made jokes without ever realizing that you weren't okay with it," Spencer says, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, It's all good now." You whisper, smiling.

"You're really pretty."

What did he just say?

"Huh?" You ask, dumbfounded and a little nervous.

"You're...I said that you're really pretty." Spencer repeats, and you want to ask him to say it again, just to be sure. But you don't, you just reply, shaken, "T-Thank you. You're pretty too."

"I'm pretty?" He asks, a little confused, and you nod, blushing.

"Pretty boy." You smile.

"Pretty girl," he whispers, and you realize how close your faces are when you feel his warm breath fan against your face. He smells of autumn and cookies and all things warm, and your skin tingles with excitement as his lips graze over yours lightly before kissing you. The kiss is sweet, and you feel his hand snake around your waist underneath the covers as his other hand cups your cheek. You melt, and your smile breaks the kiss, "Oh my Lord."

Spencer smiles and rolls over, turning off the lamp before pulling you in by your waist, his head buried in the crook of your neck, "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight, pretty boy." You smile, your eyes fluttering shut as you drift off to sleep.

[chl-owo-e]

-{Anthrax}-

(Spencer Reid X Reader)

Summary; The current case has both Spencer and you on edge. It only worsens when he locks himself in the lab with Anthrax inside, as his symptoms worsen you can only think about him leaving you and his child alone in the world.

Warnings;S4 EP24, Angst, baby genius, fluff, mentions of death, sick Spencer, crying, some small flirting,

———————————————————————

-Spencer and you met during the FBI camp, the only one reading as everyone else was socializing and hanging out with friends. When you spoke to him it was like everything clicked. He was nervous around you, and he spoke diligently telling you facts about the color of your nails and what it means about you.

It wasn’t till he asked you out on a date shyly that you knew you wanted to stay with him for the rest of your life. As the both of you gotten accepted into the BAU thats when Spencer brought up the idea of moving in with each other. Two years later Spencer had asked you to marry him, it was in a library where you both had your first date.

When you find out you were pregnant Spencer couldn’t be any happier. He was elated to know that his beautiful wife was carrying his child. Spencer couldn’t wait to hold the bundle of joy, he almost always spoke to the bump at any time of day especially when he gets excited about something. Late at night he would mumble facts to the bump tiredly as he rubs it soothing you to sleep.

Now you stand here, married to the love of your life for 6 years with a 4 year old toddler at home being taken care of by your parents. Spencer and you were rushed out of your house with a very urgent call from JJ. Not stating anything only to come to the office it’s important.

“Spence! Are you ready? We have to go now or JJ will have it out with us!” You had yelled from inside your room as you slid on your black Mary Janes. You stood up and fixed your earrings whilst you made your way out the room. In-front of you stood Spencer and your little boy smiling and laughing. From context clues you figured out that Spencer had showed him his signature penny magic trick.

You looked down towards the wooden flooring, a shiny burnt sienna coin catches your eye facing heads up right at you. Your eyes trail up to the two boys with a small happy smile over your features. “Sorry honey did you say something?” He says in between giggles next your son screams and runs straight at you “MOMMY!” His pitter pattering of footsteps fills the hallway, his hands reach up making grabby motions for you to pick him up.

Your hands reach down and wrap around his body as you pick him up and set him on your waist. “We have to go, are you ready?” You ask Spencer again more clearly, your hand brushes the little boys curly hair out of his face. “Oh, yeah! Just let me get my badge and we can go.” Spencer shot up from his crouching position and walked off into the bedroom for his badge.

“You ready to go to grandmas? Come on buddy lets get your shoes on.” You baby talk him and walk to his room where his shoes were tucked away. After Spencer and you were done getting ready with your son, Spencer buckles him up in his carseat. With a sippy cup in one hand and a baggy of goldfish in the other your son happily sits patiently in his seat.

Spencer sits in the passenger seat as you buckle yourself in the drivers. The drive to your parents house was short, Disney music playing throughout the car and your child screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs. Spencers hand lays gently on your thigh as he hums the lyrics quietly.

Right as you dropped your son off at your parents giving them the time to take care of your bright sunny child. JJ called with an urgency in her voice. “Are you guys coming now? Sorry to be bothersome, but this is really important and I need you guys here asap!” Her voice had some wavering through it. Spencers eyes widen and looked at you with a concerned face.

“What happened? Is there a case?” Spencer asked as a slight crack etched its way into his voice. “I cant say now, especially on the phone. You guys will have to wait till you get here.” She says exasperated. Spencer and you said your goodbyes to JJ and hung up. You continued to drive to the BAU but little bit faster.

Entering the BAU you see a lot more people than usual. “Military? What’s happening.” Spencer questioned as he paused after going through the glass doors. Standing next to him you look at him with confusion lacing on your face. He looks back at you with the same face, sooner or later Hotch comes out of his office and called for a meeting with the team.

“This is Dr.Linda Kimura, chief of special pathogens with the CDC” JJ introduces a young women while she sorts pills into small cups. “Hi, I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances.” Linda says in a soft professional voice. “Wait what circumstances?” You asked as you face scrunches as you look at Linda and JJ. “We need to get started.” Hotchner walks into the room and gives everyone his signature stern look.

JJ gave the brief for the case quickly, to the group. There is a mass break for anthrax that is hitting in certain points of the town and is leaving people sick only for them to die in the hospital hours later. Aaron soon tells everyone that we are not to tell anyone about it either. As it will cause a mass hysteria.

Hotch then gives orders for each person in the room, “Reid got with DR. Kimura to the hospital and talk to the victims. Agent Reid, morgan and, Prentiss a hazmat team will accompany you to the crime scene. Theres CIPRO, everybody needs to take it before we go.” He finishes his orders and everyone takes a cup that Linda hands to us.

Right as Spencer left you wanted to make sure you see him well before he could get sick. “Stay safe…please. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Your saddened voice came out wavering, you gently grabbed his face and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “I will, you need to stay safe too! You’re going to the crime scene.” Spencer replies with his eyebrows furrowing in an upset manner.

“Ill never leave you, I hope you know that. I have to go now, stay safe please.” Spencer spoke right before he got into Dr. Kimura’s car. You watched as the car turned out of the parking lot and into the road on its way to the hospital. Now that only leaves you to go and help Morgan and Emily at the crime scene. You walk speedly to the black SUV and got in the back.

“Took you long enough, I thought you were making out with pretty boy over there.” Morgans voice had snapped you out of the trance you were in. “Ha Ha very funny. I was just telling him to be safe, you know since he’s going to be around a lot of sick people.” You tell him with some worry in your voice.

The drive felt short, your brain trying to shut itself off from worrying you too much kept it from thinking about the time crunch you are on. Made you forget you were even in a car driving the opposite direction that Spencer was going. Once you had gotten to the park Emily spoke right to one of the people in the suits.

The guy walked off to continue on with everything with his friend. “This park doesn’t scream ‘target’ to me.” You spoke as you looked out onto the beautiful scenery. “Terrorists usually target symbols—white house, pentagon, world trade center. I mean its a nice park, but its not a symbol.” Morgan adds trying to get and explanation for everything.

“Ok, so, maybe it’s symbolic for the Unsub.” Prentiss says while looking at both you and Morgan. Soon we get a call from Garcia and she tells us to go to a Book front.

We appear there and have some more people wearing hazmats and checking the place out for more Anthrax residue. You hear Morgan say his goodbyes to JJ before talking to Emily about keeping quiet about everything. Next one of the men calls Morgan to tell him there was a positive test. “This had to be where he did his test run.” You told the two as you looked back to the book store.

The three of you got back into the black SUV and drove back to the BAU for the profile Hotch will be conducting. Right has Morgan parked into the lot you basically ran inside to see Spencer again. Only wanting to be in his presence, to see his face once more.

“Do we have everyone for the profile?” Hotch questions Rossi as he replies to him about the room having too many alpha males in the room. “Lets get started. Because the locations are not symbolically significant, we believe that these attacks are personal.” Aaron speaks in a dominant tone to everyone in the room.

“Understanding the significance of the locations will be the key to identifying him.” Prentiss says informing everyone as well. The team took turns and gave out the profile to the military people that stood in the bullpen. You started to zone everyones voice out, from what JJ told you is that Spencer was still at the hospital talking to all the patients. You wish to see him, but you wish to see your son the most.

He likes to play outside with your parents dog, what if he gets sick too? What if Spencer get sick at the hospital? What would you do then? Losing your son would mean you lose you life. But also losing Spencer would mean you would lose your whole world. Nothing could bring you back from those losses.

“Y/n, are you ok? I know, it’s scary to know that we cant tell anyone. Im here for you.” Emily placed her hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, I know, I should be fine as long as i have Spencer.” You tell her, your voice cracks a bit as tears brim your eyes.

“Y/n, pull Spencer from the hospital and go to Dr. Nickols’s home.” Hotches voice was powerful over all the other noises in the bull pen. You give him a nod and you run to the SUV, driving all the way to Spencer. You sped walked inside the hospital’s emergency room all the way to the ICU. Once you caught sight of his signature long fluffy brown hair, you ran to him.

Spencer turned to you and automatically opened his arms for a hug at the sight of you. His arms pulls you into an warm embrace. You hide your face into his chest taking in his scent brings comfort to you and your stiff body relaxes. “Im here, you’re here, were here.” His voice was soft with you, whispering it in your ear.

You and Spencer drove to the suspect’s house, it looked nice like a normal family home. “He had guests over for a party last month.” You tell him as you take in your surroundings. “We should probably take a look around anyways.” He says before whispering a small ow under his breath while you and him pass a bush on the sidewalk.

Garcia calls you leaving you distracted as Spencer runs off and explores the home without you. “The lab is clean.” You tell to Spencer only for you to see he disappeared. “Spence? Spence? Spencer?” You start to twist and turn to try and find a glimpse of your lover. You walk up the sidewalk to the house and towards the inside. “No! Dont! Stay back!” Spencer yells as he runs to the door and locks himself inside.

“Spencer what’s wrong? What are you doing?” You start to panic and try to wriggle the door open. “Im sorry, Im so sorry.” Spencer whimpers with tears in his eyes. “Im going to call Hotch, and were going to get you out of here. Okay? Were going to get you out of here and into the hospital.” You were on the verge of tears also, now understanding what predicament you’re in now.

You lean your forehead on the glass letting a few tears roll down your cheeks. “I just want you to know I love you, and if anything goes south and I dont make it out of here tell our son I love him too.” Spencer cries tears freely run down his face finally accepting that he’ll probably not see his son again. “Don’t talk like that Spencer! You’ll see him Again and you’ll be able to tell him yourself. You’ll be fine! We’ll go home and watch cartoons and eat ice cream with him like we always do. You’ll be fine Spence, you are fine Spencer.” You cried to him remembering the time you and him stayed up late on a Wednesday night eating strawberry ice-cream with your son while watching cartoons.

Everyone came to the scene, the whole team. Emily was consoling you about everything, you knew you had to be strong but your biggest fear was happening right now. You could lose Spencer right now and you’re doing nothing about it and you couldn’t do anything about it. “Y/n let Morgan, Hotch and I do this, you should take a break. Only god knows how you feel right now.” Her voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “He needs me Em. He needs me, and im here crying about it! I should be helping him! Better yet i should be the one in there and not him!” You were sobbing now, you’ve seen how the people turned out like. They were in pain through out the whole time they were sick and now Spencer has to go through that.

Emily hugs you as a way to calm your racing heart, and your tears as they were never ending. You automatically hugged her back, arms wrapping around her neck as a heart wrenching sob breaks through your throat. Emily stood there and held you as you cried your heart out. No words left her mouth, she just soothingly rubbed your back till your tears seemed to stop.

Morgan walked to you and Emily with a smile like he heard the best news ever. “Spencer figured it out, hes out of the room and he is now being hosed down. You should ride with him to the hospital.” He was slow with the way he said anything. You unwrap your arms around Emily and went to hug Morgan. “Thank you so much.” You tell him with your chin on his shoulder.

Then you let go of him to see Spencer, you run all the way to the tent Morgan said he was being hosed off at. “Spencer?” You say aloud as you walk into the tent. “In here!” He yells slightly as his voice goes hoarse. “They’re going to get me naked so I don’t think you wanna be here.” He tells you shyly with a small pink tint on his cheeks. “Ive seen you naked before Spencer, i have seen every crevice on your body.” You giggle at him as you cross your arms over your body.

———————————————————————

A/N;This took me like 3 hours help

[imagining-in-the-margins]

☀️ CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge 🏖

The following are prompts including the theme of Summer! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☀️ Generic Prompts ☀️

Everyone looks better in a sundress.

Character doesn't know how to swim.

Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

The team has a (MASSIVE) family barbecue.

The BAU has a pool party at Rossi's vacation home.

The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap.

Characters A and B have a picnic (it goes well/wrong).

Character shows up in swimwear that no one expected.

Character A suffers heatstroke and B takes care of them.

Character A teases B about needing to practice CPR at the pool party.

Character A never loved B more than when they ran through the sprinklers.

The air conditioning broke and Characters try to find creative ways to cool off.

Characters A and B go berry picking together (and enjoy the fruits of their labor).

It's Character's first time camping and they weren't prepared for how cold it gets on summer nights.

Character A lectures B on the importance of sunscreen, yet freezes when they are asked to help apply it.

The BAU is a group of very serious FBI agents. They take their water gun/balloon fights very seriously.

The couple thought their vacation would be a chance to get away from the BAU, but the resort town they're staying in turns out to have an unsub in it.

Character helps their child with their first entrepreneurial venture... a lemonade stand. They weren't expecting half the damn FBI to show up.

Character A’s wide-brimmed hat flew right off their head and into a tree. B helps them get it down.

Anything else you can think of!

☀️ Dialogue Prompts ☀️

"It's like Hotch at the beach."

"Come on in, the water's fine."

"It's so hot but I am so touch starved."

"... How did you even get that tan line?"

“Yes, the sunburn is as bad as it looks.”

"Oh my god, do I hear the ice cream truck?"

"Next Summer, we're doing the Alaskan cruise."

"It's a million degrees outside, why are you in the hot tub?"

(sarcastic) “Feels just like the summer camps of my youth.”

"I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

"There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

“You look hot.” “Thank you!” “No, I mean literally… I think you’re overheating.”

(lying) "My phone doesn't work on the beach. Must be the signal or something..."

☀️ Character Specific Prompts ☀️

Spencer: He learned from the last time a beautiful person pulled him into a pool.

Spencer: He has a degree in engineering. How can he be defeated by a sandcastle?

Spencer: "I don't really like the beach... Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces.”

Luke: Reader loves to go to the dog beach to look at cute puppies. A dog named Roxy takes special interest in them.

Tara/Emily: “And what did you do with your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”

☀️ NSFW Prompts ☀️ 18+ ONLY ☀️

Character gets caught skinny dipping.

Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

Sex on the beach is so much worse than everyone said.

Character A can't deal with how much B loves popsicles/ice cream cones.

It's too hot to wear clothes at home, so Character walks around in their underwear.

Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

🏖 Happy Writing! 🏖

[the-au-thor]

Mirrorball reader x Spencer?

(I mean this in the way like she is what the song lyrics say but also taylor lover? BAU member?)

DEAAAAR I'm so so sorry. I've been busy and trying to write something that felt right to me. I didn't know if you wanted angst or fluff but I'm delusional and I love love soooo here we go! If you wanted something different just let me know.

All I do is Try | Spencer Reid x MirrorballBAU!Reader

Words: 1.2 k

The atmosphere inside the jet on the way back home was tense. The recent case had been exhausting, to say the least. Despite successfully closing the case after a week away, there was no real joy; people had died, individuals who would never return home to their families like you and your team. Your foot, suspended in the air over your other leg, moved to the rhythm of the music from your headphones. Trying to entertain yourself, you read a book on your Kindle. In the middle of a catchy paragraph, you looked up to find Spencer's gaze. He lightly covered his mouth with his hand while holding one of his books with the other. His face was somewhat tense, eyebrows furrowed. You knew it was due to concentration and fatigue.

You mimicked his furrowed brow, covering your mouth like he was. Then, you hid your half-smile and playfully raised and lowered your eyebrows. Spencer saw this and lowered his gaze, this time more relaxed, releasing a silent laugh that translated into a smile. He removed his hand from his face, revealing a teasing expression, sticking out his tongue. You laughed from your seat, changing your posture, both feet now on the ground. You placed the Kindle on your lap and made a silly face to make him laugh. He returned the gesture and then laughed loud enough for others to turn their heads, though their expressions didn't seem curious. It was as if they had expected to witness both of you sharing a laugh. Quickly, they turned back to their affairs, exchanging knowing glances. Oblivious to your teammates' silent conspiracy, you and Spencer silently observed each other, the echoes of laughter in your eyes.

You took off one of your headphones and tapped the seat beside you, inviting him to sit. He didn't need much persuasion to get up and join you. You offered him your headphone, and he took it silently, putting it in his ear. He glanced at you with a know-it-all expression.

"Folklore again?" You rolled your eyes.

"Ugh, just listen and be quiet."

Spencer continued to watch you with a half-smile as song after song played. He saw you chatting with J.J via text while moving your head to the rhythm. Spencer then realized that every time Jennifer claimed to be reading on the jet, she was actually lying and chatting with you, sending funny baby memes and travel destination posts. You also shared TikToks with Penelope, exchanging the weirdest and stupidest videos, prompting her to respond with laughter. The rest of the flight was in complete silence, only accompanied by your music. He wasn't a fan of pop music before meeting you, but after that, he discovered that you would go everywhere with your headphones and Kindle, reading romance novels and sighing over fictional love stories. You played songs from your playlist loudly on every occasion, and far from annoying him, he found it adorable.

When the jet landed, Spencer barely felt like moving. He was tempted to ask if he could camp there that night; the mere thought of traveling home meant too much energy expenditure for him at that moment. Spencer watched you entwine your arm with Morgan's as you descended from the jet, trying to lift his spirits. He chuckled when you jumped and kissed Derek's shaved head, despite his grimace. Eventually, he gave in, laughing along with you, relieving the tension from his shoulders. Spencer bid farewell to the rest of his team alongside you. He saw you kiss your colleagues' cheeks with a smile and lighten the mood with something funny. Spencer drove the car back home feeling a bit less tired. He thought he was being discreet, glancing at you during every red light, and you half-smiled without taking your eyes off the window, captivated by the city lights and people walking their dogs on the sidewalks.

When they arrived home, Spencer suggested ordering Chinese food since they were hungry but too tired to cook.

"Don't be silly; I'm making tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches," you replied with a smile.

As soon as you arrived, you kicked off your shoes, letting them fly across the room. Then you took off your jacket and performed that magic trick that even Spencer, an expert in the field, couldn't comprehend yet. You moved your arms, slipped your hands inside your blouse, and voilà, your bra was somewhere over the sofa. Spencer laughed after your victory dance; he knew you hated wearing a bra more than anyone, and that ritual upon returning home was something that, far from causing him any horror, made him happy. With him, you were yourself, free.

After dinner, Spencer relaxed on the sofa, watching a rerun of an old soap opera on the retro channel. The dim lights in the room suddenly brightened, and "Paper Rings" started playing on the speakers. Spencer rolled his eyes but smiled, knowing exactly what would happen when you slid across the living room floor in your pajamas and sunglasses. Spencer turned off the TV and gave you his full attention as you began lifting your legs and arms, your hair swaying around you while performing your living room choreography.

You approached him without missing a beat, a skill Spencer admired because, while he didn't have two left feet, he also didn't possess the abilities of a natural dancer. His expertise in the area was due to the countless parties at Rossi's house and all the times Penelope, J.J, Emily, and you dragged him onto the dance floor. The truth was, he could never refuse a dance, even when you invited him to join in wearing pajamas in the middle of his living room. You let out an excited squeal when he stood up to dance with you. You hugged him around the neck, getting closer as you both moved to the music.

"That's it, babe! Move those hips!" you cheered with a smile, making exaggerated facial expressions with the sole purpose of making him laugh. "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with a paper ring, uh huh, that's right, darling; you're the one I want," you sang, releasing him to twirl around the room.

Spencer played along, watching you dance, seeing your feet move with agility, spinning in the middle of the room like a brilliant disco ball; a diamond, a necklace of emeralds. The most beautiful thing in the room. Like a light that captured his attention. "You're the one I want, in paper rings," you balanced your hand in the air, pointing to your ring finger, and ran to the center table to embrace the photograph you both had taken at the Universal Studios. "In picture frames, in all my dreams" you let go of the frame and hung onto Spencer's neck, throwing bothh of you onto the sofa with a final performative flourish that made him laugh. Spencer and you stayed in that position, lying on the sofa, breathing heavily and still hugging each other. Spencer looked at you; tiny, almost microscopic droplets of sweat slowly sliding down your forehead, your wild hair around your face, and your crystalline eyes. He released your grip from his neck and brought one of your hands to his lips for a kiss. As he pulled it away from his mouth, he looked at your fingers and smiled.

"Well, it wasn't a paper ring, but I did my best," he said, referring to the delicate and meaningful ring he couldn't resist putting on your finger after two years of officially dating.

You returned the gesture, kissing his hand this time, and smiled once you had caught your breath.

"The best decision I've ever made," you murmured, feeling Spencer's fingers caress your face as he studied you with his detective's furrowed brow. "What?"

"My love, I know this case was tough for you too."

"W-what are you talking about?"

He sighed, gently caressing your forehead, this time with both hands and moving the massage carefully to the back of your neck.

"I know what you were doing there for us: being this cheerleader who always brings a smile to our faces. And hey, I get it," he clarified, "but if there's anyone you don't have to pretend to be okay all the time with, it's me."

You opened and closed your mouth, somewhat stunned.

"I...what?"

Spencer let out a tender laugh and kissed the tip of your nose briefly.

"Yes, like the song; 'When no one is around, my dear, you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love. Shining just for you,'" he responded. "You don't have to do that for me all the time or be stoic for me. I can handle your fatigue, your sadness, or your anger just like you do with me," he offered with kindness and willingness.

That, and seeing him recite that song somehow made him even more attractive. He identified the new smile emerging on your lips and smiled back.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," you replied too quickly. Spencer knew you were lying. His sly smile widened, and he moved a bit closer to you.

"Heeeey," he sang, "Even in your worst lies I saw the truth in you."

You furrowed your brow. "Are you quoting Taylor Swift against me? Because I'm pretty sure the lyrics weren't like that."

Spencer lowered his hands down your sides, hugging your waist with a mischievous smile.

"Let's put a mark our friends will see on your collarbone, shall we?" He offered, lowering his lips to your neck to start kissing it. You squirmed, feeling a tickling sensation. "Oh my God, look! Hand under your sweatshirt..." he moved his hand over your skin, and you stopped him with a smile, not entirely convinced.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

He shook his head while continuing to kiss your neck.

"I thought that with all the times we've listened to the album on every car ride, you'd know the lyrics by now. It's 'baby kiss it better,'" he replied, feigning impatience, making you laugh.

You took his face between your hands to look into his eyes.

"I've created a monster."

He looked at you, closed his eyes, and started singing, "And I can see us twisted in bedsheets, August sipped away like a bottle of wine."

"It's not August."

"Come on, your husband here is trying to seduce you with Taylor Swift songs. How many times have you heard that happen?" he complained.

You laughed, your entire body aching from your laughter. You hugged him and let him love you. Apparently, this time, it was his turn to shine for you.

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Fanfic Masterlist

I write for Hogwarts Legacy and Criminal Minds

Explicit sexual content -🌶️ Fluff -🌸 Angst -❤️‍🩹

Hogwarts Legacy:

Hate that I now have to add that all characters have been aged up. If you are a minor, get the fuck out, this is not the place for you.

 Sharing is Caring stories in order: 

Everyone Has Needs - Ominis makes time to take care of himself 🌶️

Sharing is Caring - Ominis has an issue with Sebastian and f!MC. When Sebastian finds out what the problem is he talks with MC, wishing they could help Ominis Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Sharing is Caring chapter 2  - After a bit of denial the trio have a threesome Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis 🌶️❤️‍🩹🌸 

Sharing is Caring chapter 3 - The trio work to get Ominis out of an arranged marriage  Sebastian x f!MC, Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis 🌶️❤️‍🩹 

Sharing is Caring chapter 4 - A member of the HL gang finds out the trios secret  🌸❤️‍🩹

Other Sharing is Caring stories: 

We’re All Winners Here (aka untitled Quidditch story) - Sebastian and Ominis cheer on their girl 🌸

Precious Moments  - Ominis uses Polyjuice potion to witness special moments with Sebastian and f!MC 🌸

Oneshots/Other writings: (Most of these can fit into SiC before Everyone has Needs, but they can also be read as stand alone pieces!)

A Snack by the Lake - Sebastian gets a special snack from MC during a picnic Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️

A Snack by the Lake, Part 2 - MC gets a special snack from Sebastian during their picnic  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

A Snack by the Lake, Part 3 - Sebastian and MC have a nice ending to their picnic  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

The Green Imposter - Sebastian finds something interesting in MCs nightstand and puts it to good use Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

Is That What You Want? - After a few drink and a day full of teasing, Sebastian gives MC exactly what she wants  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️

Little Wolf - After taking out an Ashwinder camp, Sebastian and MC have some feral sex in the woods.  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

Daddy - The first time MC calls Sebastian Daddy and the first time he calls himself Daddy  Sebastain x f!MC 🌶️🌸 

Worth the Wait - Sebastian and f!MC have a sweet first time together (Not SiC related) 🌶️ 

Naughty Escapades and a Wily Temptress  - Sebastian and MC make a deal to wait until after taking their NEWTs to have sex, but MC can’t stop teasing him (Not SiC related) 🌶️ Sebastian x f!MC 

Ask and Headcannons:

 Sebastian and Ominis kinks

Sebastian and Ominis favorite positions/if they prefer head or penetration 

Sebastian and Ominis how loud they are/their dirty talk 

Sebastian and Ominis what their first times with f!MC are like 

How the trio became a throuple 

Ghost on the Shore - Sebastian Sallow HC 🌸

Daddy Dom Sebastian (Not SiC related)

The start of Sebinis from Sebastians POV 

Ominis knows nothing about girls and Sebastian is totally wiling to teach him (Not SiC related)

Sebastian and Ominis as Doms and Subs  

How Sebastian and Ominis react to MC dancing with another guy at the Yule Ball 🌸 

Life after Hogwarts with Sebastian and Ominis 🌸

Hogwarts Legacy Character Reactions: 

HLC react to MC asking them to have a threesome 🌸 

HLC react to MC taking them to a sex shop to pick out new toys and lingerie 

HL boys pick out lingerie for f!MC 

HL girls pick out lingerie for f!MC and she picks some out for them 

HLC react to being allowed to touch MCs face for the first time  🌸

HLC react to you flinching when they try to touch you for the first time 🌸

Criminal Minds :

Oneshots: Starving - Your boss, Aaron Hotchner, calls you into his office for an unexpected reason Aaron Hotchner x f!bau!reader 🌶️

Headcannons: Hotch loves to buy his lover fancy lingerie