#i love penelope with all my heart shes been nothing but kind to me ever and i wish her nothing but the best 💜

[the-kipsabian]

Penelope :)

shes my favorite girl 💜 the aesthetic i aspire to have, a true fashion icon for me. shes the btggf i want to be lmao

also shes fucking adorable, an incredibly kind person. it sucks so much that the world has been handing her really bad cards like the past year, cause i really miss her in the ring; shes not perfect, but every time she steps inside the ring shes better than the last time and shes just really fun to watch. i just miss her a lot :(

[thetarsier]

Hiii I’ve been checking your blog and I love it, can I request secret relationship with Hotch? Like, Jack reveals your secret by accident by calling reader mom or smthn like that ❤️❤️❤️

a/n: I LOVE this.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: sickness (but like fever, not actually being sick), Derek Morgan being a little shit, not proofread

<3: aaron hotchner x reader

When you’d woken up that morning to Jack coughing and sneezing his little heart out, you’d known what kind of day it was going to be. 

Seeing his condition, it was obvious that he shouldn’t be going to school, and once Aaron had woken up, too, he’d agreed. However, there was work to be done in the office for both of you, and you didn’t want to risk getting Jessica’s children sick, too. The only option was to bring Jack into the office. He could sleep on Aaron’s couch for the day, and then go home to bed straight after. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. 

As usual, you and Aaron took separate cars to work, you parked nowhere near each other, and Aaron always waited at least five minutes after you’d exited your car to leave his. All countermeasures to keep the keen eyes of your coworkers away from the two of you and your well-hidden relationship. 

It hadn’t been going on for long - just under a year - but things had moved quickly, and you basically lived with Aaron and Jack, only going back to your apartment occasionally when you and Aaron decided it would be best for him and Jack to be alone. You loved the both of them from wherever you were, staying with them was just a way to love them a little bit closer. 

And, boy, was there love. Much to your surprise, Jack had called you ‘mom’ the other day by accident, which led to you going back to your apartment while he and Aaron had a conversation about Haley. You felt flattered that he’d felt so safe and loved around you that the name had been given to you, and Aaron assured you that he wasn’t upset about it. 

When you’d gotten back, Jack had hugged you tightly around your neck and whispered: “My mommy is watching over me, and you do that, too. So you’re also my mom. Dad said that I could call you that if I wanted to.”

“Yeah? You want to, buddy?” You’d asked, fighting back your tears. 

“Yeah! D’you want to come play?” He brushed off the issue as if it were nothing, pulling away from you and grabbing your hand instead, leading you into the living room where his toys were. 

That lively boy had been replaced now by a quiet, sick one, and you tried not to be distracted by the sounds of him coughing in Aaron’s office. You had paperwork to do. You were supposed to be working. Jack had his father, and Penelope, who seemed to be making more trips to the water cooler today than she ever had before.

“God, it’s awful, isn’t it?” JJ’s words made you turn your attention to her from where you’d been staring at the door of Aaron’s office. 

“Sorry?”

“Hearing children in pain. It never gets better. It’s actually worse once you have a child,” She shook her head, “I wish there was something I could do.”

“Yeah,” You said on an exhale, shuffling some of your papers to give your hands a task, “I might go and see if they need anything, actually.”

“I doubt it. Hotch probably has everything Jack could need right in there,” JJ patted your shoulder as she continued her walk past your desk, “You don’t want to risk catching whatever he has.”

You nodded, swallowing as you looked down at your computer. You had to focus. If you went in there, all of the secrecy that you and Aaron had worked for would be put under a microscope. If Jack found comfort in you, like you knew he would, if Aaron let you stay with him in his office when he’d kicked everyone else out within a couple of minutes, every separate car journey to work would be rendered useless. 

Profilers were a nuisance. They saw everything, every minute shift in behaviour. They would definitely notice the signs of a relationship between you and your boss. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Morgan asked as he came up behind you, placing his hands on your tense shoulders, “You’ve been staring at your computer screen for a while.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just distracted.” 

He didn’t seem to buy it. Or, rather, he did, he just knew that there was a deeper reason as to why you were distracted that you weren’t mentioning. His fingers pushed into your shoulders as if he were trying to knead the secrets out of you. 

“Oh, I get it,” He mumbled next to your ear and your heart rate began to pick up, “Someone’s got a new boyfriend.”

“What?” You squeaked, turning in your chair and forcing Morgan’s hands from you, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re checking your phone a lot, you’re distracted, you’re happier recently; all signs point to good sex.”

“Derek! This is a work environment.”

“You’re not denying it,” He grinned, leaning on his own desk that was right behind yours, “So you do have a guy.”

“No! No.” You squirmed under his knowing gaze, dropping your shoulders as you let out a sigh, “Okay, yes. Yes, I do. Now, will you leave me alone to do my work?”

He cheered loudly in success, but your worried glance around the space forced him to quieten down, and after he didn’t make any other noises for a few seconds, the eyes in the office that had been drawn to the two of you quickly left again. 

“Just…” You turned back to your computer, “Don’t mention anything to anyone, okay?”

“Only if you answer one question: was I right? Is the sex good?”

You imagined what Derek’s reaction might be if he realised he was talking about his boss, the thought almost put a smile on your face. Instead, you glared at him over your shoulder, and he raised a challenging eyebrow at you. 

“Hey, baby girl-” He shouted across the office while holding eye contact with you. 

“No! Okay fine,” You leaned closer to him, speaking in a hushed whisper, “The answer to your question is yes.”

His shit-eating grin only grew wider at your answer, and when Penelope approached the two of you, Derek made an excuse of asking her out to lunch, and the two of them left the office together. You could finally relax. 

Until the sound of Jack’s coughing punctured through the air again. 

As much as Derek annoyed you (much like an older sibling), he was brilliant at distracting you from everything going on in your life. And even though you were sure that he was telling Penelope your secret at that very moment, you couldn’t help but be a little bit grateful that you’d managed to tear your mind away from the child in Aaron’s office.

It was scary to think about what could happen if the people in your office found out about you and Aaron. As a woman, it was undoubted that you would get at least one comment about sleeping your way to the top, and even though HR knew about your relationship in order to keep professionalism, you couldn’t imagine the kinds of issues that might arise with other agents if they all knew about your relationship. People could be made uncomfortable, or accuse Aaron of preferential treatment; your jobs could be on the line. 

But, then again, it would relieve a huge weight off your shoulders. You wouldn’t have to worry about taking separate cars, waiting in the parking lot, or having to stay away from the person who brought you the most comfort when you were really in need of a hug. 

No. No, you couldn’t be public about your relationship until either one of you didn’t work at the BAU anymore, which you were sure wouldn’t be happening any time soon. 

The door to Aaron’s office opened, and Jack appeared, holding Aaron’s hand and a blanket that he hadn’t let go of since he’d left the house. You tried to seem unfazed, glueing your eyes to your paperwork, but your heart beamed out of your chest when Jack pulled Aaron to a stop right beside your desk. 

“Hey, you feeling okay, buddy?” You asked, keeping your voice gentle. The burn of about a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly became apparent.

Which was why, when Jack held his arms up to be brought up into your lap, loudly exclaiming ‘Mommy!’ as you hesitantly pulled him up, you knew there was no way you could hide. Even if he hadn’t said anything, the way he melted into you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, was probably a dead giveaway. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” You cooed as you rubbed his back, looking up at Aaron, who was shielding you somewhat with his body as he leaned against your desk, watching you with a hint of a smile, “It’s okay, baby. You’ll feel all better soon, I promise.”

“How soon is soon?” Jack groaned into your skin, and you kissed his hot cheek.

“Really, really soon, buddy, okay?”

You continued rubbing his back as the people around you pretended to continue on with their tasks. Aaron rolled Derek’s desk chair from behind his desk and pulled it up next to you and Jack, lips stretching into a thin line. 

“He was upset, asking for you. I thought I’d rather he be happy than us protect ourselves,” He explained in a low voice, “I probably should have asked.”

“It’s alright,” You assured him, “I’m glad you brought him out, it’s been killing me all day. What are we going to tell everyone?”

“I’ll tell them to mind their own business,” He placed a hand on your knee, away from the view of everyone else, “We did everything right, telling HR but keeping it a secret from the team. It can be a sort of… relief that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get him back to your office,” Jack had fallen asleep against you, so you stood up carefully, keeping his head still with one hand cradling it, “Morgan will be back soon, and we should probably figure out a strategy to best tell him-”

“Oh!” Came a shout across the office as you and Aaron were halfway up the stairs. You squeezed your eyes shut, not believing in your bad luck, and Aaron turned around to look at Morgan, “Hotch is the secret boyfriend?”

“Watch your volume, Morgan,” Aaron warned, “As much as it may not seem like it, you’re still at work.” The ‘And don’t you dare wake up my son’ was implied, but Jack did nothing more than wiggle around in your arms at the loud noises.

“Oh, man,” Derek grinned as you and Aaron continued to walk up the stairs to his office, “I know something about you, Hotch.” 

His taunts were blocked out by Aaron opening his office door for you and closing it behind himself, twisting the lock and pulling the blinds as you set Jack down on his sofa and tucked his blanket around him. 

“What is he talking about?” Aaron asked once you’d stood up, hands coming to rest on your waist in a way they never had while you two were at work.

You relished in his touch, morphing it into a hug as you wound your arms over his shoulders. At home, he was always touching you, always somewhere close, but it was different - new - in his office, where the only things exchanged between the two of you were longing looks and papers. 

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

[i-hate-accidents]

Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?

the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3

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i hate accidents: a drabble

femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington

summary:  the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son

sections:  I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball

y/n:  bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents

content warnings:  brief description of grief from losing a parent

word count:  623

author’s note:  the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~

𝄆 ⚘ ✸ ✕ ✸ ⚘ 𝄇

anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.

"brother," begins benedict, "i—"

"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.

"if you just let me explain—"

"have you compromised y/n?"

"what!"

"i said!  have you compromised y/n!"

"how can you even insinuate that!  of course i have not!"

"and why should i trust what you say?"

"because i am your brother!"

"precisely!  you are my brother!  you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"

that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.

"well!  i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.

"and you expect me to believe that?  when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"

lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory.  the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—

"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say.  are you finally admitting to your guilt?"

"we were discussing my art!  that is all!"

"i am not a fool, benedict!"

"you look like one!"

"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady!  our friend!  how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"

"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"

anthony shakes his head.

"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"

it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.

benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.

"benedict, please.  your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope.  good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."

"i have not said anything of the sort!"

"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"

benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.

of course i do.  of course i love y/n.

he swallows.

"it matters not what i feel.  it matters what she deserves."

y/n deserves someone good.  someone who will not hurt her.  someone who is not me.

anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity.  still, it reassures him.  anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had.  it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives.  whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.

anthony sighs.

"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"

benedict rolls his eyes.

"this is where all my art is!  but it shan't happen again."

"oh, that i will make certain."

he furrows his eyebrows.

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion?  you have completely disgraced y/n!"

"nothing!  happened!"

"bedchamber!  together!  ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure.  "i am done with this conversation.  we have kept y/n waiting long enough.  we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event.  we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."

benedict puts his hands over his face.  of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?

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[em-prentiss]

Hello. Big fan of your writing. I was wondering if you could write Hotchniss from someone else’s perspective maybe the team watching them being cute and soft together and them seeing their new side?👀🤭

Heyy, thank you!! I really love this idea, so I hope you like my execution of it <3

you can see it with the lights out (you are in love)

----

“I think,” Penelope whispers, her smile evident in her voice, “this is the best thing to ever come out of the BAU.” Her eyes snag on the way Aaron buckles Emily’s seatbelt before he shuts her door. She’d been disbelieving at first, unable to imagine the two of them together. But now, looking at them, the gentleness of their love, she can’t imagine things being any different.

The car pulls away and JJ smiles at the sight of Emily’s head resting against the window. She’s already fast asleep.

“I think you’re right.”

Aaron and Emily, through different lenses.

Word count: 5.2k

Mild cw for some minor injuries, nothing graphic but a little blood mentioned

----

It starts slowly. 

At first absolutely nothing changes, Aaron and Emily going about their work as Hotch and Prentiss—last names, the occasional (and still prevalent) disputes—as if the team hadn’t caught them making out in a storage closet.

It takes a few months for them to evolve further than the generously filled cup of coffee with a gentle hand to the shoulder and the secret holding of their fingertips beneath the table, a habit of theirs they still haven’t broken.

Their armor starts crumbling on a rowdy night out. One Aaron does not want to go to. 

“Let’s just go home, Em.” It’s as close as he’s ever come to pleading in the nine months they’ve been together. It’s been a strangely quiet day and all he wants to do is go home and spend time with her and Jack, make them dinner and fall asleep on the couch to Cars with his head in Emily’s lap and her hand in his hair.

“And do what? Eat dinner and go to bed at 10 like old people?” Emily wrinkles her nose in distaste. “It’s our weekend, Aaron. The first one without a case in god knows how long.” 

She’s restless, her body humming with unspent energy, and today is exactly the kind of day where a night out at a bar actually sounds good. She perches on the edge of his desk, lets her knee touch his. “Please?” She smiles, her eyes bright and her smile brighter still.

Aaron wilts. He has yet to find a way to say no to her when she flashes those brown eyes, dark and beautiful and like a knife straight through his heart. 

He sighs. Emily’s smile widens; she knows she’s got him. 

“It’ll be fun,” she assures, the open blinds of his office only barely holding her back from kissing his downturned lips. 

“You’ll get to touch me,” she reminds him, reaching her hand out to soothe the furrow between his brows instead. “And dance with me.” Her thumb softens the creased skin, runs over it until it’s flat. Aaron feels his lips tip upward in a smile.

“And you’ll finally get to scare off any guy that tries to hit on me,” Emily grins, recalling the last time they went out with the team. She could see the tight line of Aaron’s jaw all the way from the bar, his forceful gaze searing onto her skin as he gripped his drink so hard she thought the glass would shatter in his hand.

“Okay,” he concedes.

Emily beams at him. She leans forward, her nimble fingers undoing his tie with ease. Aaron’s eyebrows shoot up. “Undressing me in the office already?” He asks mildly. “At least close the blinds.”

“Hush,” Emily laughs as she slips the tie from his neck. Tossing it carelessly on his lap, she pops his collar and undoes the first two buttons of his shirt, feeling her whole body heat under his gaze as he watches her closely. “I’m making you bar-ready.” She murmurs. 

“I see.” Aaron hums. Emily looks up at him and smiles as she meets his eyes. She brings a hand up and runs it through his hair, thoroughly messing it up. 

“Hey!” He laughs and grips her wrist lightly. “You said bar-ready, not…delinquent.” He protests.

Emily laughs and swats his hand away. It falls to her thigh as she continues messing up his hair, shaking up the leftover gel in it until it’s soft and wilting over his forehead.

“That’s better,” she murmurs, proud of her handiwork. Now he somewhat resembles the Aaron she sees at home, soft and relaxed. Only one thing left. “Take off your jacket.”

Aaron sighs and obliges. “Any other orders, Ma’am?” He looks up at her as he places his jacket on the desk, his softened gaze betraying his annoyed act.

Emily smiles coyly and takes his right hand into her lap. “Roll up your sleeves,” she says as she starts doing the task herself, popping open the button on his cuff and rolling his sleeve up to his elbow.

Through the open window, JJ, Morgan, and Reid watch with rapt attention as Emily perches on their boss’ desk and casually attacks his meticulous appearance, her fingers mussing his hair and undoing his buttons.

“Interesting,” JJ murmurs when Hotch simply shakes his head at her, his laugh visible even from the bullpen in the way his large shoulders shake. He does nothing to stop her, leaning back in his chair when she takes his hand into her lap, her head bent as she fusses with his sleeve.

“Weird is more like it,” Morgan mutters. He’s never seen Emily smile so wide at Hotch before, never seen him smile like that at all.

“He’s letting her sit on his desk,” Reid comments, mildly intrigued at their lack of interest in the open blinds.

“That, pretty boy, is one of the many advantages that come with dating the boss,” Morgan says, his voice dripping faux wisdom. 

“You seem like you know all about that,” Reid retorts snarkily. 

Morgan exclaims in surprise and JJ huffs out a laugh, “Behave, both of you,” she looks behind her to find Hotch and Emily walk out of his office. “Or else Mom and Dad will ground you both.” She winks at them, promptly shutting them up.

________

He’s tense against her, his eyes fixed on the table their friends are at. Reid ducks his head to avoid Aaron’s gaze but Rossi meets him head on, making him grimace. 

Emily turns to glare at them, her icy expression forcing Rossi to turn away. 

“Ignore them.” She loops her arms around Aaron’s neck and tilts his head down. He meets her warm eyes, feels the ruckus around them slow down to a buzz as she threads her fingers into his hair and smiles reassuringly at him. She presses closer to him and he relaxes, his shoulders slumping as she presses a lingering kiss to his jaw.

Until he hears the loud squealing and whooping of Penelope and Morgan back at their table. Aaron instinctively turns to them, his eyes leaving Emily’s. She feels him tense against her again and holds back a growl.

Emily tugs his head back to her, a little too forcefully. “Eyes on me, Aaron.”

His eyes immediately snap back to hers. Emily smiles at the darkened look in them, her words accidentally snapping into a command. He turns his back to the team and focuses solely on her. “Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a smile before he bends down and presses them against hers.

Emily grins into the kiss. She links their fingers together and tugs him deeper into the dance floor until they’re crammed between throngs of people, away from the eyes of the team. 

She starts moving against him and he’s gone, so far gone, any inhibitions disappearing as Emily moves to the beat of the music in his arms. Aaron finds himself smiling as he matches her rhythm. He suddenly realizes that they’ve never danced together before, at least not like this, with pounding music in his ears instead of her soft sighs and bitten back moans.

He voices the thought out loud to her as his hands tightly grasp her hips and pull her closer. “We’ve never done this before,” he breathes in her ear, feeling her link her fingers together behind his neck.

“Fun, isn’t it?” She smiles brightly, her eyes glittering, and he can’t help but agree. 

“Yeah,” Aaron murmurs, leaning down to kiss her. He slips a hand into her fluffed out hair, his other digging into her waist and feeling the smooth skin peeking out from the hem of her shirt.

Across the bar, two blonde women are clutching each others arms. 

“Oh my god.” Penelope squeals, just barely holding in the urge to jump up and down in glee. “Look at them, Jayje. Hotch is smiling!”

“I see them, Pen,” JJ laughs, but she can’t help but feel her friend’s reaction is just a little bit understandable—just a tiny bit.

Aaron and Emily are deep into the dance floor, lost in their own universe as they dance together, laughing and smiling, their bodies moving against each others with practiced ease. It feels almost private to see, the way Aaron smiles at Emily, how she digs her hands into his hair so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her shirt rises up her stomach, her jeans low enough on her hips that she sees something on her skin. Multiple somethings. Four circular marks, dark against her pale skin and peeking out from the hem of her jeans. JJ frowns, wondering if she got hurt, but she’s moving around carelessly, the bruises obviously not bothering her. She’s about to look away when Hotch’s hands trail lower, his fingers pressing directly on the bruises. They disappear beneath his fingertips, the perfect size, and—oh.

JJ flushes.

They watch as Emily turns around in his arms. She leans into him, cards her fingers through his unusually messy hair and pulls him down for a kiss. His palm slips up her shirt and JJ turns away, swallowing down her surprise.

Penelope grins next to her, officially losing her mind. “Oh my freaking god,” she slurs, throwing back her drink and gripping the glass tightly, “boss-man has moves?” She exclaims in disbelief, her eyes widening. “No wonder Em is all over him.”

JJ doesn’t like to intrude, but her eyes are drawn to them. Hotch seems so carefree, so relaxed, his body limp as if Emily had taken the weight of the world off his shoulders. She sees his face break out in another smile, a dimple dug deep in the cheek she can see—she’d bet money there’s another equally deep one carved into his other cheek—as he says something to Emily. She laughs back, her cheeks flushed, and Hotch brightens, his whole face glowing.

JJ smiles, her heart warming at the sight of them. At first she’d doubted Emily could fall for someone so serious and stoic, but she glows under his gaze, his touch. She doesn’t know how this happened, but she does know one thing; they’re in deep.

“Did you know he has a dimple?” She turns to Penelope, her eyes sparkling.

Emily turns her head slightly and laughs at the sight of JJ and Penelope gawking at them. She’s sure if she was in other situation, any less drunk, she’d have been annoyed. But right now she can’t really bring herself to care.

“They’re losing their shit,” she whispers to Aaron, her lips nipping at the warm skin of his jaw. He hums as she continues her lazy kisses and slips her hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Let them.” He looks down at her, breaking her contact from his skin. Aaron tenderly tucks her dark hair behind her ear, his knuckles lingering on her cheek. He shifts so his back is to their friends and leans down to kiss her, softly, gently, starkly different from the heated kisses they’ve been sharing all night.

“I’m glad we decided to come,” he squeezes her waist. 

Emily’s eyes light up. “Really?”

Aaron smiles. “Really.”

****

Penelope startles when she catches sight of her boss standing in the doorway. It’s still weird to see him like this, as simply Aaron and not Hotch. He’s dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, his lips turning up in a soft smile as he looks at Emily. Her friend is sprawled next to her on the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest and laughing at JJ’s story, cheeks softly flushed pink from the multiple drinks she’d had. She doesn’t notice him yet, her attention on JJ sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Sir Hotch!” Penelope may or may not yell, and Emily’s gaze slides from JJ to Aaron. Her face transforms as she beams at him, her smile spreading impossibly wider as he awkwardly scratches his hair. 

“You don’t have to call me sir outside of work, Garcia.” He insists yet again as he crosses the living room, his eyes already locked on Emily’s.

“Feels weird not to,” she says cheerfully, yelping at JJ’s pinch to her socked foot. What? She mouths at her friend. JJ mimes zipping her lips shut, her eyes wide and curious.

Her comment goes unanswered as Aaron crouches down in front of Emily. “Hi, Em.” He says softly.

Emily smiles lazily. “Hi,” she slurs. She drops the pillow and lurches forward to wrap her arms around his neck. His arms band around her back as she almost slips off the couch and halfway into his lap, her movements unsteady and clumsy. Her knees knock into his chest but he doesn’t seem to mind. She whispers something to him, her dark hair nestled beneath his chin, and he smiles.

Penelope feels something in her melt at the still unusual sight of his dimples, his smile so soft her heart aches. 

The room is too quiet to mask his reply. “I missed you too,” his voice is quiet, low as Emily leans back and gives him a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

Aaron flushes. His eyes dart to Penelope and JJ, who hurriedly look away as Emily mumbles, “Let’s go home,” into his skin, her inhibitions lowered as she slips her fingers into his hair and nuzzles her face away from her friends, into his neck.

Penelope bites her thumb between her teeth, trying to hide a smile as Aaron clears his throat and awkwardly stands up, juggling Emily in his arms as he unsteadily gets to his feet. She feels a grin spreading wide on her face despite her best efforts, a look at JJ telling her she’s struggling, too. They hadn’t seen more of Aaron and Emily since their initial night out, case after case steering them clear of bars and dinners.

At least the alcohol is a good excuse for their unabashed interest.

Hotch—Aaron’s—cheeks are dusted pink as Emily stumbles into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. She lays her head on his shoulder and turns back to her friends. 

“Sorry guys, I hav’ta go,” she tells them, her eyes almost comically wide. “My pretty boyfriend gets lonely when I go out for too long,” she whispers loudly, breaking out into giggles as Aaron bites back a sigh.

“Right, Aaron?” Emily turns to him, her lip bitten between her teeth. Her hand slips off his hip and slides into his front pocket, the movement thoughtless, instinctual. 

Through her drunken haze, Penelope watches Aaron’s cheeks flush bright red, as if he’d been drinking along with them. Another giddy thrill goes through her at this new side of him, another chip of his armor removed and thrown to their feet. The reason for it is still moving impossibly closer to him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

He swallows but doesn’t refuse her touch as she leans into him. “Sure, Emily,” he mutters, clearing his throat and turning to JJ. “Can we have a bottle of water for the ride?” Aaron asks, firmly wrapping his arm around Emily’s waist as she sways against him.

“Uh huh,” JJ nods and pushes herself to her feet, unsteady as she heads to the kitchen. Penelope scrambles up to follow her, socks slipping on the hardwood floors.

“Oh, Jayje, aren’t they the cutest?” She whispers as JJ opens the fridge and takes out a water bottle. “Hotch is blushing,” she sighs dreamily. “I didn’t know he could do that.” Her eyes drift to the living room wall separating them from Aaron and Emily, briefly wishing it were transparent as Emily’s voice faintly drifts toward them.

JJ giggles, “He’s like a tomato,” she agrees, promptly taking out another bottle and pressing it to Penelope’s flushed cheek. Her friend yelps as JJ takes out another bottle for herself along with Emily’s. “Now we know he’s kinda human.” She wiggles her brows.

Penelope gasps loudly. “That’s mean,” she slaps JJ’s arm. “Hotch has always been fully human with me,” she insists firmly, even as her words slur together. 

“Em is just helping him show it more. Isn’t that cute?” She sighs as they walk back to the living room again. She stumbles and JJ loops their arms together, though she’s hardly any more steady.

“’s cute,” she mumbles, resting her head against Penelope’s as they walk into the living room again. 

Emily’s face is firmly tucked into Aaron’s neck, her hands in his back pockets and his arms around her back. He abruptly stops whatever he was saying, his soft voice tailing off into a hesitant smile as he takes the bottle from JJ.

“Thank you, JJ,” he says. His cheeks are decidedly less pink than they were before, but he still doesn’t hold their gazes for long.

“Sure,” she hums in reply. 

Emily untangles herself from Aaron’s arms and gives her friends a joint hug, JJ’s arm still looped through Penelope’s. 

“Night, mes amours.” She gives them quick kisses and bounces back as suddenly as she came, her arms barely wrapping around them before she goes back to Aaron’s side. 

“Next time at my place, yeah?” Emily grabs his hand and pulls it around her shoulders as JJ and Penelope hum in affirmation.

“Good night.” Aaron tells them over his shoulder as Emily pushes him toward the door.

“Night,” the women grin back. JJ smiles at the way he submits to Emily’s will, lets her push him around even with his arm steady around her waist. Who would’ve thought, she sighs as they disappear from view, her heart unbearably warm at the sudden, unexpected happiness her friends had found. 

“Pen’s bangs are nice.” Emily’s voice floats to them from the foyer, wistful and slurry, a couple octaves louder than it usually is. “I should get some too. D’you think I’d look pretty with bangs?”

The door creaks open. Aaron’s voice is low as they walk out into the night. “You’d look pretty in anything.” He says, affection seeping through the words. “Just not tonight, hon.”

The door slams shut behind them and the two blondes wilt against each other, sighs and giggles escaping their parted lips as they see Aaron guide Emily into his car, his hands gentle on her even through the living room window.

“I think,” Penelope whispers, her smile evident in her voice, “this is the best thing to ever come out of the BAU.” Her eyes snag on the way Aaron buckles Emily’s seatbelt before he shuts her door. She’d been disbelieving at first, unable to imagine the two of them together. But now, looking at them, the gentleness of their love, she can’t imagine things being any different.

The car pulls away and JJ smiles at the sight of Emily’s head resting against the window. She’s already fast asleep.

“I think you’re right.”

****

Dave can count on his fingers the amount of times Aaron Hotchner ever lost his shit. Even when he was a quiet, overly confident agent fresh out of the academy, he barely lost his cool, always staying frustratingly in control. 

That is, of course, until Emily walks into the conference room leaning heavily on an officer, blood slowly leaking from a gash in her forehead and her left eye quickly turning sickening shades of purple. 

“Emily.” Aaron jumps up from his seat at the table. She lets go of the officer supporting her and sways on her feet, but Aaron is in front of her in an instant. 

“Woah,” she says quietly as she grips his forearms, her knuckles white and her face bloodless. Dave feels a pang in his heart as she stumbles headfirst into Aaron, her legs shaky and weak.

“What the hell happened?” Morgan demands as Aaron helps Emily into a chair, his brows tightly drawn and his jaw clenched. His hands are soft, though, his voice softer still as he quietly whispers sit down, honey, frowning when Emily slumps into the chair with a low groan.

Dave turns away from them and looks at the officer that accompanied Emily, his brows raising as he waits for an explanation. They were only supposed to interview the victim’s boyfriend. 

The officer pales when Aaron turns to him as well. 

“We saw him outside his apartment, he was already looking like he was ready to bolt. We just introduced ourselves then he kinda…slammed her into a lamppost.” He ends lamely, swallowing as Aaron’s gaze turns vaguely murderous.

Dave doesn’t blame him.

A weak scoff breaks the tense silence. “He wasn’ too happy we wen’ to visit him,” Emily mumbles. She raises her hand to block the lights, her face twisting in a grimace as she leans back into the chair.

Aaron grips the back of her seat, standing guard over her even though the damage is already done. His tone is low when he speaks, buzzing with barely controlled anger. “JJ,” he grits out, “put an APB for that asshole’s car and tell the detective we need to be on the lookout for him. Morgan, call Garcia and have her track his phone. Reid, get me a first aid kit. Now.” He barks, and they all snap into action.

“Than’ god, I really didn’ wanna go to the hospital,” Emily slurs as everyone clears out of the room. She squints at Aaron as he crouches down in front of her. “Y’re all blurry, though.”

Dave reaches for one of the cold water bottles on the table and holds it to Emily’s forehead. “Hold that there, bella,” he says quietly as Aaron works on unlocking his tight jaw. 

Emily holds the bottle without complaint. “Than’s Rossi. Tha’ bastard got me good,” she winces.

“If it’s too bad, we will go to the hospital, Emily.” Aaron says firmly. His eyes don’t leave her as he blows out a breath and gently tilts her face under the lights to see the extent of the damage. Dave can almost hear his teeth grind together as he examines her eye, nearly swollen shut.

“No, ’ron, I don’ need it.” She mumbles. Aaron ignores her as he carefully runs his finger around her eye, prodding along her cheek. He presses on the bruised skin of her nose and she flinches. 

“Ah, fuck, why’d ya do that?” Emily hisses.

He blanches and pulls away as if he’d been burnt, “Sorry, sorry,” he rushes out, dropping his hands from her face. “Just wanted to check if anything’s broken.”

“Is it?” She scowls, holding the bottle with her other hand. 

Aaron shakes his head and steadies the bottle himself. Emily lets go and closes her eyes, her throat bobbing as she swallows. She curls her fingers in the fabric of her pants, her knuckles turning white from her grip.

The sudden silence makes Dave hyper aware of his own presence. 

“Anything you need me to do?” he asks, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding on something unbearably vulnerable; Aaron crouched in front of Emily, her knees pressed against his chest as he holds the bottle to the split skin on her forehead.

“Have Garcia dig into his life,” Aaron says tightly. “We need to work him into the profile, re-interview the parents and their friends and see what their relationship was like.”

Emily opens her eyes and flinches back a little, her knuckles sharpening under her skin. “The lights hurt,” she mumbles. 

Aaron’s pained look doesn’t surprise Dave so much as Emily’s admission, quiet and slurred, clearly meant only for one person. Reid finally comes back with the medical kit and Aaron sets down the bottle, popping the kit open and grabbing a pair of alcohol wipes.

“I know, honey, just close your eyes.” He whispers, gently swiping the wipe over her skin. It grows red in seconds, and he quickly discards it to tear open another one. “You definitely have a concussion.”

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches,” Reid murmurs, leaning forward to examine the gash as Dave leaves in search of the detective. He explains the turn of events and is halfway through re-arranging the interviews when his phone buzzes with a message from Aaron.

Taking Emily back to the hotel. I’ll coordinate with you once she’s settled.

We’ll handle it, Dave sends back, unsurprised by the message. These past few months Aaron has slowly been loosening his tight grip on work, instead shifting his focus to prioritize his son and a certain brunette whenever they needed him.

He sees them walking out of the precinct, Emily leaning heavily against Aaron with her arm around his neck, trying her best not to sway. Aaron’s grip is tight around her back, his steps small as he matches her pace.

Dave is half surprised he doesn’t carry her outright.

****

Spencer stands next to the sliding door leading to the backyard, trying to leech warmth from the living room. He stuffs his cold hands into his pockets and wonders who encouraged Dave to plan a barbecue in the midst of winter. 

“Here,” JJ walks over and hands him a mug of coffee. 

“Oh, perfect, thanks,” he sighs as he wraps his freezing fingers around the mug, tipping it back and feeling the hot coffee scorch his throat as it goes down. JJ hums in response and takes it from him to steal a sip, the cold seeping into her skin despite the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“This really was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?” She laughs as she looks around at the backyard, Emily hissing and spitting as she rubs her arms, Penelope huddling next to the grill and effectively Morgan, her gloved hands wrapped around his bicep. 

Dave seems to be the only one enjoying himself, watching over Morgan and Aaron like a hawk, making sure they don’t burn the steaks as he leisurely sips his scotch.

“Yeah,” Spencer agrees, shivering as a gust of wind cuts through his clothes. 

JJ smiles. “Here,” she opens up the blanket so he can join her. He doesn’t hesitate, eagerly wrapping it around himself and huddling into her for warmth.

“Thanks.” He hums as the cold starts to leave his body. She hands the mug back and Spencer tries not to fuss too much over the idea of her lips touching the same area of the rim as his. He lets it warm his hands instead, his eyes catching on Aaron and Emily next to the grill.

She’s frowning, rubbing her arms as her mouth moves quickly—no doubt in complaint, Spencer thinks with some amusement; he always appreciated Emily’s bluntness. The tip of her nose is red, the sleeves of her sweater stretched over her knuckles as she rubs her palms together, her lips turned down in annoyance.

Aaron smiles at her and passes the tongs in his hands to Dave, who mildly protests as he takes them. Aaron ignores him as he steps away from the grill and in front of Emily. 

JJ’s arm presses into Spencer’s as she reaches for his coffee mug again. He hands it to her absentmindedly, his eyes on Aaron as he opens up the sides of his jacket.

“That’s weird,” he murmurs as Emily’s frown disappears. “Why’s he—oh.”

She walks into Aaron’s arms and promptly stuffs herself inside his jacket. 

He hears her laugh as Aaron tucks the sides of his jacket closed around her body, fitting her snugly against him and pressing his lips to her hair as she snuggles closer. Emily’s scowl is nowhere to be seen as she looks up at him, her lips twisting in a smile as she says something, too far away for Spencer to hear.

He feels his heart grow warm suddenly, as if he were the one tucked into someone’s jacket. Spencer smiles a little, his mind clocking the difference between this Aaron and Emily and the ones he’d known a year ago. They used to be tense and stiff, hesitant to show outward affection as if someone would scold them for it. But they’re both fully relaxed now, soft dimples in each of their cheeks as they ignore everyone else, brown eyes locked on brown.

“Wish I had that,” Spencer mumbles to himself, acutely feeling the cold sink into his bones. 

JJ turns to him in surprise, an excited sparkle in her eyes. “A relationship, you mean?” Her brows raise into her hairline.

She looks far too excited at that prospect. Spencer shudders, “God, no. The warmth,” he clarifies, looking down at JJ and giving her a wry smile. “They look awfully comfortable, don’t you think?”

JJ laughs as she looks back at Aaron and Emily, the two of them huddled close together. Her head is tucked under his chin and his lips are pressed to her hair, his hands holding the sides of the jacket closed over her back. There’s not an inch of space between them.

“They do,” she agrees.

However, not everyone enjoys the domesticity.

“Hey lovebirds!” Morgan calls out, pretending to twist his mouth into an irritated frown. “How about you make yourselves useful?” 

Penelope slaps his arm and he bites back a grin.

Emily rolls her eyes and puts her lips to Aaron’s ear, mouthing something that looks an awful lot like flip him off.

Spencer is proven right when Aaron hesitates, his hands tightening on her back. “That’s childish,” he hears him say. 

Emily heaves a huge sigh and turns her head back to meet Morgan’s gaze. “Fuck off, Morgan,” she grumbles and huddles close to Aaron, fitting her head under his chin. “You wish you were as warm as me right now.” 

“Like I want to be that close to your boyfriend,” he scoffs, setting down his tongs. “Besides, I got my own babygi—”

“He’s my fiancé, I’ll have you know.” She retorts, the way her eyes widen telling Spencer the words slipped past her lips without much thought.

It’s quiet for a few stunned seconds before Aaron breaks the silence. 

“Emily.” He laughs, the sound breaking them all from their reverie. “It hasn’t been two days,” he shakes his head, but he’s smiling at her, amused and utterly infatuated.

“Sorry,” she grins up at him, not looking sorry in the least as Penelope grabs her shoulders and pulls her out of his jacket. 

Emily yelps and stumbles backward, but the blanket flaps against Spencer’s side and suddenly JJ’s there to steady her, hands tight on her shoulders.

They squabble around her and Spencer smiles as she takes out the chain tucked beneath her sweater, the one he’d seen the outline of earlier today and asked her about. Spencer tunes out the squeals as her ring glints in the weak winter sun and raises his brows in mock surprise as he approaches Aaron along with the other guys.

“Congratulations, Hotch,” he grins, his words drowned out by Morgan’s enthusiasm and Dave’s I knew it.

And when Aaron smiles, the curve of his dimple is no longer unusual, but familiar.

[polinsupremacy]

I found this WIP in my notes app, and I was thinking of posting it after some editing and development, what do you think? Slight CW. Nothing major though

“There was a carriage accident. The horse was spooked, and she was thrown into a ditch.” Was what he had been hearing.

“It was cataclysmic,” said one.

“Oh, that poor lass, only twenty and three years of age,” said another.

My heart began to race, who was it? Please, for the love of God, don't let it be Pen.

But, as soon as I saw Eloise, my heart sank. I had to see her for myself, I needed to see her.

I raced over to the location of the carriage, and my knees gave out.

The once peaches and cream skin I knew all too well was now pale and splattered with blood. What I saw next made my stomach churn, there was wood pierced through her. I didn't believe it was real. Not until I heard the blood-curdling scream of her mother.

She was gone; the love of my life, my purpose, the reason I came back to London was gone.

I never got to tell her how much I loved her. I never got to say goodbye.

In the days following, Eloise was completely inconsolable, and Mama’s eyes were misty with unshed tears.

Anthony and Benedict had forlorn looks on their faces as well. They may not have been as close to Penelope as their wives, Eloise or I, but they had known her since leading strings.

Gregory and Hyacinth had not spoken a word, nor had they smiled.

Not that I care. I would rather be anywhere but here.

Everything reminded me of her.

Even the settee reminded me of her. In the settee that Eloise currently occupied, Penelope once sat alongside Eloise, gossiping, reading, and observing.

She wasn’t supposed to die.

She was too good, too kind.

She deserved to live a long happy life.

The days bled into one another and suddenly it was her funeral, and when I walked up to the casket, my knees had gone weak; I began sobbing, it felt as though my heart shattered and started clawing it’s way out of my body. I felt my soul implode and cry for the loss of my love.

Anthony and Benedict had to carry me out.

All I did for weeks was drink and sleep.

There was no light, no happiness without her.

Without her, there was no point of living.

Her smile could light up a room.

Her intelligence could intimidate even the most well-read of men.

I could pick her out in a room full of people with her beautiful red hair.

Now she was gone; she was ripped away from me.

I saw no end to the pain I was enduring.

“Maybe if I told her I loved her she wouldn’t have gotten on to that carriage,” I said. My voice breaking into a sob.

I woke up panting, sweat dripping down my face.

I looked down to make sure that it was just a dream; oh thank God it was.

She was still in my arms. She was still alive. The dream felt too real for my liking. So, I held her closer and tighter than I thought could ever be physically possible. I needed to make sure that dream never became a reality. The mere thought of her dying made my heart ache with unbearable pain. And before I could stop myself, I started crying.

I couldn’t help it, without Penelope, there was just darkness.

I must have shed some tears onto Penelope because her eyes started to flutter open.

My green eyes met her blue ones, and once she realized I was crying, she sat up.

Her eyes were tired but worried.

“Colin, what is the matter?” She asked me, her voice slightly raspy from sleep.

I could never lie to her. She always saw right through me. I didn't even try to conceal my tears or hide the truth behind them. I began explaining my dream to her.

Instead of laughing at me, she just hugged me.

Cradling me in her embrace, she whispered sweet nothings into my ear.

“It's okay, Col. I'm here.”

“I love you.”

“Everything is alright, I'm right next to you.” She knows me so well.

She knows that I hate myself for making her wait twelve years.

She knows that I often think about being too late.

She knows that I have an agonizing fear of losing her. But, with her voice soothing me, I fell asleep in her comforting embrace.

[themetaphorgirl]

I hope you’re doing okay today Darling!!

I’ve been craving a soft Aaron and Spencer Drabble, I’m not even sure of the circumstances but just Spencer absolutely refusing everyone any sort of interaction or affection, he just want to be with his bubba, only wants him to cuddle him, carry him, all that fun stuff - maybe it’s at like a weird stage in the future where Spencer is acknowledging Alex and James getting together and wanting to give Alex some space so his focus just moves to Aaron in the meantime?? But also Aaron low-key loves it… idk, do with that what you will!!

Sending love always! 💙

This blended with wanting to write some Hotchley, so please enjoy this very squishy and sweet drabble.

----------

Being invited to the Lincoln House Saturday movie night was a huge deal. 

It wasn’t like Aaron’s friends didn’t approve of her or anything- Haley knew they liked her, and she and Penelope were definitely friends. But there was a specific kind of closeness that the nine of them shared, an inner circle that she didn’t belong to. And that was okay. 

(Also, if she was honest, Aaron’s twin sister made her a little nervous. Alex was unfailingly kind and nice, but Haley couldn’t help but feel intimidated by a girl with straight As, fluency in multiple languages, and a ballet scholarship. And she knew that Alex would not hesitate if she did anything at all to break Aaron’s heart.)

But she had caught Aaron’s eye in the hallway during a passing period on Friday, and he had crossed through the crowd to catch up to her. “Hi,” she said, a little breathless, hugging her books to her chest. 

“Hey, I was hoping I would run into you,” he said. 

He said something else but she didn’t quite catch it. She was too busy staring at him. Aaron was beautiful, with his serious dark eyes and his high sharp cheekbones and the cut line of his jaw. His hair was swept back from his forehead, not a strand out of place, and his uniform fit him perfectly. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said, hoping she answered him correctly and wondering if he would ever feel as thunderstruck looking at her as she did when she looked at him. 

“Yeah, it’s my turn to pick the movie for movie night this Saturday, and Penelope suggested I ask you to come hang out with us,” Aaron said. “We’ll probably start around four o’clock. Would that be okay?”

“Yes!” she said. “I mean…yes, yeah, that sounds like fun.”

“Great,” he said, and when he smiled at her his eyes lit up. “You can text me if you need to. Or Penelope, uh…you have her number too, right?”

“Yeah, I do, don’t worry,” she said. 

“Hey, Hotch, I have a question for you!” a kid in a red Lincoln tie called, and Aaron walked away, his expression falling back in serious lines. Haley resisted the urge to sigh dreamily. It wasn’t a date, but she was going to spend more time with him, at least. 

She tried on half a dozen outfits before she decided on exactly what she was going to wear. “Aren’t you just hanging out with the angry Lincoln kid and his weirdo friends?” Harper said as she lounged on her bed and scrolled idly through TikTok. “You really don’t have to dress up.”

“I’m not dressing up, I just want to look nice,” Haley objected. “And Aaron isn’t angry. He’s just…serious.”

Harper snorted. “Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “He looks like the human version of a thundercloud. I think his face would crack if he smiled.”

“He’s nothing like that, he’s so sweet,” Haley said. She looked herself up and down in the mirror. “This is cute but not trying too hard, right?”

“Yeah, you like fine,” Harper said. She glanced over her shoulder. “Somebody’s texting you.” Haley picked it up and smiled. “Ooh, what’s that face for?”

“Aaron wants to meet me early at the Honeybean for a coffee run,” she said. “I’m going to go right now?”

“Oh, an actual date?”

“No, no, we’re just hanging out,” Haley said. She spritzed on her favorite perfume and immediately second guessed herself, maybe it was too much. “And I won’t say no to getting coffee with a cute boy.”

“He’s not that cute, he’s just tall!” Harper called after as she left the room. Haley rolled her eyes. Aaron was cute, she’d heard the other girls in theatre club talking about him. But Harper was right, he was always so serious and solemn. She wondered what it would take to get him out of his shell.

It was a chilly day, on the verge of drizzling, and she regretted not grabbing a jacket on the way out. I’ll get a hot coffee and that’ll fix it, she thought. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the door to the coffee shop. Be cool, Brooks. You’re just hanging out with Aaron and his friends. 

She caught sight of him immediately. His dark hair was unstyled, falling soft and floppy over his forehead, and he was dressed in jeans and a dark blue zipup hoodie she’d seen him wear to rehearsals. But to her surprise, he wasn’t alone. 

“Hi!” Aaron said, his eyes lighting up. 

“Hi!” Spencer echoed happily. He held Aaron’s hand and smiled up at her. 

“Sorry, he just really wanted to come with me,” Aaron said, absently running his hand over Spencer’s tousled hair. 

“No, no, it’s fine!” Haley said. “Hi, Spencer.”

“We’ve been sent to pick up everyone’s coffee orders,” Spencer informed her. “Emily hasn’t had caffeine yet today and there’s a distinct chance she might murder Dave without it.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Haley laughed. 

She stood next to Aaron in line, close enough to smell the spicy clean scent of his body wash. “So are you going to auditions for the black box show?” she asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “One musical might be enough for me.”

“Oh, no, you have to!” she said. “You were so good. And I could totally see you in this show.”

His ears turned faintly pink as he ducked his head, almost shy. “I think you’re just desperate for more guys to audition,” he said. 

She elbowed him lightly. “I mean, yeah, but also you’re really talented,” she teased. 

Spencer tugged on the hem of Aaron’s hoodie. “Hotch, I can’t see what’s in the case,” he said. “Could you pick me up, please?”

Aaron picked him up easily and set him on his hip. “Better?” he asked. 

“Yes, thank you,” Spencer said. He wrapped his arms around Aaron’s neck. “Can we get something for Alex?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, I think we can do that, if you see something you think she’d like,” he said. 

Haley smiled at the sight of them. She still wasn’t exactly sure how Aaron’s family worked- she was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that neither Alex nor Spencer were actually related to him- but he was clearly fond of the little boy, and Spencer clearly adored him. They were so sweet. 

“Hi, you ready to order?” the barista at the register asked. 

Aaron dug his phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, hi,” he said. He balanced Spencer comfortably on his hip as he pulled up his list. “I need a large cold brew with light iced, nothing in it, and a large strawberry green tea…”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been sent on the coffee run; he ordered half a dozen drinks as he read off his list. “Bubba, can we get Birdy a coffee cake? She likes those,” Spencer said. 

“Yeah, of course,” Aaron said. He bounced him lightly. “And do you want a cake pop?”

“Yes, thank you!” Spencer said.

Aaron turned to Haley. “What would you like?” he asked. 

She blinked. “Oh!” she said. “Oh, you don’t need to get me anything.”

He smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “But I want to,” he said. He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Besides, Emily sent me with her black Amex, so the sky’s the limit.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” she laughed. “A hot caramel macchiato, please.” 

“Did you know that in Italian macchiato means ‘stained milk’?” Spencer said. 

“No, I actually didn’t,” Haley said. 

Aaron set Spencer down carefully. “Here, Bug, you can carry these,” he said, handing him the snacks. He brushed his dark hair back from his eyes, almost nervously. “Do you mind helping me carry these?”

She nodded and he held out one of the drink carriers. Her fingertips trailed over his as she took it. “Thanks,” she said, and he smiled at her, a little bashfully. 

“We should, um…we should probably go,” Aaron said. “We need to get the movies started.”

“Movies, plural?”

“We’re going to watch the Indiana Jones trilogy!” Spencer piped up. “I’m excited. I’m not well-versed in pop culture but I like Stephen Spielberg’s works so far.”

“Oh, really?” Haley said. She was never sure what was going to come out of Spencer’s mouth next, but she did have a mental list of questions a mile long. “What’s been your favorite so far?”

“Jaws, I think.”

“Jaws gave you nightmares,” Aaron pointed out, holding the door open with his hip as they walked out of the shop. 

“So did ET!” Spencer objected. “And everyone promised me it was a kid’s movie!”

“ET gave me nightmares when I was a kid too,” Haley said. “The scene when he’s all wrinkled up and dying? Terrifying.”

Aaron laughed. She smiled up at him, and this time when she brushed her hand against his their fingers intertwined, just long enough for him to squeeze and then let go. “I was scared of Snow White,” he admitted. “When I was like three. The whole hag thing.”

“When the film premiered in 1937, movie theaters kept having to replace their seats because kids were getting so scared of the evil queen that they would wet their pants,” Spencer said. 

“I didn’t get that scared,” Aaron said wryly. He glanced up at the rapidly darkening sky. “Jesus, it’s going to pour today, isn’t it?”

Spencer slipped his hand into Aaron’s. “It never rains like this in Las Vegas,” he said. 

“You’ll get used to it, Bug,” Aaron said, squeezing his hand. “For now let’s just get back to Lincoln, okay?”

The rain held off just long enough for them to make it into the lobby; Haley shook a couple of raindrops from her hair. She has never actually been inside Lincoln House before, and she tried not to make her gawking too obvious as they climbed the stairs. Everyone knew Lincoln was for the “troubled kids,” kids that were on the edge of getting expelled from their own schools but had some kind of exceptional academic or athletic or artistic talent that made them desirable enough to St. Thaddeus to offer them a scholarship. The building certainly didn’t look as nice and and new as her own dorm did- the paint was peeling in places and the architecture was shabby and outdated- but there was a kind of warmth and coziness to it, especially when they made it to the common room. 

“Hotch, thank god, I need caffeine,” a girl in ripped jeans and a vintage tee shirt said. Haley had seen her around multiple times before; she had never seen her in correct dress code once. “Which one’s mine?”

“Jesus, Emily, give us a second,” Hotch said. He set his drink carrier down on the table and took Haley’s from her. “Everybody can figure out their own.”

Spencer zipped over to where Alex was sitting and held out one of the paper packets as the rest of the kids swarmed the drinks, bickering as they searched through them. “Aaron said we could get you a coffee cake,” he said. 

Alex beamed at him. “Thank you, dearest,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“I got a cake pop!” he said happily. 

A tall boy with soft sandy brown hair leaned over the back of the couch and held out a cup for Alex. “Chai latte?” he said. Alex tilted her head back to be kissed and he happily obliged before handing her the cup. Haley hid a smile. She’d heard the rumors, but they were cute to see in person. 

“Who ordered a macchiato?” JJ called. “None of us ever get macchiatos.”

Haley raised her hand. “That’s mine,” she said, and half the assembled group whipped around to look at her. 

“Oh damn, Haley, when did you get here?” Derek said, grinning at her. 

“I came with Aaron,” she said. 

Penelope made a face. “Who’s Aaron…oh! Hotch!” she said. “I always forget he has a first name.”

“He, um, he asked me to help him with the coffee run,” she said. She glanced around; he wasn’t in the common room and she felt a little awkward. “He invited me for movie night.”

“Oh yeah, we know,” the girl in the ripped jeans said, smirking. Alex shot her a look from across the room and she shrugged. 

“Okay, I’m here, we can start now,” Aaron said as he walked back into the room. He had changed from his jeans to a pair of joggers, and he held a stack of DVDs in his hand. Penelope zipped over to take it from him. “Everybody’s met Haley, right?”

“No, no, not everybody,” Penelope said as she popped the first disc into the DVD player. 

Aaron pointed them out. “That’s Emily, that’s Dave, that’s James,” he said. “You know Penelope and Derek, I think you’ve met JJ…and you definitely know Alex and Spencer.”

JJ handed Haley her coffee. “Hopefully we don’t scare you off,” she said. 

“What do you mean? We’re delightful,” Dave said dryly from behind his laptop. 

“Okay, I’ve got it, movie’s starting,” Penelope announced. She found her spot on the floor between Spencer and JJ; the younger kids had made a nest of blankets and pillows. “Everybody find a place to sit.”

Haley glanced around. Aaron beckoned to her; he’d claimed a seat on the couch and there was enough space for her. She sat down gingerly next to him and smiled. 

Rain started tapping against the windows ten minutes into the movie, and pouring hard by thirty. She sipped her coffee and scooted herself a little closer to Aaron’s warmth, as close as she dared. Snuggling would probably be too bold, but she wouldn’t be mad at all if it happened. 

Spencer scrambled up from the floor. “Bubba, I’m cold,” he said. 

“You want my hoodie?” Aaron asked. He unzipped it, and as he pulled it up it rucked up the hem of his shirt, just enough for Haley to catch a little glimpse of his stomach. “There. Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Spencer beamed. The hoodie hung down to his knobby little knees. “Can I sit next to you?”

Aaron blinked. “Uh…you don’t want to sit with the girls?” he asked. 

Alex sat up a little; she had been leaning back against James and skimming a book while the movie played. “You can come sit with me,” she said. 

“No, thank you, I want to sit with Bubba,” Spencer said, clambering up to Aaron’s other side. Aaron glanced over at her, almost apologetically. But it was so cute, she couldn’t be put out. Spencer tucked himself against Aaron’s side, his knees drawn up to his chest, and Aaron draped an arm around him. 

“Okay, I’m ordering pizza, last call for any special requests,” Dave announced. Derek sat up eagerly. “I’m not ordering a whole pizza just for you, Morgan. Haley, anything you’d like? We’re getting cheese, pepperoni, sausage…and Hawaiian, because Penelope makes wild choices.”

“Hawaiian pizza is delicious,” Penelope announced. 

“I’m good, those all sound great,” Haley laughed. 

Aaron leaned closer to her. “Oh, watch this, this is my favorite part of the first movie,” he whispered in her ear. 

Haley shivered happily. He was close enough that his breath could warm her skin, and she hoped she didn’t actually blush. 

So far, though, movie night was going well. Aaron’s friends were fun, they bantered and bickered with each other and commented on what was happening in the movie. She just wished she could have a little more one on one time with Aaron, but she couldn’t blame him for being distracted by his little brother. The storm was getting louder and louder outside, and Spencer was leaning heavily into the protection of Aaron’s side. 

“Pizza’s here!” Dave announced as the credits started to roll, and immediately the nine of them were up and moving like a well oiled machine, setting out plates and napkins and drinks. Haley got up too, even though she wasn’t sure what she should be doing. 

Alex handed her a plate. “Having fun?” she asked. 

“Oh! Yes, I’m having a great time,” Haley said. 

Alex smiled at her. The older girl was more dressed-down than Haley had ever seen her; her long red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore leggings and an oversized flannel shirt that Haley suspected belonged to her new boyfriend. “Aaron has been so excited,” she said. “We’ve been telling him he should invite you for ages, but he’s been nervous.”

“Really?” Haley said. 

“Really, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Alex said. “Sorry about Spencer, though. He’s been having a little trouble adjusting to James and I dating and he’s been a little clingy with Aaron lately.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s adorable,” Haley said. “It’s really cute that they’re so close.”

Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs. “Jesus, those stairs suck,” Dave panted. “Okay, come get your pizza.” Derek bounded past him. “Quick, somebody stop Derek before he takes a whole one for himself!”

“And everybody go quick so we can start the next movie, I want to know what happens,” Emily said.

Haley got herself a piece and sat back down; Aaron took his seat next to her with a plastic to go container of salad. “Aren’t you hungry?” Haley asked. 

“No, just not much of a pizza guy,” Aaron said, dumping a truly insane amount of ranch dressing over the salad. “What did you think of the first movie?”

“It’s great, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to watch them,” she said. 

Aaron grinned, one corner of his mouth tilting up more than the other. “They’re my favorites,” he confessed. “I’ve seen them a million times and I never get sick of them.”

She leaned closer to him, her arm bumping up against his. “That’s how I am with Cinderella, I’ve seen it so many times I could probably quote it in my sleep,” she said. 

Suddenly Spencer popped up and they jumped apart. “Did you know Cinderella’s glass slipper is probably a mistranslation? The original French text actually indicated it was a fur slipper,” he said. 

“I didn’t know that, that’s so interesting,” Haley said. 

Alex leaned forward from her seat. “Spencer, do you want to come sit with me?” she asked. 

“No, thank you,” he said, climbing in between Penelope and JJ in their blanket nest again. 

Emily stood up, wiping pizza sauce off her chin. “All right, let’s start the second one, let’s go,” she announced. 

The second movie was definitely a little more intense than the first. It wasn’t like Saw 5 or anything, but it was still more than she usually liked to watch…but on the other hand, when she jumped and squeaked in surprise at what was happening on the screen, Aaron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

She tried to play it cool but she had a feeling she was failing miserably. They both sat stiffly for a bit, but eventually she relaxed against him and he did too, his hand curling around her shoulder and his thumb rubbing her upper arm lightly. 

It didn’t last. 

Spencer scrambled to his feet as Penelope and JJ shrieked at the screen. “Aaron, can I sit with you?” he asked, glancing briefly back over his shoulder at the TV and immediately turning back. “It’s scary. I don’t think I like it.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere,” Aaron said. Haley missed the warm weight of his arm, but Aaron picked up his little brother and settled him on his lap. “You’re okay, Bug. It’s just a movie, you’re safe.”

“It’s scary,” Spencer mumbled into his chest. 

Haley couldn’t possibly be mad that they were interrupted. Aaron held Spencer on his lap for the rest of the movie, patting his back and talking to him softly during the scariest bits. It was so sweet. Most boys she knew hated their little brothers, but Aaron was so kind and so gentle. 

By the time they finished the second movie Derek had brought out a massive bag of candy to pass around, and Spencer was yawning heavily. “Bug, go get your pajamas on,” Alex said. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“I’m not tired,” he whined, nuzzling his cheek against Aaron’s chest. 

Aaron kissed the top of his head and set him on his feet. “Birdy’s right,” he said. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m going to stay awake, you know,” he said, but he headed down the hall. 

“My money’s on him falling asleep before Sean Connery shows up,” Derek said. 

“How do you know he’s in it?” Emily said. 

“I roomed with Hotch last year, he watches these movies on repeat.”

Haley raised an eyebrow at Aaron, her lips quirking up. He shrugged. “I wasn’t lying, I’ve seen these a lot,” he said, half laughing. 

Spencer made it back just as the third movie started, dressed in his pajamas with a soft ivory colored blanket clutched in his hand, and he made a beeline for Aaron. He lifted him back into his lap and snuggled him close, wrapping the blanket around him. It didn’t take long for the little boy to drop off, his breathing slowing down and deepening. Aaron rocked him a little absently as he slept, patting his hip. 

By the time the movie finished all the kids were a little sleepy, and Spencer was out like a light in Aaron’s arms. “Oh, those were fucking great,” Emily said. “I can see why Hotchner is obsessed with them.”

“Yeah, they’re just so long,” Penelope yawned. 

Alex got up from James’s side. “Here, I’ll put him to bed,” she told Aaron. “You should walk Haley back.”

“Are you sure?” Aaron said. “I can always just-“ But Spencer had woken up just enough to stretch his arms towards Alex, and she picked him up easily. “All right, well…I’ll be back soon.” He turned to Haley. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty late,” she said. “Bye everybody, thanks for letting me join.”

They said goodbye in a happy flurry, with plenty of offers for her to come back any time. That was encouraging, she knew enough that if they didn’t like her they wouldn’t ask her back. 

The rain had stopped but the night was damp and cool, the cobblestones slick under her shoes. She slipped a little and Aaron grabbed her hand, and after the initial shock they kept walking hand-in-hand. 

“Thanks for coming over,” Aaron said. “Sorry Spencer was taking so much of my attention.”

“No, it’s fine, he’s so cute,” Haley said. “It’s sweet to watch you two. He loves you so much.”

Aaron smiled. “Yeah?” he said. “I hope so.”

He walked her to the front door and reluctantly let go of her hand. “That was a lot of fun,” she said. 

“Yeah, it, uh…it was,” he said, ducking his head as if he was suddenly shy. 

Before she could talk herself out of it, she raised herself up on tiptoes, squeezed his arm to brace herself, and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Aaron,” she said. 

Even in the dim light she could see him turning red. “Goodnight, Haley,” he said, his voice squeaking a little as he smiled at her dopily. She squeezed his arm one last time and then ran inside, her heart skipping excited little beats. 

[quotergirl19]

Anthony gives Colin a pep talk:

Just As Colin’s realized he loves Penelope he hears word that Lord Debling intends to make an offer of marriage to her. Colin goes into a full panic and Anthony notices something is wrong with his brother and forces him to admit his feelings. Colin thought that what he felt for her was a deep friendly affection because he’s known her so long but he’s realized he’s in love with Penelope and now he’s about to lose her forever.

Anthony: Colin do not to waste any time. Go to Penelope and make your intentions for her clear.

Colin: Penelope has the chance marry a good and kind man who appreciates her and she would be a titled lady. There’s no way she will settle for the friend who ignored her affection for years, insulted and hurt her. I cannot even bring myself to think of the things she endured because of me. She was so good to me for so long and how did I repay her devotion? By blindly assuming it was just her nature to be a devoted friend and dismissing her feelings as a young girl’s infatuation. Her heart was true and I looked right past her as if she meant nothing to me and she watched me court her cousin. She tried to warn me away from Marina to protect me and nearly burst into tears when I told her I was leaving town on my tour. While I was off traveling she wrote to encourage and support me when she herself was mourning her murdered father. Then I thoughtlessly implied she was not a lady worth courting at her own family’s party. There is so much that I have done unintentionally that I am ashamed of. I have not treated her as a lady, yet she has graciously forgiven me time and time again. I could never hope to deserve her.

Anthony: Take it from me, no good can come from trying to suppress or deny your true feelings. Especially when the love of your life is on the line. If you go to her and tell her how you feel you may have your heart’s desire yet brother! Tell her the truth, that you cannot live with the regret of letting her go without a fight, because she deserves to know that she’s the woman you want for the rest of your life. Think Colin, that woman has loved you the majority of her life. I have seen her pining for your attention since she was 10. Do you truly believe your sweet, patient Penelope will forget what you have meant to her so quickly? Do not be a foolish boy who plays games and hides his affections, be a man. Step up and tell the woman you love that you love her. Show her you love her with your words and actions.

Colin: Why are you not suggesting that I simply go on with life and hope to forget her? Are you not the man who told me that in time, I would forget the woman I loved and it would be as though I’d never loved her at all?

Anthony: Penelope is not some mysterious beauty you met at a ball and flirted with a few times Colin. You have known her forever. She has been part of all our lives for years. You yourself have admitted she is not only Eloise’s greatest friend, she is yours as well and you are in love with her. I’m sorry to tell you brother but Penelope is not the same as Miss Thompson and I fear losing her would break your heart in ways you may never recover from.

Colin: When I was an impulsive and foolish boy who did not even know himself yet Penelope understood me and saw the man I was capable of becoming. She encouraged me to believe in myself and go after my dreams. I have seen the world and done things I might never have done because of her. When I was far from home and more lonely than I could bear, I had Penelope with me in her letters and in my heart. For that alone I will always love her. I know what true devoted love is because of Penelope. There is no other woman who could ever compare. She does not hold a piece of my heart. She is my heart.

Anthony: What are you waiting for man? Go and fight for her. For the future you want. For the happiness you could have together… go and be the man who deserves her love and love her as fiercely as she has loved you all these years.

Colin: Can I borrow a carriage?

Anthony: Of course brother… wait, why are you smirking? Don’t you dare defile her in my carriage.

Colin: Are you implying that I would to entice the love of my life into a carriage ride and proceed to pour my heart out to her in hopes of seducing her into marrying me? I would not dream of it.

Anthony: Why don’t I believe you?

Colin: Because I intend to do precisely that if need be.

Anthony: Must it be in my carriage though, Simon has a lovely carriage, borrow his.

Colin: I’m afraid I must go, time is of the essence and I must work quickly. I have to to win her and desperate times call for desperate measures. I believe I shall get her some flowers first… something yellow perhaps. For old times sake. Thank you for the talk brother. Wish me luck!

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

Two Can Play at this Game

@snailsandpuppy-dogtails @dungeons-are-too-cold @penelopeminded this one is for you my homies

Summary: At a family dinner, Penelope is asked if she's seeing anyone. She says she is, and she starts going on this loving rant about him. Little does everyone else know, he's sitting right beside her, and Luke is having a hard time not blowing their cover.

Words: 1304

Rated: T for language and implied sexual content

Can also be read here on Ao3

After two weeks of practically back to back cases, the team decided that it was time for a family dinner. When Penelope left they had decided to make family dinners something they did as often as they could, their way of staying together when they were apart.

“So, Penelope,” Rossi said. “It’s been so long since we’ve actually gotten to talk to you. What’s going on in your life? How’s work? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Work is great,” she replied. And then, before she could talk herself out of it, she said, “And yes, I actually have been seeing someone for a few months now.”

Luke, who was sitting right next to her, choked on his drink. Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one, so it didn’t look suspicious.

“For months?” JJ repeated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Sorry, JJ,” Reid said. “You kept Will a secret for how long?”

“Point taken.”

“So what’s his name?” Tara asked.

“No.”

“No? That’s an interesting name,” Emily joked.

“Shut up. I mean, no, I’m not telling you his name. I don’t want you guys to track him down to the ends of the earth before we’ve decided if we want you guys to meet him.” Plus, she wanted to drive Luke crazy, but she couldn’t very well tell them that, now could she?

“Quite understandable,” Rossi told her. She knew he would understand, considering he had kept Krystall a secret from them almost until he proposed.

“Well can you at least tell us about him?” Matt asked. “No name, no identifying information, just general stuff? You can’t say, oh yeah I’m dating someone and then give us nothing!”

She considered this for a moment. “Alright, sure. Let me just think over what I’m going to say so I don’t accidentally give some identifying information to you pesky profilers.”

Luke had no idea how he was going to survive what was to come.

“Well, I mean first of all, he’s gorgeous, like, absolutely the most beautiful man I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” Luke quipped in an attempt to seem neutral.

“Oh please, he knows where he stands.”

There was a hidden message in there just for him, and he had to fight back his smile.

“Anyways,” she continued. “He’s really good with animals, he loves Sergio, they’re cuddle buddies.”

“I like this new man of yours already,” Emily said, taking a sip of her wine.

Well that’s a relief, Luke thought.

“And he’s so kind. Just… the sweetest, very romantic. He took me to a restaurant that had slow dancing for our first date.”

Luke had to take a sip of his drink to hide his smile of pride.

A soft smile spread on Penelope’s face. “He’s just… so completely great.”

“Oh my god,” JJ said. “You’re in love with him.”

“What?” Penelope squeaked. “In love? Why would you say that?”

Luke couldn’t help himself. “That, Penelope, is called a non-denial denial.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “Watch yourself, Newbie.”

“Can you even call me that anymore? We haven’t worked together in months.” I mean and we’ve been dating since then and you’ve just kind of admitted you’re in love with me, but I’m not going to say that right now.

“JJ’s right, though,” Reid said. “When you were talking about him your pupils dilated and you got this smile on your face. You’re in love with him.”

Penelope’s blush was fierce. That was absolutely not how she planned on telling Luke she loved him for the first time. “Fine, yes, I’m in love with him, next question?”

“Have you told him yet?” JJ asked.

“No. I mean, it’s still kind of new, and I don’t know if he feels the same way… I don’t want to scare him off, you know?”

That broke Luke’s heart a bit, both the fact that she thought he’d leave her for telling him she loved him and that she had no idea how completely in love with her he was.

“Have you kissed him?” Emily asked in an attempt to make the topic lighter again.

“Yes.”

“Was it good?”

“The best.”

Luke had to take multiple deep breaths to keep himself from turning around and making out with her in front of the entire team.

Tara got a cheeky grin on her face. “Have you slept with him yet?”

Luke wanted to die, but fortunately, Rossi came to the rescue. “Ah ah ah, that is a conversation for girls’ night, not my dinner table.”

Tara cackled, and Luke and Penelope were doing their absolute best to not look at each other.

“Well,” Emily said. “Anyone else have a secret relationship they want to tell us about?”

Well, two can play at this game. “Yeah, actually.”

Everyone stared at Luke. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ve been seeing her for a few months now, and I haven’t said anything because no one in this group can keep their mouths shut, goddamn.”

"If you're talking about me, Luke Alvez, that's very rude," Penelope told him.

Actually, you're the one person I'm not talking about. "No, no, I'm not talking about everyone. I didn't want them to try to profile or weasel it out of me because once I start talking about her, I can't stop and I know I'd let it slip."

"Well then tell us about her," Reid said. "Since you can't stop."

"Gladly. She's the most amazing and kind-hearted person I have ever met in my entire life. She is Jesus Christ you are miles and miles out of my league, how the fuck did I end up with you, gorgeous, inside and out. She loves Roxy, and I think Roxy likes her more than me. When she smiles she gets this sparkle in her eyes that doesn't go away for hours and it's my favorite thing in the world. And she's funny, always making me laugh, and like, ridiculously smart."

"What the hell is she doing with you, then?" Tara teased.

"I have no idea, but I'm never letting her go. I am so fucking in love with her it's not even funny. Like, completely gone."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Penelope trying not to react. "And she loves you?" It was like an echo of one of their first conversations. He was talking about Roxy, she thought he was talking about his girlfriend. This time, however, there was a double meaning. The rest of the team heard and she loves you? A teasing question, typical of their usual banter. He heard and she loves you. A declaration. A promise.

"Yeah, she does."

"Tell her to call me when she comes to her senses."

He laughed. "Yeah, I will. You'd love her, I think. She's always giving me crap. Sometimes I think she's only dating me for Roxy and my culinary skills."

Matt scoffed at that. "What culinary skills?" 

"I make a mean lasagna."

"It's true, he does," Penelope agreed. "Vegetarian, too."

Everyone, including Luke, turned to stare at her with wide eyes. While their expressions were varying levels of shock, his was sheer amusement. Had they really just done that whole song and dance for her to go and say that?

She looked back at them, blinking in confusion. "What?"

JJ smiled a bit, trying to hold in her laughter. "When did he make you vegetarian lasagna?"

Penelope's eyes went wide as she realized what she said, and wider still at the (correct) implications. "Oh. Um. I." She turned to Luke. "I can't explain my way out of this, can I?"

He smiled affectionately at her and took her hand in this. "No, Love, I don't think you can."

She blushed at the nickname and turned back towards the group. "So, his name is Luke…"

[lightstar789]

Stars and Smoke by Marie Lu: Review

Okay, the review y'all have been waiting for is finally here, and I'm ready to deliver! Obvious spoilers ahead, by the way.

MY OVERALL RATING: 3/5

My rating will be further broken down in the next couple of sections but let me just say...I kind of expected more from her, in terms of the whole spy concept and enemies-to-lovers romance, which are the main selling points of the novel, hence why my rating is lower than usual books by her. Additionally, there were just a couple things that irked me about this book that I can't ignore. Looking past all of that however, it is still an enjoyable read, and as a sucker for good action scenes and characters, she delivered!

THE GOOD:

THE ACTION:

Okay, can I just tell you how much I love authors that utilize their characters' normally unassuming abilities to make them extremely efficient in combat?? I LOVE how Winter's performance abilities (dancing, stage persona, choreography) always come in clutch whenever he's in a tight position. Though he's not naturally inclined to the spy life, he's still able to use his wits to think of a plan on the spot, like how he lied to Penelope about the location of her hairpin, and then broke out of his bonds using the private concert as reference. I also love how Sydney fights smarter, not harder, and always finds a way to make it out of every fight due to her lung condition. I've always admired characters that use their wits above all, despite being physically lacking in some aspects compared to their opponents, so all of that was *chef's kiss.*

THE CHARACTERS:

I could talk for hours and hours on end about how much each one of Marie Lu's characters have a chokehold on me, and this book is no different. I absolutely loved the roster of Panacea agents, and Winter's crew. I feel like this book did a better job at addressing all the side characters meaningfully than Skyhunter did (though let's be real, nothing will ever beat Warcross and TYE). I also liked how almost the entirety of the Morrison crew, sans Penelope, Leo, Eli and Connor are queer! Quite refreshing if you ask me!

Winter Young: The ML of the book. Going into the book, I initially thought he was gonna be a Day 2.0 but more full of himself. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised! For the most part he is more melancholy and raw than teasing. Part of what makes him such a compelling character is the fact that he constantly yearns for love and admiration in any form, because he'd been denied that for so long. His older brother Artie had been his last source of love before he died, before it all went up in flames for his family, with the amount of abuse and neglect he and his mother had to endure because of his dad. Because of this, Winter desperately tries to find ways that he can make a positive impact on the world other than his music and signing, and I find that a lot better than what I had initially expected!

Sydney Cossette: The FL of the book. There is a lot to talk about regarding her but it might not be as much as Winter considering her arc isn't exactly finished yet. While unfortunately she does fall victim to several annoying YA tropes at first, luckily, she grows out of them as the book progresses. She's described as someone who's constantly on the run from her issues in order for them not to interfere with her spy work, which she seems to take very seriously. Her lung condition is a painful reminder of her late mother, and the realization that she will always be hindered by it, especially when her job is so demanding. She is also kleptomaniac to gain control over something in her life, and is trying to beat back these instincts in order to remain an agent of Panacea. Sydney is logical and secretive, but secretly longs for love, just like Winter does, wanting to wear her heart on her sleeve outside of her career.

Now these two yearning for love and a genuine connection should make them palatable love interests, and the enemies-to-lovers certainly makes this couple compelling. Right? RIGHT???

Yeah, no. Which brings me to...

THE BAD & THE UGLY:

Suffice to say that there's nothing ugly about this book, but more so bad. These aspects here are the reason why I deducted two stars from the overall rating of this book.

THE ROMANCE:

Hoo boy. I went on about this for two hours with a couple others in the Skyhunter discord server last night. Lately, I've been noticing a downwards trend in the quality of Marie Lu's romances, and it's hard to believe that the same person who gave us Dune, Magelina, and Romaine (Emika deserves better than Hideo tbh, but they were cute) gave us Wydney and Redlin.

Oh yeah, by the way, during the Steelstriker review regarding the romance aspect of Redlin aspects of the book, I was fucking lying. All of my mutuals at the time LOVED Redlin and I didn't want to disappoint them by saying I found the romance aspect off. I might make a retrospective review of the Skyhunter duology soon, but only time will tell. For now...

PLEASE MAKE YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS PLATONIC FOR ONCE!! I'M BEGGING YOU!!

Winter and Sydney were just finally beginning to understand each other when I got hit with that ATROCIOUS make-out scene in Chapter 24. I'm not sure if its because of my inner aro-ace or the fact that she was FUCKING POISONED and THAT WAS THE LAST THING THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN DOING. Like?? Why make Wydney smush lips when they could've left it at the simple kiss it once began as??

Not only that, but I could tell the seeds for their mutual attraction were placed and that Lu tried so hard to make them a cute romance, but it just didn't work?? I know their story is nowhere near over in any means but I find it kind of weird that they're gonna make-out when they've only just begun to like each other.

Okay, rant over.

I love how Dameon and Winter are still amicable with each other, despite having broken up. It's honestly refreshing to see a couple that has parted ways, but are still close friends with each other, which doesn't happen very often (*VIOLENT ROMAINE FLASHBACKS*), so props to Marie Lu for this!

PLOT HOLE:

In hindsight, while I praised the worldbuilding of the Skyhunter duology, there were...so many plot holes retrospectively??? Thankfully there weren't as many plot holes this time, due to the modern setting but...

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO AVOIDING THE LISTENING BUGS???

Okay I get that by the time of the check-in from Panacea, the poisoning and subsequent make-out scene in the middle of the hall, Eli Morrison was dead, but did they forget that Connor (and Penelope, as we later find out) were still listening to them?? Did they forget that they were undercover?? I'm honestly surprised none of this was addressed later, or this wasn't used against them, which is why I'm counting it as a plot hole.

THE PROSE:

Okay, I get that this is supposed to be a campy, light, novel, and honestly, I kinda needed that sort of thing after Skyhunter but did that give it the excuse to be written like a Wattpad fanfic?? Methinks not. Also, Marie Lu tends to forget the definition of subtlety a bit and hammer down the same adjectives with the same character so you always associate that character. I noticed it VERY prominently in Skyhunter with Jeran and here, with Dameon and it needs to stop for the sake of my mental health.

THE MOOD:

While this was meant to be written as a campy novel, certain aspects of the book like the SOUL CRUSHING ANGST :( made me want to take this book seriously...which is a recipe for a good whiplash when you're reading Chapter 7 and then get to the bickering and tension in Chapter 8. This isn't bad or ugly per se, just didn't know where to put it.

T - T

Okay, wow, that was a lot more writing than I was expecting, but what can you expect? It's me we're talking about! Anyway, I'd love to see what you guys think of the book, so please, reblog or reply to this post with your thoughts. See ya!

[alltid-og-for-evig]

Who would you say are your favorite and least favorite characters from each tvdu show and why?

Favorite:

Katherine, Bonnie, and Damon probably take the top spot in tvd. They kind of rotate in my brain. Each of them are such strong personalities, and each of them have an edge, I think is what I like. Also they're all pretty damn smart and I like me an intelligent character.

Klaus 100% is my favorite Originals character (though the Originals is hard because I love all of these characters so much). I like his journey, I like how his paranoia is reinforced, how he's a self-fulfilling prophecy, and how he had such potential for a really good redemption arc. He's smart, he's evil, he's ruthless, he's ultimately so good inside - he's everything I love in a character.

Legacies is gonna be a bit weird, but Kaleb motherfucking Hawkins. Of course, I have a list of top five that I love dearly, but Kaleb has always been my favorite. Idk what it is about him, exactly, because he was my fave back in season one. It might be because he reminds me of my other faves in this world. I like his s1 rebel stance (even if he goes too far and proclaims supernaturals are superior), he brings up good points about how the vampires are treated. Then, going forward, I like that he's the Devils advocate a lot of the time. So many of the Legacies characters are overly hopeful, to the point they sometimes won't accept the possibility of other things, but Kaleb is always there to say "hey, maybe things won't go our way - what then?" But he's also extremely loyal and selfless and good.

Least favorite:

This changes from rewatch to rewatch, as sometimes I'll think about something and change my mind, or I'll see a really good argument and watch differently, and I'm guessing you mean least favorite out of recurring or main characters, so-

Least favorite tvd at this point for me is Matt. It used to be Jeremy & Tyler, but both of them have redeemed themselves in my eyes. Matt however, is a useless lamp of a character who just exists to have the worst life ever, which would be funny if it weren't so annoying. I don't care that he's the "last human standing" or whatever, he does like 5 helpful things in 8 seasons, then becomes an angry cop. He basically turns on all his friends - valid or not, that turned me against him. You could replace him with a lamp and it would change nothing significant about the show.

I'd probably have to say Jackson is my least favorite Originals character, not because I don't like him, but because I forget he exists. Unless they're written to be hated, I generally like everyone in this show, and while I like some things that Jackson does, he just gets lost in the background of far more interesting characters.

Legacies is just as hard as tO, especially since I only dislike people who aren't really there? I would have said Ethan a few months ago, but my mind has been changed on him. So I guess now its Penelope and the Necromancer? Pen because we get so little info about her and what happened with Josie that it feels like Pen never talked to Jo about how she was feeling neglected in the relationship, broke up with her (broke her heart), and then proceeded to massively bully Lizzie. If she'd stuck around I probably would have liked her because she would have gotten character development, but she's stuck as her s1 self because that's all we got for her. Then, Necromancer - really just because he was not as good as the writers seemed to think. He was fun for a second, then quickly became annoying, and they just kept bringing him back 🙄. And, now that I think about it, throw Alaric in there as well. I liked him in tvd, but Legacies ruined his character. He was awful to Hope and he was awful as a headmaster.

💙

[bellascarousel]

i know why you all are so against polin and its because you cant stand a midsize girl getting the happy ending. You always praise simone beauty and model body but she is an empty package, she is a bad person, with family, fans, friends coworkers and everyone really excepto her YT boyfriend and his rich white skinny friends. She spread unhealthy stereotypes for woman and thats okey for you all fatphobics

Honey, I DNF'ed Polin's book because it was boring. My favorite characters in their book were Felicity and Hyacinth. Felicity doesn't exist, and Hyacinth can't have the same role she had in the book because of them moving the time-frame way up. I actually shipped Polin more than Saphne during season 1, and was really excited to find out they were canon in the books. Then I tried to read their book and... just couldn't bring myself to care about them. There were just no real stakes. (A problem that admittedly WOULD be solved on the show by the fact that the Queen wants Lady Whistledown - except they probably won't actully unmask her to the ton this season because of not wanting to lose that narrative device.) Plus, Colin is one of those characters that I love in every other book, but kind of hated in his own. I do not care about the characters. Full fucking stop.

I love Simone because she is an amazing actress who did an incredible job of bringing my favorite Bridgerton character to life despite how little the writers gave her to work with. Kate is such a compelling character to me. And after the way Simone acted her fucking heart out with her, yeah. I'm excited to see what else she can do.

As for her looks, and the "unhealthy stereotype" she spreads... how DARE she be comfortable in her own skin? Only bigger women are allowed that, right? She's not unhealthily skinny for her frame size. What do you want her to do? Overeat to get pudgy because you think her natural body shape and size is somehow wrong?

Nicola is also obviously very comfortable in her body, and as someone who is NOT, I love that for her. I envy Nicola's confidence far more than I envy Simone's body. Because confidence is attainable, I will never look like Simone because I don't have her bone structure. But, hey! Maybe you ARE jealous of her and that's your real problem.

TL/DR I loved Kate and Kathony before Simone was ever cast. And I loved Polin until I tried to read their book (and until Penelope got two subplots in season 2 and her family took up so much screen time that would have been better served by fleshing out the Sharma family and giving THEM a proper subplot). It has nothing to do with the actresses.

[transalfredpennyworth]

🎵!!

(sorry for making you put things into words lmao but it did make perfect sense and i loved reading abt em!!)

(the words were being particularly uncooperative earlier but such is life)

songs i associate with my ocs lets go

enigma to k

you try to act as if you're saving me but you wouldn't cut the rope if it was hanging me dancing with the devil - set it off

enigma

i think my fate is losing its patience i think the ground is pulling me down i think my life is losing momentum i think my ways are wearing me down but if i gave up on being pretty i wouldn't know how to be alive i should myself to a brand new city and teach myself how to die honey, what'd you take? what'd you take?

brand new city - mitski

enigma

and you think you got the cure to being bitter? but the pill tastes just as bad as the real thing so i hope you don't expect me to get better you don't think that i intend to help myself, do you?

do you? - woe.begone

enigma

if i am a wound i'm not the type to ever heal i have found the worst will drag us down but the best won't dig us up like we deserve and i have found that if you're gonna drown it's best to hold your breath starting now

givennen / hallowed - woe.begone

engima

of course it hurt, of course it fuckin' hurt it hurt like nothing in the world sometimes that i was super scared, and we were all a train-wreck and also somehow making it i think i might've died there twice, and i would do it all again

feel better - penelope scott

k

i can feel my heart breaking mistakes i've been making i'm running out of patience to pretend this isn't how i'll let it end my feigning fading

this is what happens when you leave it to somebody else if you want it done right you should just do it yourself you oversaturate your world with nothing but machines you might make everyone happy, but you're dead inside just like me and now we're here at a standstill i wonder if you feel the kind of pain that rips your insides out? that's something i know all about shocking, ain't it? we have a lot more in common than you would be calm with it's like we're the same person, me and you we both don't know what we can do

i can't fix you - the living tombstone

k

sometimes i wish i could take a new form switch out some parts and become like the norm

sometimes i wish i could lend you my voice lend you my heart and lend you my choice sometimes i hope for a savior to come who's got what it takes to convince everyone

sometimes i wish i could lend you my shoes lend you my life and lend you my truth but sometimes the truth is just my point of view not what is real and not what is true

lucky is she who lives unaware who doesn't get bothered by those who don't care lucky is she who lives unaware who doesn't get bothered by all that's unfair

unlucky me who knows way too much who fights to make changes and music and such unlucky me, aware of the pain all 'cause i happen to have some brain lucky is she who lives unaware

blow my brains out - tikkle me

k

secrets don't make enemies, but they don't make you friends can't watch myself break and bleed another second

pin cushion - siiickbrain

k

i'm only happy when i'm on the run i break a million hearts just for fun i don't belong to anyone i guess you could say that my life's a mess but i'm still looking pretty in this dress i'm the image of deception

when everything is life and death you may feel like there's nothing left instead of love and trust and laughter what you get is happy never after but deep down all you want is love the pure kind we all dream of but we cannot escape the past so you and i will never last

homewrecker - marina

k

“i do not wish the death of any living thing i might be a killer but one day i shall be queen and put an end to slaughter, but until then i’m keen on staking clam to land and sea and everyfin between”

i played a game with eleven fools who told me not to break the rules but when have angels ever helped me yet? and magic isn’t real and anyway it doesn’t matter 'cause no matter what i conjure it could not help me deflect the angry death of every hopeful thought that i might be a lover or a fighter that i’m not in someone's spider web, or net i could be caught but i’m too bitter, better off alone, guess i forgot

so what do you want me to say? sorry? should i apologize when you ignore me? i didn’t ask to be right or to be lonely or to be hatched into an ugly story

and now i think my calling is to break apart and fall to pieces better yet, invent a brand new method of ascension

i’m impressed, you’ve managed to survive but rest assured we’d all be better off dead than alive 'cause when they get a hold of us, we’ll all be batter-fried and i’m surprised that nobody’s considered switching sides

so here i am, respectfully and royally destroying any chance of getting back on your good gills and i don’t mean to be hurtful, but if yellow's the new purple well, then bleeding’s the new breathing, don’t you think i will

that i am just pathetic, i won’t be overlooked i’m past the point of fishing to get back upon your hook i’ve made a manifesto, i’ve been bested by a crook, but never more i’m planning on reclaiming what he took

ugly story // phemiec

[reidscanehand]

The Very Essence of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem! Reader

Category: Angsty Fluff

TW: cursing, deep-rooted insecurity from both Spencer and Reader, mentions of anthrax, Reid’s knee getting shot, and Haley’s death

This was originally going to be part of a three story/10 episode series that fell through because I wasn’t happy with it. This story is fully intact and the others aren’t, but this was by far my favorite. Just as a warning, this jumps around a fair bit in time, jumping from episode to episode, so if it feels inconsistent in that regard I’m sorry. It takes place from around the beginning of season 4 to the middle-ish part of season 5 (specifically the episodes: “Normal”, “Amplification”, “Nameless, Faceless”, “100″, and “The Slave of Duty”). I hope you like it! xx 

~ “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.” - Jane Austen ~

It isn’t that Spencer dislikes her. Alright, he doesn’t exactly like her. But, he doesn’t dislike her. A fact that vexes him greatly. Maybe it’s that, truly. She vexes him. And he wishes he could put his thumb on just what exactly it is that keeps him from disliking her. Spencer Reid is not in the habit of disliking his co-workers. He knows he’s greatly vexed by how easily she got along with everyone when she started. Friendships with his teammates that felt as though they’d taken years in the making took her what seemed like mere minutes. What was more annoying about that was that he had to admit that she is incredibly charming. She’s witty, funny, kind-hearted, and a good conversationalist. Most of their conversations end up being arguments, but they’re kind of...fun arguments. He knows it’s not exactly healthy to enjoy arguing with someone, but it’s rare to come upon a debate partner with whom it’s so exciting to quibble. He also knows that he’s entirely at fault for the tone of their conversations.

However, Derek could also claim substantial blame for his and Y/N’s...friendship or lack thereof. It was partially his fault, at the very least, for getting Spencer to say what he’d said about her that made her (rather rightfully) hate him so very much. And it wasn’t Y/N’s fault at all. Because she just so happens to be one of the most beautiful women Spencer has ever seen and he couldn’t get over that if he tried (and he’s tried). But, the day Y/N joined the team had been a...flustered day for Spencer. Because he couldn’t really stop staring at her. And, as he isn’t a particularly subtle creature, Derek (and everyone else on the team) had noticed. And he’d teased Spencer, as is his wont to do. And Spencer had fought back, as is his wont to do. 

"Ooooh,” Derek teased quietly as Y/N followed Penelope to her desk, “you like her.”

“What? No I don’t!” Spencer knew he was being far too defensive, far too quickly, but the truth was that he did find Y/N extremely attractive and, if everything Hotch and Penelope told them about her was true, she was absolutely brilliant, which made her a thousand times more attractive to him. 

“Oh, yes you do,” teased Derek. “Pretty Boy already in love with the Pretty Girl, I see how it is.” 

Spencer could feel his ears turning red, eyes darting to where Y/N was setting up her new desk, praying that she couldn’t hear what Derek was saying. 

“You see nothing,” he whispered through gritted teeth. “She’s not even that pretty.” 

“Hey now, Pretty Boy, don’t worry,” Derek continued to mock him, “she’s not gonna take your title.”

“That’s not something I’m worried about and you know it,” Spencer spat, his heart pounding as his embarrassment grew. “I’m more annoyed that we’ll have to waste time bringing someone new up to scruff with the rest of the team.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shot to his forehead then, “Damn, okay, Pretty Boy, I see how it’s gonna be.” 

Spencer had been a bit ashamed that he’d allowed Derek to fluster and provoke him enough to say something so stupid and completely untrue, but he didn’t think about it until one of Y/N’s first cases. There was a man being called “The Road Warrior” while shooting people down on the open road in Orange County, California. There was something about the geoprofile that wasn’t making sense as they couldn’t find him. 

“I think I’ve figured out what’s wrong with the geoprofile,” Y/N announced walking into the station. 

“What is it?” Spencer asked. She pointedly ignored his direct question, walking past him to the evidence board, turning to Hotch to speak. 

“The type of lifestyle we profiled for this unsub,” she began, circling what the team believed to be where the unsub would live, “doesn’t suit this location at all.” 

“What do you mean?” Hotch asked, watching the new agent carefully. 

“Detective Salinas and I just covered that entire area and the only type of housing,” she continued, “is luxury apartment and condo living. Also, it doesn’t at all fit the financial bracket for our unsub.”

“We profiled that he’s got a good job-” 

Her eyes snapped to Spencer’s as he attempted to interrupt her, “Not this type of good job. Unless he’s a secret millionaire, there’s no way he’s affording these luxury apartments, especially if he’s a family man. I think this,” she circled the area again, “is where his job is located.” 

“He’d have to be a family man if the women he’s killing are surrogates,” Hotch agreed. “Nice work, Agent, I’ll call the others. Make sure Detective Salinas knows this new angle.”

“Yes, sir,” she’d smiled. The moment Hotch left, her smile dropped and she met Spencer’s eyes once again, just as icily as before, “Was that up to scruff, Doctor?”

Shit. She’d heard him and Derek talking. What the fuck have I done? Spencer’s mind began to race, he opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say anything, but she’d already turned on her heel to leave. 

Things have only escalated since then. She fought him at every turn and he did the same. Hotch stopped having them work together unless it was absolutely necessary - as it often is, since, when they work together, they work brilliantly, the team knew not to allow them to get too close to one another. Spencer stopped trying to apologize long ago. He should dislike her, hate her, even, for not giving him the chance to explain himself, for fighting him over every little thing, for giving him little to be annoyed with since she’s so good at her job.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe he dislikes her because he can’t truly dislike her, ever. 

~~~

Spencer’s been through a lot since he joined the BAU. Torture, drug addiction, he’s been beaten up by his own boss, caught on fire...but contracting a highly deadly form of Anthrax will have to go on the list as one of the worst things ever. One second he’d been completely fine, if not somewhat panicked that he’d been exposed to the deadly strain. He’d continued working as it became harder to breathe, as his thoughts became muddled, and he became so warm he couldn’t think anymore, but then cold, so cold he thought he’d never recover, terrified as his brain continuing to work as his body shut down. He’d slipped into listlessness, only to now awaken to the bright white lights of the hospital. Derek is on one side of the bed, eating a cup of Jello.

“Is there anymore Jello?” he asks, his voice thin and wispy. 

“Hey,” Y/N’s voice says and Spencer snaps his head to look at her so quickly that she whispers, “not so fast.” 

He stares at her in astonishment for a moment, not quite willing to recognize the slight tenderness in her voice, before turning back to look at Derek. 

“There he is,” Derek chuckles, “Pretty Boy.”

“What happened?” Spencer asks, his eyes darting between Derek and Y/N, still in disbelief that she’s here at all. 

“You’re gonna be alright, kid,” Derek says, “it’s over and we got Brown.” 

Y/N nods, clearly uncomfortable, and finally says, “I’ll go get the nurse.” 

Spencer watches Y/N get up from her seat on the other side of his bed and waits until he can’t see her anymore before he turns back to Derek. 

“When did she get here?” Spencer asks, slightly annoyed that Y/N saw him like this for reasons he’d prefer not to dwell on. 

“That’s the first time she’s left your side in 24 hours, Pretty Boy,” Derek teases. 

“What?” Spencer asks, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“She met you and Dr. Kimura at the entrance to the hospital,” Derek explains, “she stayed here while the rest of us chased down the unsub.” 

“That’s...that’s unexpected,” Spencer replies, unsure of what to say to this news. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” says Dr. Kimura, entering the room. 

“Is Abby okay?” Spencer asks as he remembers the victim he and Dr. Kimura interviewed the day before.

“She’s fine,” Dr. Kimura assures him, “so are the 3 others. You were right about where to look for the cure to this strain.” 

They talk a bit more about the case, then Derek excuses himself as the nurse comes in to check Spencer’s vitals. 

He’s being put into a blood pressure cuff when Dr. Kimura says, “Your girlfriend is really lovely.”

“My girlfriend?” Spencer chokes out. 

“Agent Y/L/N? She was absolutely terrified for you and rightly so. The second she was allowed in here, she wouldn’t leave your side. I thought she was going to have a heart attack when she met us at the door-”

“Um,” Spencer interrupts her awkwardly, “Y/N is not my girlfriend. As a matter of fact, she can barely stand me.”

“Oh,” Dr. Kimura’s eyes go wide, “are you sure?”

“Yes, why?” Spencer asks. 

“That’s really surprising,” she says, her brows furrowed together. 

“What makes you say that?” Spencer looks up at her, a little concerned that the tone of this conversation will raise his blood pressure. 

“I was just...I was just so sure,” she comments, almost to herself. “I...I see a lot of relationships in this line of work, be it families or lovers or...anything, really. Seeing people in insane states of grief or happiness or....lots of different things. And...Y/L/N would not leave your side. Do you know how rare that is? Truly? I mean, you see it in movies or cheap romance novels all the time, but in real life? She read to you, she waited for reports on your vitals and...”

Dr. Kimura drifts off and Spencer shakes his head in disbelief, “I assure you, Dr. Kimura, Y/N and I are...frenemies at best.”

Dr. Kimura stares at him as the poor nurse having to listen to this bizarre conversation finishes running his vitals and leaves the room. 

“She’s a hell of a frenemy to have, Dr. Reid,” she chuckles before leaving. And, as though Dr. Kimura called her out of thin air, Y/N appears at the door to his room. 

“Do you need anything?” she asks quietly, not quite smiling, but not glaring at him as usual. 

He wants to tease her about her apparent care for him. He wants to act like she’s annoying him so he can avoid thinking about her. But he can’t, because it’s as though Spencer’s seeing her for the first time. The florescence doesn’t clash with her skintone as it does with most people, but almost makes her glow. Have her eyes always been this gorgeous? He can’t do anything but wish to get lost in them for hours and hours and hours. 

“No,” he finally manages to rasp, “no, thank you.”

~~~

No one is shocked that Hotch hasn’t given up working on The Reaper case. With George Foyet out of prison almost as soon as the team got him there, it’s a little shocking Hotch is the only one of them still looking into the case. However, everyone is shocked when he calls them all into the conference room to inform them that there was a Foyet sighting relatively nearby and they need to be on high alert. Stay home unless they’re in the office, text each other to make sure everyone’s safe - the usual checkpoints to make sure everything’s alright. 

There’s something pooling in Spencer’s stomach - a feeling of dread. He doesn’t believe in premonitions, not really, anyway, but this feeling usually happened when a case started to go south. However, the feeling only worsens when he accidentally eavesdrops on the conversation happening in Penelope’s office. He’s almost out the door, all his work completed for the day, but he’s stopped dead in his tracks when he hears

“Oh, but you can’t cancel on him, Y/N!” Penelope’s voice is almost whiny. 

Y/N laughs and then says, “No date is worth defying Hotch’s orders-” 

“She’s right,” Emily’s voice reasons, “plus we all know who she’d really like to go out with anyway-”

“Okay,” Y/N cuts Emily off, “none of that. We both know that’s never going to come to anything.”

Spencer ignores the bile that’s rising at the bottom of his throat at the news that Y/N is interested in someone. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her since his recovery from Anthrax, but he’s determined to quell any emotions about it. He thinks about her, sure, but that doesn’t mean he cares about her. 

“Please go on this date, Y/N,” Penelope’s voice begs. “It was so hard to get yours and Renaldo’s schedules to work together!”

“Renaldo?” Y/N’s voice chuckles around the name. “You didn’t tell me that was his name.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Penelope asks. “He’s nice.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s very nice, Pen,” Y/N assures her, “it just sounds like I’m going on a date with one of James Bond’s associates.” 

Emily laughs and Spencer has to cover his mouth to quell his laughter at that. However, the laughter isn’t hard to quell when Y/N says, “Pen, I will consider not cancelling. Does that make you feel better?”

Spencer storms out of the bureau building then. He’s so angry, so furious that Y/N would disregard Hotch’s orders for a date. Never mind the feelings conflicting in his head and twisting his stomach beyond reason over the fact that Y/N is going on a date. He’s furious, he’s upset, he’s...he’s....he doesn’t even know what he is. 

It takes him all of three hours of pacing about his apartment before he heads off to Y/N’s apartment. He’s vaguely aware (incredibly aware) of where it is after a glance at her file when she joined the BAU. He’s almost there before it even occurs that he just walked two miles. He’s angry, though. His heart is absolutely pounding. He flashes his badge at the front desk and they let him up, but he feels like he’s in a dream. It’s rare that he’s fueled by only emotion. 

“Dr. Reid?” Y/N cries when she opens her door. 

“I can’t believe you,” Spencer says, walking into her apartment. 

“Yes, please do come in,” she sighs as he pushes past her and into her apartment. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

“I don’t need anything,” he replies, “I just need you to explain to me why you are so much better than the rest of us that you get to go against Hotch’s orders to go on a date-”

“How the fuck do you know about that?” Y/N asks.

“I heard you and Penelope talking about it and-”

“You were eavesdropping?” Y/N’s voice is getting louder and he wonders why only to realize far too late that it’s because his voice is getting much, much louder. 

“I didn’t mean to, but then I was appalled! Thank God, I listened! What if Foyet found you at some terrible bar with Renaldo and murdered you? Someone should know where you are! Some FBI agent you are!” Spencer is screaming. He never screams, but he can’t help himself. He’s so furious, so beyond any anger he’s ever had before that he’s practically steaming. He starts to ramble off words, barely aware of them, just wanting to make her feel as bad as he does, “You know, I don’t think you’re a particularly good agent, but I thought you would at least have the decency to put the team ahead of your own selfishness. I knew you were fickle, but I never thought that you’d be so decisively insubordinate as to-”

“I cancelled on him,” Y/N interrupts, the quiet of her voice far more terrifying than Spencer’s anger. 

“You what?” Spencer swallows, his voice still far too loud. 

“I cancelled the date,” she reiterates. There is an absolutely horrifying silence. 

“I didn’t...I meant that-”

“You know,” Y/N interjects into his rambling, her voice still quiet. “I’m not sure why you bothered coming by at all, really. I guess it’s part of that godforsaken overly formal bullshit you carry around with you like a fucking armor, but we both know that you don’t care about me at all.”

“Wh-what makes you-”

“Oh, come on, Dr. Reid,” she continues, her eye contact not breaking from him once. “We both know that you’ve disliked me since the day I joined the team.”

“That’s not-”

“I know you don’t like me, but at least have the decency not to lie to my face,” Y/N practically spits. She crosses closer to him, “What gives you the right to come over to my home and tell me that I’m a bad agent, that I’m selfish, that I don’t care when you have done nothing but belittle me since the day I arrived?”

“I don’t- I’m...I just had this feeling-”

“Feelings!” Y/N is almost in his face now. “You want to talk about feelings? Okay, then, why don’t we talk about the fact that I worked my ass off just as hard as you did to get on this team and you waste some of your brilliant headspace every moment of every day to knock me down when I worked so hard just to barely stand up? Why are you so determined to hate me? What on earth did I do that-”

“I love you,” Spencer blurts. There is another silence, somehow more horrifying than the last, but Spencer’s anxieties won’t let him stay silent. He starts speaking with no plan in mind. “I’m in love with you and I have been since the moment I saw you. And I’m-I’m terrified every second of every day because you’re strong-willed and extremely reckless. You never think anything through, you act without-”

“Is this your idea of romance?” Y/N asks, her voice heavy. He looks down into her eyes and sees tears forming. “You think that you can belittle and humiliate me constantly and that’s what love is? You think that you can tell me you love me accompanied by even more insults and I’ll, what? Fall into your arms?”

“Y/N, I-”

“Get out,” she almost whispers. He looks down at her, her face so close to his that he could kiss her. 

But he turns and leaves instead. 

~~~

The arrival home is rougher than the exit just an hour before. He stalked home far slower than his anger-fueled speedwalk to Y/N’s. 

He’s never been so ashamed of himself. Not once in his whole life. He throws down his satchel and falls onto his couch, all numb limbs and heavy heart, tears wanting to fall, but him not allowing them to. He didn’t deserve such release. 

God, the things he’d said. He’d hurled insults at her for no reason at all. Well...not for nothing, he was worried about her, but he shouldn’t have insulted her ever.

But, Spencer is not an idiot. It was a terrible time to finally realize it, but he’s deeply in love with her, that he knows for certain. And that’s why he knows that he can’t leave this situation like this. He could call her, but she’d never answer. He could go back to her apartment, but she would never let him in. All of which he deserves, he’s sure, but he has to at least try. His eyes fall upon his desk as his mind simultaneously settles on writing a letter. He sits down at the desk and the words flow out of him, for the first time in ages knowing exactly what he wants to say: 

Dear Y/N, 

I’m sure this is akin to the rest of the awkward-overformality you referenced during our discussion, but, as an academic, I have always found it easier to communicate through words. Also, as a socially outcast teen and young adult, I found it simpler and often less awkward than my personal address. Let’s hope that applies here as well. I also wanted to take some time and not yell every little thing that came into my head as we argued; you deserve better than half-assed arguments made in the heat of the moment. This is all to assure you that you need not be alarmed when you receive this. I’m not going to try to win you over or seduce you, but I wanted to address some of the things that were said in our discussion. Please know that this is not an excuse for my behavior, but an explanation that is far overdue.

Firstly, and really most importantly: What I said about you on your first day was entirely uncalled for and I apologize. I was flustered and embarrassed by a co-worker and I let my feelings get the better of me, which is no excuse. You’re far beyond ‘up to scruff’. Despite the idiocy I spouted at you during our argument, I think you are an absolutely brilliant profiler and I mean that genuinely. You have an astonishing work ethic, you’re empathetic, quick, and (despite what I said) you think things through with a clarity that I doubt even Hotch possesses. As stupid and immature as this behavior makes me sound, I think I’ve belittled you (entirely unfairly) because I am so impressed by you. As irrational and inexcusable as this is: not feeling like the smartest person on the team is really hard for me. You are able to provide both brains and agility, and I am not. Rather than try to rise to your level, I attempted to bring you down to mine, which is entirely unacceptable and I’m so sorry.  

Now, this is the weird, but unfortunately necessary part: I am in love with you. And I know that you don’t feel the same way, which is fine and, in fact, after our discussion, rather understandable. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I remember recognizing that what I was feeling was love. It wasn’t like I looked at you one day and loved you, no, it was a feeling that followed me around whenever I saw you; whenever I heard your name. I didn’t know what it was until one day I did. You make my life better by being in it. 

I expect no response from you, but please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect and reverence for you and that my own pride has caused me to act like an absolute fool. 

Sincerely,

Doctor Spencer Reid

In the same semi-numb state of writing the letter, Spencer walks back to Y/N’s apartment the next morning. He hasn’t slept a wink and he feels as though he’s floating on air and carrying around more weight than he can manage. He stares at her apartment door for far longer than he should before finally gaining the courage to knock. After his knocks go unanswered, he knows that she’s at least seen him through her peephole.

“Y/N,” Spencer says, his forehead leaned against the door so that she can hear him. “I came to give you this.” He leans over and shoves half of the envelope under her door. “I’m not....I don’t deserve to give you an explanation, but you deserve far more than I have given you.” 

The letter disappears under the door and Spencer almost smiles. As he walks home the tears begin to pour and by the time he’s home, he’s able to - finally - cry himself to sleep. 

~~~ 

Spencer knows she’s read the letter, even if she doesn’t mention it. He also knows she hasn’t told anyone what happened because he’s very sure they’d kill him. Spencer and Y/N are civil, if not completely avoidant of each other. It’s awkward, for sure, but work keeps them both busy enough to divert from it for the most part. For the most part; Spencer still has sleepless nights dreaming of Y/N, worrying about her safety, longing to get lost in her eyes. 

When Hotch goes missing after the dreadful case in Canada and the team finds out that it’s Foyet, Spencer can almost feel his universe come to spiraling and terrifying halt. Though it wasn’t Y/N, it was still too close for comfort. Working another case while it’s all happening isn’t exactly helpful, and might be the reason he so recklessly jumps in front of the unsub’s gun, his knee getting absolutely shattered.

He’s in surgery for a long time, expecting to wake up in the most pain he’s ever been in. But that’s not the case, for, when he wakes up, Y/N is sitting in his hospital room, her face glowing as the sun begins to set through the large window. She notices he’s awake and meets his eyes, a soft but shy smile on her lips.

“You know,” Y/N teases, her voice quiet but full of humor, “it’d be really cool if, just on one case, I didn’t have to fear for your life.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly decided to start valuing my life,” he teases back, groaning in pain as he shifts in his bed. She stands and presses the button for a nurse before timidly returning to the seat next to his bed. 

“I’m sure you believe you have evidence to the contrary, but I’ve never not valued your life, Dr. Reid,” she replies quietly, not meeting his eyes. 

Despite the pain in his left knee, he can’t fight his smile at this, “Against the odds of this past year, I promise I’m not usually this accident prone-”

“Your record says otherwise, but I’ll take your word for it,” Y/N chuckles airily. A nurse enters to give him some painkillers, leaving them in a small plastic cup next to his bed with some water, she also tells him they’ll have to get him some crutches before he leaves, though he’ll have to stay for observation overnight. 

The nurse leaves and she stands as though to go, “Well, I’m sure you’ll want me out of your way-”

“Not to make things awkward,” Spencer interrupts, “but I think we both know that you’re never in my way and I always prefer it when you’re around.” 

She doesn’t immediately meet his gaze but freezes in her spot. Y/N finally looks at him. He can tell she’s trying to leave her gaze unreadable, trying to hide her emotions more, but the expressiveness of her eyes shines through. 

“Ah,” she finally manages to say, “yes. That.” She fiddles with her hands for a moment, smoothing her blazer over her dress trousers, before taking the seat once again, albeit with a far more rigid posture than before. Y/N’s posture matches the tension that settles in the air, dragging into an uncomfortable silence. 

Eventually, Spencer finds the strength to clear his throat and asks, “How’s Hotch?”

“Oh,” she replies, clearly startled by the turn in the conversation, “he’s, um, he’s okay. Awake. Alive.”

“But?” Spencer asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Surprisingly, a small smile toys at the corners of her lips, “How do you know there’s a ‘but’ to this?”

“Well,” Spencer shifts uncomfortably, “not to make things more awkward, even though we both know that’s my specialty, but I know you pretty well, Y/N.”

“Pain sure brings out the honesty in you, Dr. Reid,” she jokes quietly. 

“Something like that.” He murmurs it, but she hears it, eyes locking with the shared knowledge that he isn’t talking about his knee at all. “So, Hotch?”

“Oh, right, um, Hotch,” Y/N shifts in her chair. “He’s alive, but Foyet broke into his home and stabbed him...a lot, actually.”

“Why would Foyet leave Hotch alive?” 

“Psychological torture,” she answers quickly. “Um, Foyet took Haley’s contact page out of Hotch’s address book. Haley and Jack have to go into witsec.”

“Oh my God,” Spencer breathes. And sure, the news is shocking, but it’s her nearly teary expression that’s almost got him more concerned. 

“Yeah,” she grits out, trying not to cry, even as a rogue tear runs down her cheek. “It’s...we’re all going to have to tread lightly. Foyet’s practically taken everything from Hotch.” 

With more courage than he’s aware he has, Spencer reaches out and places a hand over hers, “Hotch is strong; he’ll get through this.”

“It’s hard,” she whispers, not moving her hand to Spencer’s surprise. “It’s hard to stay strong when you feel like your world is turned upside down. It’s hard to feel anything but broken.”

“Y/N,” Spencer sighs, grasping her hand and sitting up slightly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel-”

“You didn’t make me feel broken, Spencer,” she interrupts. “Your letter was...it just made me realize how terrible I’ve been to you-”

“How terrible you’ve been?” Spencer cuts her off, determinedly ignoring the excited flutter he gets from her finally calling him ‘Spencer’ instead of ‘Reid’ or ‘Dr. Reid’. “Y/N, if anything I’m the terrible one. What I said to you and how I’ve behaved is unforgivable and I am so, so sorry.”

Of all the things he expected to hear at this moment, her laughter is a welcome surprise, “I think it’s safe to say neither of us has been on our best behavior.” 

Spencer laughs too until they both have nearly laughed themselves to tears over the absurdity of it all. 

“This is a welcome improvement to what I expected to hear when I came back here,” JJ says, entering from the hallway. They wipe the tears from their eyes, dropping their still clasped hands. Spencer knows JJ clocked the holding hands but is relieved when she says nothing about it, instead asking him how he’s doing. 

“I’m fine,” he replies, “just a broken knee.”

“Broken in many ways from the sounds of things,” Y/N teases.  “Only Dr. Spencer Reid could play the hero and manage to break his knee this badly all in the same day.” She and JJ laugh, but Spencer can’t stop staring at Y/N because she’d called him a ‘hero’. And that means more to him than he’d ever admit. His smile is so wide it almost hurts, but he cannot stop staring at her. She excuses herself to go catch up with Emily, waving goodbye only somewhat awkwardly.

“What’s got you all smiley?” JJ asks, though Spencer knows she already knows the answer. He looks at her, his brain not willing to speak into existence what his heart is feeling. 

“Just the painkillers,” he replies, softly, still watching her exit down the hallway. If possible, his smile deepens when Y/N pauses in the hall, turning around and glancing back at him, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, just painkillers,” he repeats, fully aware of the unswallowed painkillers still in the cup next to his bed.

~~~

Being in love with someone so utterly kindhearted is a wonderful, yet painful thing. Haley’s death rocked the BAU to its core and none were more devastated for Hotch and Jack than Y/N.

Y/N and Spencer have fallen into an odd sort of friendship after his accident. She’d stayed behind on a case or two afterwards to help him and Penelope out and they’d just...become friends. And Spencer believes he’s truly never been happier. But he knows he could be even happier if he could just tell Y/N how he feels. But their friendship is still so new, so delicate that he doesn’t want to mess it up. However, faking it is getting harder and harder to maintain. But she’d been right, as he’s discovering she usually is- he hadn’t loved her rightly before. Now...now he sees her, really sees her. He recognizes her as more than just a beautiful, smart, and kind woman. All of that is true, yes, but she’s more - so much more. It hit him in waves, this new, improved, deeper love, but it didn’t hurt him. It made him want to live. 

He felt stupid and weird for admiring Y/N as she took care of Jack when Strauss insisted on post-case interviews for some jacked up bureau behavior policies. It seemed hardly necessary, made Y/N, JJ, and Penelope cry, and required Hotch to relive the worst days of his life. However, all Spencer could focus on was how well Y/N distracted and entertained and comforted Jack while everything was going on. She even managed to make him laugh and smile, a Herculean achievement, really. Hotch knew it was Y/N, too, for who else, truly, could’ve accomplished such a thing? He’s mouthed her a ‘thank you’ and Y/N had replied with a small smile, and Spencer’s heart had grown four sizes too big in his chest.

Spencer held her hand the entirety of Haley’s funeral, which elated his soul and broke his heart all at the same time. He longed - longed - to be able to provide comfort, or something beyond comfort, really. He really longed to tell her how he feels about her, but after the first confession had gone so poorly, he’s terrified it’ll destroy the trust he’s worked so hard to gain.

“Are you okay?” she whispers into him. He’s held her all through the post- funeral reception, arms around her, her head in his shoulder. The two of them are the only ones left at the BAU table. The rest of the team has scattered off, Hotch and Rossi went off to talk, Emily was talking to some of Haley’s old school friends with Derek, and Penelope, Will, Kevin, and JJ were talking with some of Jack’s cousins parents while the kids ate some dinner.

“Of course I am,” he replies quietly, arms tightening around her. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles wetly, tears falling down her cheeks. “Hard to not be when you’ve let me use you as my personal shoulder to cry on for the past hour and a half.”

“I have absolutely no problem being your personal anything, Y/N,” he rasps, trying desperately not reveal too much. She pulls away slightly and looks at him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Spencer smiles down at her, “There it is.”

“There is what?” she asks almost shyly.

“There’s that smile,” he replies honestly. “I’ve missed it all day long.”

She beams up at him and he allows himself to be a little proud of the fact that he’s flustered her a bit. She meets his eyes again and pecks a small kiss onto the apple of his cheek.

“Sorry I made you wait for it,” she teases.

Spencer’s face is on fire, and he can only thank the adrenaline when he responds with, “I’d wait a lifetime for you, Y/N.”

Her eyes grow wide at that, “Spencer, I-“

“We have a case,” JJ interrupts suddenly, nearly breathless and clearly pissed that they were being called into the field now - of all the worst times to be called.

He spends the case in a daze, hardly aware of what’s happening - some creep in Nashville is stalking the high-class women he valets for and killing them in their homes. The case doesn’t lack in twists and turns, but he’s finding it harder to focus than ever before. And he knows that has everything to do with Y/N. 

She’s hard not to notice on this case, as she is at all times, but she’s just so...dynamic and brilliant when working on cases that it’s really hard not to notice. But, this is the first time in a very long while that he’s allowed himself to notice, though in his case ‘notice’ is more like ‘unabashedly admire her while on the job’. Spencer even lets himself get excited when she meets his gaze from time to time and doesn’t sneer or look uncomfortable, but smiles back, sweetly. A simple smile, but the likes of which he never believed he’d be on the receiving end. 

When the unsub is brought in for interrogation, she offers herself up for the task. While she’s not quite the unsub’s type, as she’s not an up and coming business woman with a loaded bank account at her fingertips, she’s stil a powerful woman. Different than others in her field, Spencer notes to himself. She holds her power delicately, not in an outrightly feminine way, but in a way that made it clear, from the moment you meet her that she is open, vulnerable, but still ready to take on the world with gentle heart. A heart that Spencer wants to inhabit and hold with all the care he possesses. 

He’s watching this woman - this wonderful, perfect woman - absolutely kick ass in this interrogation from the other side of the glass when JJ approaches him. 

“She’s absolutely nailing this,” she whispers to him, gesturing to Y/N. 

“She really is,” Spencer agrees, his eyes never leaving the calm, collected creature fiercely and deftly interrogating the unsub. 

“Wow,” JJ whispers in mock surprise, “Dr. Spencer Reid agreeing with a positive assessment of Y/N Y/L/N...I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer mutters, openly admitting how utterly incorrect he’d been for the first time ever. “I was an ass, I’ll admit it.”

“You would shape up just when she’s about to leave us,” JJ teases. 

“Wait, what?” Spencer finally turns to look down at the petite blonde woman. “She’s...she’s leaving?” 

“Did she not tell you?” JJ asks, genuinely unaware of his lack of knowledge. “I thought she would’ve told you; you guys seemed to be getting along so-”

“Why is she leaving JJ?” Spencer demands. JJ stares up at him, wide-eyed, clearly unprepared for this level of response. 

“Strauss offered her the unit chief position for the field office in Las Vegas,” she tells him. “I thought she’d surely tell you; she’s going to Las Vegas for God’s sakes. I mean you’re the only one who will probably ever see her again-”

But Spencer doesn’t hear anymore of what she’s saying, partially becasue he feels like his ears are ringing and partially because he’s walking away from JJ as fast as his cane will let him. As fast as his breaking heart, just barely repaired from before, will let him. 

~~~

Spencer can’t even breathe he’s so nervous. Terrified, really. This is only the third time he’s been to Y/N’s home, but, much like before, his heart is both in his mouth and dropped into his stomach. 

“Spencer?” Y/N asks when she opens the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I...you-well...I meant to...” He cuts off his own blubbering, staring into her eyes - those gorgeous eyes that he wants to swim in forever. “I wanted to say that...that I’m...so excited for you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows, her eyes searching his, “Excited for me?” 

“About the Vegas field office,” he rasps. His voice sounds like it isn’t coming from him, like it’s far away. “I’m not sure why you didn’t, um, tell me. But JJ mentioned it and I wanted to say, um, congratulations; you deserve it.”

“Oh...that,” Y/N’s eyes widen and then her gaze drops to her feet. “Yeah, um...I’m not...I’m not taking the job.” 

Spencer’s mouth opens and closes an embarrassing number of times before he gets it together to speak, “That’s...um...I mean...why not? It’s a really great opportunity.”

“I mean,” Y/N meets his eyes, something unreadable in them that he can’t quite figure out, “it is...I just don’t...I don’t want it.” 

"Oh,” Spencer nods, numbly. There’s a curiosity growing in the back of his throat, a question he doesn’t want to ask, but desperately needs to. “Is there any particular reason why?”

“I’m staying because I can’t leave y-” she cuts herself off before saying, “I’m not sure that you’ll want to know, actually.” She’s whispering like she’s terrified, but her eyes never leave his.

“I can assure you that I’ve never wanted to know something more,” he manages to say. If she’s saying waht he thinks she’s saying, he’s on the brink of a happiness he never thought possible. 

“I’m not sure if...if...” she trails off for a moment, a soft smile coming to her face, “you did say that I'm fickle.”

“I'm not sure if I’ve made this clear, but, in case I haven’t, you have to know that I was wrong,” he interjects abruptly. “I was so wrong about you. I’m a genius, but I was an idiot. Because there’s nothing wrong with you. At all. In work, in life, in any of it.” 

“No one’s perfect,” she mumbles, now staring at her feet. 

With a confidence he isn’t aware he possessed, he gently places his finger under her chin, tipping it so she’s looking at him, “Any imperfections you have are all a part of what makes you you. And you are wonderful.” 

“Spencer,” she sighs, looking up at him. Tears are pooling in her eyes and he longs to pull her to his chest, to hold her and never let her go. 

“You are too kindhearted to lead me on. If your feelings are still what they were last year, say the word and I will never mention it again.” She’s silent as he finishes his statement, giving him the courage to continue. “If...if your feelings have changed...you must know...you have to know that I am in love with you. I always have been and I always will be.” 

“My feelings....” she whispers in disbelief, “my feelings have changed. Because I love you, too, Spencer, and I’m-”

He cuts her off then with a kiss he’s been desperate to give her since he can’t remember when. Thankfully she kisses him back. He only pulls away when the painful need for oxygen demands it. 

On a rasping breath, he kisses her hairline and teasingly whispers, “No apologies from either of us for a while, I think.”

“I agree,” Y/N grins up at him. It’s a grin he’s never seen before, one he hopes is just for him. 

Spencer presses another kiss into her hairline, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest, “No apologies are necessary with you in my arms.”

~ “Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?” - Jane Austen ~

~~~

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[dragon-kazansky]

When all is lost

Gender neutral reader

Angst!

Part one

Part two

♡♡♡

It was truly torture. Benedict had never suffered like this before. No pain has ever been so deep, no word had ever cut him as badly.

To be kept away from someone you loved so dearly because they had been promised to another was the worst kind of pain anyone could endure. Anthony certainly felt this with Kate at one point, though her circumstances were different to yours.

It was only 2 mornings ago that your suitor had called upon you to propose. Benedict's heart broke when he heard the news. By no means was it your fault, nor your say. He did not blame you in the least. No, this had been set up by your parents. They had trapped you.

Violet, his dear mother, watched her son with pity. You had been his perfect match. His love match. Now you had been swept away from him by another, another who you did not love. Her heart ached for you.

"Benedict?"

He did not hear her words. The artist stood with his hands behind his back, looking out across the garden to where you stood. Your head was bowed down slightly. You were not meeting the gaze of the man who you were to marry. Your parents hovered at your side, speaking fondly with him.

You did not want to be there.

Benedict swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. He turned his gaze away from you. He had to, even though he wished not to. He couldn't look at the scene any longer. It was taking all his strength not to go over there and create a scene. He would not put his family under the gaze of the ton, or Lady Whistledown for that matter, to become another topic of gossip.

He so wished he could save you.

"Excuse me," he muttered, moving past his mother and disappearing to the other end of the garden. He had to get away. He had to leave.

Eloise, who had been gossiping with her dear friend Penelope, saw her brother make haste through the garden. Penelope told Eloise she would occupy her time elsewhere for a moment, should she wish to go after him. She thanked her friend and trotted off in the direction Benedict had gone off to.

She found him alone, just a ways from the garden party. His fists were clenched and he was pacing.

Eloise knew Benedict had wanted to propose to you. In fact, he had intended to do it the day he found out. Though the news of you being already engaged had beaten him to it. Never had she seen her brother so distraught.

If not for Violet, he would still be at home now, sulking in his room, turning away all those who came to his door.

"Brother?"

Benedict stopped his pacing and turned around, seeing his sister standing there.

"Eloise. Forgive me."

Eloise shook her head.

"I have nothing to forgive you for. You're hurting. I don't like seeing you like this."

Benedict puts on a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Then I apologise for that. I cannot pretend it doesn't hurt to see them in such misery. That should be me. Making them smile. Making them happy. Making them... a Bridgerton."

Eloise smiles sadly at him.

"I know."

The younger Bridgerton steps forward and approaches her brother. She hooks her arm with his and leans into his side. He welcomes her comfort.

"You really did make a handsome couple," she says.

Benedict smiles proudly at Eloise.

"Thank you, sister. I can say, happily and truly, that I love them. Which is why my heart is broken, and I think quite possibly unable to be fixed."

Eloise hates the fact that her brother was feeling this way.

The sound of someone approaching has them stopping still and looking up in the direction of the oncoming person. The sound of their feet were rushed and urgent.

Then you came into view.

Benedict stood still as stone. His arm gave Eloise's a squeeze. His sister looked from you in shock, to her brother in concern.

"Benedict..."

His name falls from your lips so smoothly and easily. Oh, how he loves the sound. Never had his name sounded so wonderful before.

"Why are you here?" Is the first thing to fall from his mouth. He watched you falter where you stand.

"I had to see you."

Eloise loosens her hold on her brother and takes a step back. She smiles at you. Eloise had become quite fond of you.

"I'm glad you did," Benedict said, though he struggled to remain composed. his breathing was uneven and his eyes became teary.

"Oh, Benedict."

As soon as you rushed over to him he reached for yours hands. He brought them to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of them.

"I don't want this to be my life. I don't want him, I want you!"

"I want nothing more than that," he says, breathlessly.

Eloise watches with sorrow. Damn the world for what it's doing to you. If Benedict was going to marry anyone, it had to be you.

"Benedict, I must speak with mama," Eloise spoke urgently.

"And have her do what? As much I love our mother, even she does not have the power to change this outcome."

Eloise held no ill regard from his words. She understood what he meant.

"Perhaps not, but Lady Whistledown might."

You let out a breath of a chuckle.

"I cannot say I understand what she could do. I am met with a fate I do not want. I cannot change this, no matter how much I want to."

You and Benedict look at one another with desperate longing.

"As his sister, I will not stand by and let Benedict lose the one good person he has in his life. You're a Bridgerton by name or not. You belong with our family. I shall see to it that something is done," Eloise says, determination dripping from her words. She storms away from your hiding spot and returns to the party, seeking out her mother.

Benedict holds your hands a little tighter.

"I cannot lose you," he whispers.

"I love you, Benedict."

In that moment, it's as if the world has turned upside down. Nothing else matters. In that moment, there is no engagement. There is no garden party. There is just two souls who love each other so much it burns.

"I love you more than anything in my life," he tells you.

You smile.

"What do we do?" You ask.

Benedict stands a little straighter, raises his head a little higher, and smiles at you.

"We wait."

You give his hands a little squeeze.

"How long?"

Benedict turns to glance in the direction of where the party is being held. Normally he cared little for what Lady Whistledown had to say, or what his sister gets up to when she is not with him. Tonight, however, he cared more than anything.

"Until Monday. An answer will come to us." He looks back at you. "You will not marry that man. You will marry me. I shall to it if I have to."

You smile at him.

"Then I will wait for you."

The urge to kiss you is growing, but he revisits. Though no one is around to see it, he will save that for the day when it matters most.

"I'm not letting you go without a fight."

You grin.

"Oh, I know. It's the Bridgerton way."

He chuckles.

"You, my darling, will fit right in."

Monday couldn't come soon enough.

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

It's Going To Be You

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Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

—————————————————–

Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

-

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

-

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

-

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

-

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

-

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

-

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

-

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

-

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.