#reading gideon after reading the others. you can see it.

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

every time i think about the locked tomb series i just circle back to “you can’t take loved away” and “life is short, love is long”

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you���re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[grimoirguestbook]

Book of Bill Website Codes

(Organized by category with notes)

Here's my list of inputs that work on the website :)

Hopefully the read more works like I think it does and I don't accidentally spoil anybody

That being said by clicking read more you will see All of the codes I have found so far

Please be mindful and try not to spoil anybody else with this information. So please be careful if reblogging

I got everything I have collected/found on here, it's a bit messy right now but After I take a small break I'll reorganize and add notes but for now everything's on here, please so check out the posts linked in the log as once I lost all leads I looked to their post for other inputs :)

Also feel free to put any you know of that Aren't on here in the replies I'm sure there's some missing

I will be updating as I find more so check back in if you can! :)

Thank you!

They'll be categorized by

Neat Tv text- Nothing special the tv just gets some text to it

Tab pages-brings you to another tab/website

Audio/video- Audio/video clip plays

Readables- A picture will pop up on screen that you can read

Printables- You can print them :D!

Other- Hard to categorize

Note:

If an * is next to a name that means that you can get different results for the same prompt

(Any personal notes will be in parenthesis)

-> An arrow means that the Passwords are found in the previous page

ex- Page with code that translates to "dork"-> Dork

Slashes/mean/that/any/of/the/prompts/listed/will/take/you/to/the/same/page

Blue text with an underline is a link! Haha! would you look at that! it works!

Will Keep this updated as I find more and will Note the logs at the end of this post

?????

For the mason page anagrams I know WHO they are I just don't know WHAT to do with them, i know it says cryptogram codex at the bottom i think i have to do something with the anagram results but I'm unsure what that is. Stanford Pines Stanlie Pines Gideon Charles Gleeful Preston Northwest Pacifica Elisa Northwest

Notes to Dipper Prompt: (Unsure why- Maybe going to Blind eye page and blurring it but changes from dipper being told to stare at the sun to "I THINK ITS WORKING! STARE HARDER! HARDER!" and the page looking burnt I Think it has to do with how many input codes you enter, It now says "you've almost solved it" and is even more burnt than before, it is now full black)

Neat Tv text-

Pines

Blendin

*Triangle

Axolotl

Ducktective

Book of Bill

TJ Eckleburg (Great Gatsby)

Nothing

Something

*Ciphertology

Deer Teeth

Scalene

Scrimbles

No

Fortnite/skibidi/ohio/rizz/crypto/elon/gyatt/Doge

Life

Death

Portal

Question

Answer

Euclid

*Well Well Well Being

Reality

The Universe

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Theyll see/They'll all see/I see

Filbrick

Disney/Disneyland/Mickey Mouse

CIA/FBI/NSA

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

Season 3

Season 2

Season 1

Caryn

Euclydia

Skeleton

Who are you

Burnside

Family matters

When will I die

Multilevel mark/caesaratbashvigenere

Scientology

Easter egg

Sevral times

oh yes they both

Am i Blanchin

Bye gold

Youre insane

History

Hologram

Scalene

Euclid

Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Text Chain (You get questions who's answer is another password)

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> 333 sundapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611-> MutliLevel mark->emmaline butternubbins->Dispense my treat

What i thought it was (with answer sources):

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Answers found in TBOB- Don't Know, NA, Mcguckets dream page, Medieval page, Anti-Cipher Section- tonic page, Anti Cipher Section- Newspaper, Top Secret page, Textbook page- Skin, Dark Ages Page, Anti Cipher Section-Epilogue, A winter break- footprints page, Book of Bill Cover options page, Never trust a wizard page, Have you dreamed this fellow ad (references informercial in show)

Tab pages-

Abuelita

Dippy Fresh

Alex Hirsch/Alex/Hirsch

*Stan/Stanley (his outfit in ebay searches plus a READABLE with SICK music mind you-Check readable section for more info)

Grunkle Stan

*Gideon (second option unlocked after fully "mableizing" the room)

Waddles

Mcgucket/ Old man McGucket/Fiddleford

Bill/Cipher/LLIB/LLIBREHPIC

Bill Cipher/Rehpic

Zyler (Goes to same place as Craz)

Craz (Goes to same place as Zyler)

Toby Determined

Gravity Falls

Mystery Shack

Not a phase

Blanchin

Peak

Cray Cray

Fixinit1

Meow

Fuck alex/Fuck you alex

Globnar

Monster

Audio/video-

Babba/Discogirl

*Gideon (unlocked after fully "mabelizing" the room)

Tad Strange

Pinata (DEFINATELY WORTH WATCHING)

Vallis Cineris (Found on wall when lightning strikes)

Hey Nerd

Weird (Love him)

Spookemups/Spooky/Scary

That's just a/Theory/Gametheory/Matpat (<3)

One Eyed King-> Naitsuaf (Morse Code) ( early years page)

Forget the past

Im still on your mind

Dorito/Nacho

Just fit in

Rubberhose

Love/Boyfriend

Hectoring

Conspiracy

God/Frillium/Help me

Burned inside

Kook

Kubrick

Small/audio log/music (nothing showed up at first, turned off tv and strange audio played, needs to be reversed)

L is real 2401 (soos my boy)

Readables-

Mason (Dippers real name)

*Dipper (personal notes in ???- keep opening the card to get different results)

Pacifica-> PlatinumPaz

Ford/Standford/Sixer

Wendy

Robbie (def worth a look IMO)

Soos-> Pinata

Cursed (Translated from candle in background)

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Blind Eye->Theyll see (Will blur if clicked on, cannot un-blur, may change dipper?)

Weirdmageddon

Lies

Sorry

Booberry (Decoded from popsicle stick)

Even his lies are lies (Front paper)

Tantrum ( code on Bills Mugshot page)

Suck it Merlin

Shave your Grandma (leads to dippy fresh page)

Baby Bill/baby/lalalalala/daddy/mommy

Owl Trowel

Hotxolotl->Seven eyes-> r34lity

Love ya bro

Fuck/Shit/Fuckyou/bitch/slut/sex

Baaaa-> Black Sheep

naitsuaf (click are you ready-> Sign "pleasure doing business with you -candle light turns blue- OR be a coward (losing sound effect plays)

oroborous-> Frillium

Glass sand beach

math/trigonometry/

horror/creepypasta

destruction is a form of creation

unreality

you can't kill an idea

virus

Occurremusiterum

*Stan (click multiple times to get-once there click "how he beat me several times)

Card

Theraprism

Dionarap->stod eht tcennoc

Printables-

Tyrone/Clone/Paperjam

Curse Wittebane (translates runes on page about witches)

Paper is just book skin ( BE WARNED: automatically downloads a photoshop file and crashses the cite)

Irregular (has code on it)

Divorce/breakup

Other-

Mabel (You get fun stickers and a popping sound :) )

*Giffany ( You put her name in multiple times and it forcibly downloads pictures of her and a text document to your computer, scared me a little Not gonna lie here)

Kings of New Jersey (downloads "secret code" font)

cryptogram codex (downloads cryptogram fonts)

dispense my treat-> Kook (downloads a bunch of cool wallpapers)

Log:

One hour after posting: Added 17 new words

Found by me: Booberry, Mountain Dont, Xgqrthx, titans blood, lyre liar, haralds ramblings, union made

Accidentally found by looking at a post: Sorry

Gifted by replier (Thank you!): MATPAT, yes, no, Fortnite, life, death, portal, question, answer

30 minutes after last update: 9 Words added

Found by me: Theraprism, 29121239168518, Grebley Hemberdreck, Rat, 3466554, Tinsel Snake, Torture Mentally, Fordtramarine, Gun (shocked that worked It was a joke- "bill cipher has A GUN")

Like THREEEEEEE ish hours later?

Found by me: one eyed king, well well well being, shave your grandma, paper is just book skin, even his lies are lies, forget the past, irregular, euclid, tantrum, suck it merlin

Like 12 hours later

Found by me: Reality, Baby Bill, Reality, The universe, Giffany (why is it two Fs, Blarg) They'll see, I'm still on your mind, Journal 1, Journal 2, Journal 3

Gifted to me by a replier (Thank you!): Owl Trowel

Idk- Later

Found by me: hotxolotl, lova ya bro, kings of new jersey, fuck, just fit in

Found on twitter(JasonRitter): Dorito, Blanchin'

Gifted to me by Replier(Thank you!): Gideon's option knowledge

Even MORE later:

Me: Seven eyes, r34ality, filbrick, disney, skibidy, rizz, ohio, love, cia, fbi, rubberhose, 333 sundapple lane cozy creek il 60714-94611, bahhhh, black sheep, naitsuaf, oroborous,theyll see, theyll all see Frillium, occuremusiterum (some of these i gave myself because i was really close but just missed a small detail/spelling)

Taken from here and Here Because I got stumped: Season 3, Season2 , Season 1, Glass shard beach, caryn, Euclydia, Peak, Theory, Cray Cray, Help me, mickey mouse, hectoring, divorce, breakup, skeleton, math, history, monster, gyatt, who are you, fixinit1, conspiracy, riddle, cryptogram codex, horror, creepypasta, trigonometry, god, boyfriend,baby, lalalalala, scary, trigonometry,just blendin, morality, burnside, family matters, when will i die, elon, multilevel mark, goodnight sally,paper jam, tourist trap,the duchess approves,shape, scientology, meow, nacho, crypto,sevral times,easter egg, oh yes they both, daddy, mommy, burned inside, destruction is a form of creation, i see, unreality, you can't kill an idea, am i blanchin, fuck alex, fuck you alex, fuck you, shit, bye gold, nsa, globnar,disneyland,kook, kuibrick,virus,that's just a, you're insane

Next day

Found online: Dionarap, stod eht tcennoc, dispense my treat

[clipartdinosaur]

Griddlehark Fics

I have read an absolutely insane amount of Griddlehark fanfics in the past few months so I figured I could make a like...list of all of my favorites that I bookmarked. I'm not sure if anyone will use this but if anything it will be for my own self-indulgence LOL. Just a heads up, this list WILL contain spoilers up to Nona the Ninth, so proceed with your own discretion. Anyway here we go!

(♥︎ = favorite!)

Short (<15k):

"By the Sword" by JeanLuciferGohard (2.6k)

The Reverend Daughter of the Ninth, Necrosaint, Ascended, the greatest bone adept in an Age, does one push-up, and collapses. Harrow does not beg for her cavalier. Harrow rakes her hair back and snarls, “Nav, I am going to unzip your cranial sutures. One by one. And zip them up again sideways.”

"Your Necro Questions Answered" by Magichorse (8.8k)

Syndicated columnist "Nav the Cav" offers a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the galaxy and dispenses practical, no-nonsense, real talk advice on how to properly manage and care for your necromancer.

"A Lesson in Bones" by Magichorse (3.8k)

One of the laboratory trials at Canaan House compels Harrowhark to swap bodies with her cavalier. What will Gideon do with the power of the most talented bone adept in generations at her disposal? Nothing good, probably.

"Visions of Gideon" by tothewillofthepeople (13k)

Oh my god they were roommates...

"true love's kiss, or something equally nauseating" by corpsesoldier (4.6k)

She was where she needed to be. She was going to pull her necro out of this godforsaken tomb, end the game of musical bodies they were playing, and then everything would be all right. Harrow would be alive. And Gideon was going to give her shit for approximately the next myriad for not just taking what she’d offered and saving them a whole lot of trouble.

"The Big Warm Dark" by decalexas (haelstorm) (2.7k)

Gideon Nav knows how to swing a longsword, brandish a rapier, bridge the gap between life and death, punch the dead in the face, and maybe overthrow an Empire along the way. What she doesn't know how to do is reach for the girl who made all of this possible.

"carrion comfort, despair (not feast on thee)" by NotAFicWriter (5k)

Some time after Alecto wakes, Harrow and Gideon finally have a moment to speak to one another. Hearts are bared. Teeth are bared. Intentions are bared. It all comes at great personal cost (emotional honesty).

"never exhale all the way" by pigflight (1.2k)

Harrowhark paints Gideon's face.

"such an almighty sound" by CountingNothings (10k)♥︎

“I need you to marry me,” Harrow says, a propos of absolutely nothing that Gideon can see. And, uh, okay, this is not what childhood best frenemies say to each other upon discovering that both of their graduate programs have weird residence requirements. “What,” Gideon asks, “the fuck?”

"A Handsomely Dangerous Thing" by zoicite (1.5k)

Had Harrow ever looked at Gideon and felt pride before? Surely not. It sat like a tumor in her chest, a cancerous lump that had grown where it did not belong.

"How it didn't happen" by Nary (1.5k)

"How did you lose it?" Coronabeth asked, more softly than her sister's shrill voice. The group assembled at Canaan House barely knew her, and yet here they were, asking the most irritatingly personal questions, and acting as if they were being kind and thoughtful by prying into her secrets. "I dropped my pen into a vat of acid and reached in to grab it without thinking," Harrow said dryly. Coronabeth recoiled, screwing up her pretty nose. Ianthe looked unsure whether to believe her or not. Their meatslab of cavalier just stared blankly. "The Daughter of the Ninth House was blessed in this manner from her birth, as a symbol of her strength and power over the mysteries of necromancy," Ortus interjected. Harrow glared at him. "Oh," Coronabeth said, an expression of disgusting sympathy on her flawless face. "But then you would never have known who your soulmate was!" Harrow's glare intensified. "My soulmate is bones."

"Halcyon Nights" by Morike91 (10k)

It was hard to tell what was worse: feeling the full warmth of those unguarded honey eyes fall on Harrow, or watching them narrow in recognition and contempt, their warmth now hotter with something else.  “What can I get you?” It has been at least four years since Harrow last heard the voice of Gideon Nav, but it was still as familiar as her right hand. 

"I completely fucking hate you" by ClaraZorEl (7.5k)

In the coming weeks, Harrowhark learns an unfortunate great deal about Gideon Nav. The kind of porn she likes, the number of bread rolls she can fit into her mouth at once, that she always leans too heavily on her left leg when she fights but can do fifty-seven push-ups in a row without stopping, that her biceps rates 11/10 on the scale of good biceps, that her laugh rumbles like an army of skeletons, and most importantly, that she can’t fucking stand her. Gideon Nav is so grating that Harrow has no doubt she will be her undoing. OR Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been invited to Canaan University's ball. But to successfully represent her house, she needs a cavalier, and unfortunately, her only option is her least favourite barista from her least favourite coffee shop.

"A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them" by pipistrelle (7k)

"In the end, she poisoned Ortus; so it was Harrow Nova who walked out to the shuttle a half-step behind the Daughter of the Ninth, the chain of Samael Novenary wound about her offhand wrist, the black blade of the Ninth at her side."

"The Only Prayer We Know" by pipistrelle (12k) [Part 2 of "A Thousand Teeth, Yours Among Them"]

It's like a bad joke: two cavaliers (alive) and two necromancers (one dead) walk into a rebel faction of humanity, looking for a new life -- in every sense of the phrase. What they find is each other, and (in some cases) themselves.

"The Flames of Hell Are Warm" by silverapples (7k)

In which Harrow is a repressed evangelical Christian and Gideon performs burlesque in a lesbian nightclub. Feat. nipple pasties, chewing gum, and a steaming mug of gay coffee (wake up and smell it, Harrow).

"Necro Business" by rnanqo (1.6k) ♥︎

“Gideon,” you said carefully, “I will need to examine your mouth. Various structures, primarily the jaw, but also the lingual muscles—the tongue—” You stopped there. Your cheeks were going red, probably with indignity. “Yeah,” I said, a bit too loudly, “yeah, sure. Do it.”

"Holy Cross, Alaska" by softieghost (10k) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Harrow meets Gideon. They go through it together.

"my love will be your armor" by TheKnightsWhoSayBook (2.3k)

"The princess has a right to bestow her favor on whoever she wishes to win a match," Gideon tells her. "Are you going to?" "Why would I? I don't want to marry him," Harrow answers bitterly. "Do you want me to win?" Princess Harrow will be engaged to the winner of the tournament, and her only champion is her useless bodyguard Sir Gideon Nav, who isn't going to save her. Unless...?

"The Meaning Of The Word" by pipistrelle (8.4k)

Harrow, along with a good percentage of Canaan University's necromancy students, has the flu. Gideon has a lot of feelings that she is in no way equipped to handle. It's a tough week.

"(i shine only with the light you gave me)" by sashawire (1.7k) ♥︎

God prods, gently, “Even just starting with their physical description, and we can go from there.” “Imagine,” you say, from somewhere outside your body, “the worst shade of orange you’ve ever seen in your life.” * Harrowhark receives her saintly title.

"i will learn to love the shears" by corpsesoldier (4.7k)

The avulsion trial left Harrow's hair in a sorry state and Gideon offers up her expertise with a blade. Or, Gideon gives Harrow a haircut.

"The Titty Texts: A Work of a Stupendous Titty Nature" by EleniaTrexer (3k)

Gideon accidentally sends Harrow boobs. And then just keeps on sending them.

"can we start over?" by breeeliss (10k)

Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex.

"Dark Mode Enabled" by senseoftheday (12k)

Tech Company AU in which a certain Sales bro with no filter decides to ruin Harrow's life (and feature roadmap) by initiating the cross-functional project from hell. At least, Gideon has the decency to work remotely, and Harrow's new office crush makes some pretty great coffee.

"deconsecrated graves" by emotionsandphenomena (4k)

Gideon and Harrow got out of the cult they were raised in. Okay, what's next?

"settle up in heaven" by liesmyth (3k) ♥︎

“Isn’t this arrogance, Harrow?” Kiriona says. “Think you could fix what God couldn’t?”

"Quoth the Maiden" by Sarsaparilla (10.9k)

The bold outlaws Nova Hawk and Gideon meet for the first time on a narrow log-bridge. But is it really their first meeting? Or: what if Robin Hood and Little John were both lesbians?

"twice in a blue moon" by sinshine (8.7k) ♥︎

Gideon snapped out of her depressing reverie and blinked at her. "That's a really good idea." "Obviously," said Harrow, and it was only a little bit condescending. "Step one, sneak out of the party. Step two, acquire the necessary items at a store. Step three–" Harrow gestured vaguely at the deer in Gideon's hands– "And step four, profit." [G&H rush to fix a smashed snow globe that Dulcinea made so that Cam doesn't kill them before the clock strikes midnight at their NYE party. The fact that Gideon is back in her hometown after a long time away and she and Harrow have unresolved romantic tension is secondary and definitely won't be a problem.]

"It Came From Planet Slut" by LockedTombMemes (8k)

Well. Evidently going undercover to an Idan society fling in order to deliver a message to a high-profile BoE agent was a tits-out kind of look.

"Apostate's Yuletide" by sinshine (12.6k)♥︎

Gideon raised one eyebrow comically high. She smiled easily, erasing any hint of the anxiety that Harrow might have sensed. "What's with all the questions today?" Harrow huffed indignantly and fidgeted with the blanket draped across her lap, worrying the frayed hem with her fingers. "I thought your ego would appreciate the interest." "Yeah, but it's weird coming from you. I'm used to you monologuing, not playing twenty questions." "Perhaps it's a Christmas miracle," suggested Harrow, with an expression so absolutely devoid of joy that Gideon couldn't help but laugh. [Harrow and Gideon burn down a church on Xmas.]

"when it's over" by Adertily (2.5k)

Harrowhark had sworn to herself to live to see the girl in the locked tomb awaken. Alecto has risen. Now God is dead, along with everyone who had ever been dear to her - and Gideon has returned as a distorted creature. The war is over. Harrow wishes she could be too. Or: A character study based on Harrow's suicidal ideation and Gideon's determination to never run anywhere unless she absolutely has to.

"Supernova Bloom!" by sinshine (13k)

"It's just for a week, and then you never have to see me again," said Gideon. "I don't have time to find anyone else." And, "Please." Slowly, Harrow took her hand off the door and cautiously turned around. Gideon watched a dozen unspoken questions flicker across her face. She voiced none of them, but eventually settled on an expression of grim resignation. "I suppose I could suffer you for a week." [Gideon needs help getting her new flower shop ready for the grand opening. Harrow needs cash.]

"I still need your teeth around my organs" by sinshine (7.8k)

Although she was a beloved Daughter and a talented necromancer, Gideon's greatest vice was that she dearly loved to fuck around and find out. Knowing this, perhaps it shouldn't have been as shocking when she lifted one of Nova's hands, flipped it over, and kissed her palm. [4 times Gideon kisses Harrow, 1 time Harrow kisses Gideon]

"cuckoo, cuckoo" by sashawire (1.2k)

What Wake gives it is not a name. To do so would be a moronic, unnecessary cruelty. But she does deign to give it the microscopic dignity of a title, a goal, a purpose. Bomb. Eighteen years later, in the rubble of a once-sacred home, Harrowhark Nonagesimus reaches up and touches Gideon Nav’s grit-covered, blood-rimed face, splits a laugh like the world is ending, and calls her “flower.” * Six times God's unwanted daughter was nicknamed, and once she wasn't.

"my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear" by sashawire (<1k) ♥︎

Gideon chomps into her tongue as hard as she can convince herself, stifling a very dignified squawk. Her eyes water, Emperor’s left tit that fucking hurts, but—it works. Blood weeps from the bite marks, creeping down the back of her throat, up into her nasal cavity, staining her teeth. Okay. She has blood in her mouth. Blood that, somehow, needs to get into Harrow’s mouth. * Step #6: Consume the flesh.

"fifteen percent concentrated power of will" by surreptitiously (9k)

Teaching someone to do a push-up is a love language, when that person is very annoying.

"GHAZAL WHERE I'M BEGGING YOU TO TOUCH ME" by igneousbitch (12k)

You had your body and I had mine, and it was a miracle. Your hands against my face were a miracle. The rest of your meat attached to your hands was a prayer answered and a promise broken, but we were flush and gasping and alive, and Harrow—I really thought you might’ve kissed me then. But I felt it happen. The way your breath suddenly stilled, and your body locked up beneath mine, remembering. How with splintering gentleness, you pushed me away. “I’m so sorry,” was the second thing you said upon waking. The first thing had been my name. Stranded in a safehouse on an Edenite moon, Gideon and Harrow try to put themselves back together.

"catch you on the flip side, sugar lips" by corpsesoldier (4.9k)

Maybe if Harrow's brain runs enough scenarios, she'll find a way to keep what she's lost.

"hand to heart, I swear" by corpsesoldier (5k)

Gideon has a broken heart, and there's only one necromancer who can fix it.

Medium (15-30k)

"If you're doing it right you'll break their ribs" by almostnectarine (22.4k)

"How do you know Nonagesimus has gone somewhere dangerous?" asked Isaac. "Have you wired some kind of alert system?" "It's, uh. It's on the schedule," said Gideon. "I just... forgot. Because of the bread." Nobody was convinced by this, least of all Gideon. "It's a Ninth House thing," Gideon went on, backing away with increasing desperation. This was a slightly more plausible explanation, if only because nobody wanted to look too closely at what fell under the awful skeletal-ribbed and rotting umbrella of Ninth House things. "Gotta go—!" And she was out the door, gone. But it wasn't a Ninth House thing, except inasmuch as it was happening to the only two representatives of the noble and decrepit Ninth House on this quite literally godforsaken rock. Gideon knew Harrow had gone somewhere dangerous—knew that Harrow was back in the lab where they had only just completed a horrible trial—because she could see it, clear as day: an awful overlay on her vision of that terrible dangerous room and a pair of terrible dangerous hands drawing some kind of ward next to the plinth. The hands were definitely Harrow's. This was definitely a problem.

"If Home Is Where the Heart Is (Then We're All Just Fucked)" by JeanLuciferGohard (17k) ♥︎

When Gideon Nav gets a call that her ex-girlfriend, who never bothered to change her designated emergency contact, is in the hospital, she goes against her better judgement and responds. Everything after that just gets more complicated.

"blue gray green lavender" by smolranger (29k) ♥︎

Laser Radial sailor Gideon Nav just wants pass her classes, win a few regattas, and keep her head down. FJ sailor Harrowhark Nonagesimus has grand plans to qualify for the Olympics, preserve her parent's legacy, and save her home town. Despite the ties binding them together, the two have kept their college lives carefully separate for two years. But when Harrow's helm, Ortus, suffers a concussion mid-way through the fall season, their carefully separated lives collide. Harrow needs someone capable of taking Ortus' place for the remainder of the season or her Olympic dreams — and Canaan College's entire sail team — are in peril. And Gideon is her only option.

"Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" by zoicite (24k)

Harrow and Gideon and times they have (and also have not) shared a bed over the years.

"Disney World, Florida" by softieghost (24.6k) [Part 2 of "Holy Cross, Alaska"]

After the events of Alaska, Harrow thanks Gideon the only way she knows how: devotion. -- Chapter 3: The journey concludes. More confessions.

"we've got a good thing goin' " by sinshine (14.6k) ♥︎

“Not to sound ungrateful, but being here makes me wish that you had left me for dead,” said Harrow. Gideon had been staring hard at the face of the fountain’s statue. She was pretty sure that it was carved in the likeness of Naberius himself, but she didn’t want to say it out loud and make it true. She shook her head and turned to Harrow. “Leaving me to live out eternity in your bony sock puppet of a body? Hard pass.” Palamedes and Camilla shared a look. It was the mutual understanding of two people who had been trapped in close quarters with the bickering of Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus for far too long. [Team 69 hide out in Babs's vacation home. Because it's not like he's using it anyway.]

"Cake by the Ocean" by zoicite (15k)♥︎

Okay, so the thing was, Gideon had always been shit at plans. She knew that. Everyone knew that, but this--she really didn’t think it would be this hard! Gideon’s voice was like the least memorable thing about her. Bargaining her voice for a well-shaped set of human legs--that really should have worked in her favor.

"careful fear and (un)dead devotion" by sinshine (23k)

[Gideon and Harrow wake up back in their own bodies but both of them are missing large parts of their memory. Camilla tries not to kill everyone.]

"who ya gonna call?" by igneousbitch (24k)

“Fret not, honeybun.” Gideon shook her red hair out of her eyes, belligerent. “I’m not totally sold on your whole skepticism thing.” “Well,” Harrow said, ignoring the nickname. She turned to the rest of the room, clearing her throat politely before addressing the empty air. “Ghosts, if you’re real, give us a sign. Make a noise. Move something. Send a shiver down our backs. Whisper softly into Nav’s left ear—” “I seriously fucking hate you.” - (Casual sex and paranormal investigation. Not necessarily in that order.) (or: the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU in which Gideon is ready to fight a ghost, and Harrow just wants to be haunted.)

Long(>30k):

"Beneath a Blue and Foreign Sky" by zoicite (35k)

Harrow has a decision to make.

"A Heart Full Of Sutures" by Rohad (40k)

All Gideon wanted was to get outside and ride her motorcycle. No part of that plan had included eight weeks in Canaan Medical Center with a broken Pelvis and the meanest little doctor this side of the eastern seabord.

"Midnight at the Mithraeum" by zoicite (66k) ♥︎

It'd been two years since Gideon Nav gathered her wine key and her gaming license and escaped The Locked Tomb, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar managed by the hateful Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Now, dealing tables at The Mithraeum Hotel & Casino, things were really looking up. So when Gideon scored a date with the most beautiful showgirl in the Gilded Halls of Ida, the last thing she expected was to wake up married to her old nemesis and former coworker. The story starts the night of Gideon's date and alternates between the events leading up to the wedding and the weeks that follow as Gideon tries to navigate life married to someone who claims to want nothing more than to forget she exists.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by pipistrelle (90k)

Being the journal of Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus, chronicling the journey of the Emperor's warship Cenotaph on its hunt to slay an immortal Resurrection Beast. Or: the Moby Dick crossover AU that nobody asked for.

"The Darkest Night, The Brightest Light" by eternaleponine (50k)

Harrowhark has known for a long time that her home's financial situation is dire, and not getting better. She has plans to fix it all, but can't implement them until she turns eighteen in a few months. When her parents announce that the best (perhaps only) way to save Drearburh is to marry off its heir, Harrow realizes the timeline has changed and she needs to take action now to save her home... and herself. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. Enter Gideon Nav. Detested foe, and Harrow's only hope.

"putting your fist through a thick sheet of glass (i know you don't want to)" by oretsev (46k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have always been at each other’s throats, and the animosity has only intensified since the death of Harrow’s parents. But when a car accident leaves Gideon without any memories of her past, Harrow sees a chance at the clean slate she’s wanted for years. Becoming involved in Gideon’s recovery assuages some of the guilt, but as she and Gideon become closer and increasingly involved in each other's lives, Harrow worries that some of her secrets may be more than she can atone for.

Ongoing:

"semi-charmed kinda life" by strangedelight (182k+) ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Gideon asked questions. Harrow surprised her with answers. They reached an agreement; they decided to be smart, to be patient. Gideon made a promise, Harrow gave her one in return. Wait and see. OR the year is 1994, and Gideon and Harrow leave their small town for life in the city. OR team 69 roommates au only this time it's the 90s

"Intern the Sixth" by apocalypticTaco (33k+)

ADDRESSING THE HEIR TO THE NINTH HOUSE, OR PRESUMED EQUIVALENT: PALAMEDES SEXTUS, HEIR TO THE SIXTH HOUSE, PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS TO THE NINTH AND REQUESTS A FORMAL ARRANGEMENT WHEREIN HIS MASTER WARDEN AND CAVALIER APPRENTICESHIP UNDER THE NINTH FOR FOUR YEARS IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SIXTH’S SERVICES. *Details to be discussed. Please turn to back page. Timeframe variable. Services and agreements variable upon the Ninth's request. An internship of this caliber is highly unprecedented and likely unheard of, but any information valuable to the Ninth and into the Tomb will remain undisclosed upon request; Primary experience and study is required as the Master Warden has already decided upon such being his final thesis prior to his end studies. No takebacks, no denials. Pleased to meet you. Palamedes Sextus, Heir to the Sixth and Master Warden and Camilla the Sixth, Cavalier Primary and Warden's Hand of the Library

TO THE MASTER WARDEN: FORMALLY REJECTED.

"What's Eating Gideon Nav?" by labyrinthineRetribution (40k+)

After a miserable fifteen years at Blessed Saint Anastasia's School for Girls, Gideon's luck finally changes.

"We Have Always Lived in the Apartment" by labyrinthineRetribution (171k+)

John looks up from his Jack and Coke in drunken curiosity. "What's with the face, Harrowhark?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Contrary to popular belief," Gideon butts in, "her face just fuckin' looks like that, bitch." She tends to use "bitch" as liberally as commas when off her ass. "You're piss drunk," you shoot back. "And you, my good bitch, are just as contemptible as the day you clawed your way up from Hell." - It is Harrowhark Nonagesimus' birthday, and it only gets worse from there.

PWP (basically):

"I'll hold in these hands all that remains" by corvidlesbian (6.5k) ♥︎

“Do you want me to try?” Gideon said. “What?” “You got all hot and bothered without me trying. Do you want me to try?” Their newfound habit of cuddling gets interesting.

"sting of a wasp" by brightbolt, imperfectlyctor (42k) ♥︎

"You’re a virgin,” Gideon said, testing it out. "Huh." Harrow didn’t like the sound of that huh. She knew Gideon’s noises, and that was a thoughtful, sinister huh. That was the same huh she’d made before putting canned tuna in Crux’s work boots. Her eyes narrowed. “What.” Gideon cocked her head to the side. “Is there a reason you’re waiting?” There was no judgement in the question— only genuine curiosity. Perhaps it was this that made Harrow more inclined to answer. “I don’t have the time to look for someone new,” She shrugged. “And my available pool is… somewhat limited.” “Well,” Gideon said, with just a hint of conspiracy in those glittering golden eyes. “If you ever want to change that, you have my number.” What? What? Harrow blinked. “What?” Or: the five times Gideon and Harrow successfully bone, and the one time they don't.

"Suckle, Honey" by zoicite (7.9k)

“You crave my juice,” Gideon accused. “I do not crave your juice.” “Fuck, you do though. You went off to explore that study alone, without your cavalier, using a key that I nearly gave my life for, and then you snorted some powder that made you crave my juice! Harrow. I never would have let you sniff powder from a ten thousand year old jar.” This was untrue--Gideon probably wouldn’t have noticed Harrow breathing in a puff of jar powder until it was too late--but it sounded like something Camilla Hect might say, so Gideon went with it anyway. Camilla definitely would have stopped Palamedes from accidentally sniffing old as fuck Eighth House jarred juice addiction powder.

"Five Times We Hatefucked and One Time We Didn't" by rnanqo (8k)

“Fuck you,” you said. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” You ran a hand through my hair, fisted it, and pulled my head up. From here I had a spectacular view of your weird blown-out seething expression, like I was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Also a view up your blood-crusted nostrils. Choice. “Maybe I will, Griddle,” you said. “Maybe I will stop fucking you over and start fucking you." Gideon and Harrow realize, abruptly, that their hatefucking is no longer hatefucking.

"a call to motion" by groundedsaucer (coasterchild) (10k) ♥︎

Harrow and Gideon watch a porno.

"put her canine teeth in the side of my neck" by stranded_star (8.8k)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus is getting a PhD and a divorce. Against her better judgment, she goes out to the bar to celebrate and meets an incorrigible, absolutely ripped salt-and-paprika butch who takes her home and gives it to her good. To her horror, it's the best night of her life, and she sneaks home with her tail between her legs. Harrow has more important things to worry about - like raising her daughter and building the next stages of her career. But when her daughter's favorite teacher, someone named Griddle, turns about to be the Gideon she met at the bar, she's forced to contend with allowing herself (and her daughter) to find the happy ending she never thought they'd have. Featuring MILF!Harrow, Teacher!Gideon, and a very amused Camilla Hect.

"The Wound That Swallows" by seelieunseelie (7.8k)

Harrow can make out an uncomfortable amount of detail about Gideon’s body beneath. Powerful, strong as ever, yet somehow vulnerable for its supplication below Harrow’s. “Are we gonna get this over with?” Gideon says in a voice softly scratchy. She blushes then when Harrow sits on the edge of the bed. “It will hurt,” Harrow says. “Yeah,” Gideon says. “I think I can handle it.”

[ssa-dado]

1 - Orchids & Knots

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: A young profiler, recently recruited by Jason Gideon, joins the BAU and works with experienced agents, including Hotch and Rossi, on a challenging case involving a methodical killer. Despite initial nervousness, you start to bond with Hotch through wit and shared work ethic, revealing unexpected personal sides along the intense investigation.

Warnings: Usual CM case described in detail, hideous use of one bedroom trope, Gissi implied as a joke

Word Count: 4.1k

Dado's Corner: first part of the upcoming series! Still have no clue of how many parts it could have, just expect a very slow burn. My other fic - Symposium (definitely not platonic love) - is part of the same universe, hence why reader is still a philosophy enthusiast. You can enjoy this pilot as its own or read it before or after Symposium. You do you. Again, I'm aware there might be some mistakes as English isn't my first language so bear with me.

part zero - reading optional, but strongly advised ; part two

Everyone who knew you had assumed you'd take an academic route in your professional life, perhaps becoming a professor or researcher, but something you couldn’t explain had always pulled you toward the darker corners of human behavior.

You weren't satisfied with just understanding the human mind, you wanted to see what happened when it broke.

Now, you were standing still on the elevator on your way to meet Jason Gideon, the legend who had recruited you after being impressed by your sharp mind during a lecture he held at the academy.

Maybe it was because of your passion to philosophy that made you a natural curious person, always asking – sometimes asking way too many – questions, never taking anything for granted.

After that lecture you understood that profiling was a subject that rewarded what many considered to be one of your most annoying flaws. Hence why another reason you probably decide to follow that specific path, out of all the others: you wanted to prove everyone wrong.

What many didn’t see though - and most of the times you didn’t even realise yourself - is that you questioned yourself and your decisions more than anything else. Although for once, trusting more your instincts rather than your reasoning to decide to work at the Bureau, somehow sweetly felt right.

“Y/N, right?” A deep voice cut through your thoughts. You turned to see Gideon standing beside a tall man, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit. His expression appeared stoic, yet his eyes - sharp and calculated - were the most striking feature about him, even more than the smoke coming from his ears as he was focusing all of his energies on you to read through your façade.

As you entered the barely lit bullpen, the weight of the moment hit you. The room was filled with agents, all seasoned professionals busy with their work, pouring over case files, dissecting behavioral patterns, and speaking in hushed tones about suspects and profiles. Their years of experience were palpable, but instead of shrinking, you felt a quiet resolve. You were aware you had something unique to offer - not to be cocky about it - and Gideon clearly thought so too, otherwise you wouldn’t be there.

You were trying your best to be as neutral as possible but you couldn’t deny you immediately felt a wave of adrenaline coursing through you. Knowing you were standing before one most formidable profilers the FBI had ever known and next to him the one you hypothesised to be the Bureau’s next rising star. There wouldn’t be any other plausible reasons for him to stand so close to Gideon otherwise, you thought.

“Yes, sir,” you responded, willing yourself to keep calm. Gideon had introduced you to the mystery man next to him – SSA Aaron Hotchner – or you-can-call-me-Hotch; For a moment you felt so uncool for not having a nickname yourself.

Hotch studied you further for a moment, his face unreadable, but you could tell he was intrigued. His nod was brief, but it felt like a form of acknowledgment.

Gideon smiled warmly. “Good to see you again, Y/N. I’ve been just telling Hotch here about your academic work, very impressive stuff. I’m sure the mix of philosophy, linguistics and psychology will give you quite of a unique lens for profiling.”

“Welcome to the team,” Hotch said simply, though his tone carried weight. With just a sentence he made sure to remind you that you weren’t just another recruit, you were expected to contribute. You hoped his remark would just point out at the overall high expectations everyone had of you, instead of him questioning your presence here due to your young age, less than a week passed from your 21st birthday.

"Thank you," you said, trying to balance out with professionalism. "I’m eager to get started."

Gideon gestured for you to follow him. "Come on, there’s someone else I want you to meet. David Rossi."

Your heart raced. David Rossi, the legend who had co-founded the BAU with the man standing next to you. The picture of you working with him felt surreal. As you, Hotch, and Gideon made your way to Rossi’s office, you could feel Hotch’s eyes still occasionally flicking toward you, still assessing, still quiet. His silence felt deliberate, as though he wanted to see how you carried yourself before making any judgments.

When you entered Rossi’s office, he looked up from his desk, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His presence was formidable, the kind of aura that came from decades of experience. For a brief moment, you felt like he was already profiling you, dissecting every nuance of your appearance and demeanor. Then, his face broke into a bright grin, and he stood, extending his hand.

"So, you’re the philosophy kid," Rossi said, his voice gruff but warm. "Gideon’s been talking your ear off about you."

Philosophy kid, as if you didn’t feel odd enough.

You shook his hand. "That’s me. Nice to meet you, Agent Rossi."

You smiled at that, already feeling some of the tension ebbing away in his presence. There was something about Rossi’s bluntness that was oddly reassuring. He was a man who spoke his mind, no pretense, no games.

"Dave," he corrected, flashing a grin. "‘Agent Rossi’ makes me sound like I could be your nonno. You can call me Dave."

"So, Gideon tells me you speak sixteen languages?" Rossi asked, raising an eyebrow. "How come? Ever consider becoming a spy?"

"Bisnonno" He quickly grinned, you had just entered his office and already flexing your Italian, he teased you first though. "Got it, Dave.". If there would have been one thing you had learnt throughout the brief 2 minutes you’ve been working at the BAU, is that profilers were no joke about their nicknames.

You laughed softly. "I was raised in a bilingual household, I have a thing for languages"

Hotch, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke. "It’ll definitely come in handy in the field. We deal with a lot of international cases."

His voice was calm, measured. Although you had read his file; Hotch wasn’t just any profiler - he was methodical, relentless, and someone who had climbed the ranks through sheer dedication. His seriousness wasn’t arrogance, but a reflection of his deep commitment to the job.

Rossi leaned back slightly, his eyes now flicking over your outfit, your well-fitted total black three-piece suit. “I’ll say, I didn’t expect someone at 21 to show up looking more polished than half of the bureau. You sure you’re not here to give a lecture?”

You chuckled, feeling some of the tension melt away. "This is just my definition of business casual”

Gideon smiled but quickly shifted back to business. “I brought the two of you here in Dave’s office because we just got a tough case” He says gesturing towards you and Hotch “And I want all of us to be working together in on it”.

Rossi laughed, clearly enjoying your response. "Gideon, I think you found someone who might out-dress me."

Normally at the BAU they would either work solo or in pairs, sometimes they would even assest the case from the comfort of their own desk there in Quantico, if travelling was not deemed crucial to build the profile. Only when crime would be particularly complex, they would quicky assemble a team, a small task-force of sorts, take their go-bag with them and travel all across the country struggling more with the train connections rather than with the criminals themselves.

You ironically told yourself that there wouldn’t be a much better start on your new job, your heart raced with anticipation. "What’s the case?" You asked trying to mask the slight feeling of anxiety rushing through your veins.

In a matter of seconds, Gideon quicky exited the office and had already came back firmy holding a bunch of manila folders. He handed you a thick case file, and as you flipped through it, your stomach slightly churned, reminding you this wasn’t these weren’t just pictures on your textbooks.

The unsub had left seven bodies in three states, all bound with intricate knots, posed in ritualistic displays. Each victim had an orchid placed delicately on their chest, and despite the grotesque nature of the crimes, you found there was an eerie beauty in how the unsub treated his victims.

"The knots," Gideon explained, pointing to a photograph. "They’re not random. Each one is different, and each one requires a high level of skill. The unsub is precise, organized, and deliberate. He’s treating these murders like a performance."

These killings to you were manifest of the deeply rooted paradox in human experience - beauty and pain - where both often coexist or follow each other closely. You always found amusing how beauty, whether in art, nature, or human life, often emergeed through struggle or suffering.

You looked closely at the images, analyzing the intricacies of the knots, you feel the need to add something else. "It’s not just performance - it’s communication. The knots are sending a message. He’s not killing out of anger. There’s patience here. He wants control, and the orchids, those suggest he sees the victims as fragile, beautiful objects to be perfected, but ultimately destroyed."

Even historically, humankind tended to these opposites because they reflect the full range of life’s complexities, as joy often emerges from pain, and suffering can heighten the appreciation of beauty. You kept the philosophical monologue to yourself, you definitely didn’t want to reinforce even more the prejudice your teammates could already have on you, the lack of field expertise overly compensated by the knowledge of human nature.

Hotch leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "He’s someone with discipline, military or maybe maritime experience. The variety of knots points to a deeper knowledge of how they work. He’s not just tying them for show. He’s someone who understands the function of every twist and turn."

Rossi smiled at your analysis, clearly impressed. "Not bad. Not bad at all, philosopher. " You now started to suspect Gideon had overly gushed about this particular part of your background as it seemed to be the only thing your new co-workers remembered about you.

You nodded, your mind racing. "And the orchids, they aren’t just decorative. He’s choosing them for a reason. Orchids are notoriously difficult to grow. They’re delicate but require meticulous care, which suggests he sees himself as a cultivator. He picks his victims carefully, like someone choosing a rare flower, and when they don’t live up to his standards, he... prunes them."

The team continued to build the profile, each member adding layers of complexity. The unsub’s background became clearer: someone with a need for control, a perfectionist likely with some connection to floristry or horticulture. You felt a growing sense of camaraderie as you offered ideas and bounced theories off Hotch, who slowly began engaging with you more directly.

“They do act like an old married couple” Hotch hums in a low voice while pointing at Rossi and Gideon vividly arguing far away from the two of you about something you couldn’t grasp yet. You immediately chuckle at the sight, appreciating Hotch’s efforts to bond with you yet still being very reserved and shielding himself through his rare jokes.

A few days into the investigation, you found yourself paired with Hotch all the times, a tactic you knew Gideon pulled just to make you feel the most at ease, despite the overly reserved nature of your partner.

He continued, “See, they might made you think the fraternization rules exist because of Dave, what they didn’t tell you is that he’s probably secretly married with Gideon and apparently the latter today forgot about their anniversary”. You tried your best not to burst into laughing as the Italian man furiously walked towards the two of you, Gideon quick on his feet following him with an apologetic look on his face. Damn, Hotch might have been right, the similarities in the physical language to the scenario he previously mentioned was uncanny.

“The Bureau changed our accommodation, again.” Gideon sighed “They’ll soon send us the address, we have two rooms, two twin beds each, private bathroom” He ironically emphasised the last part, as if he was offering all of you the deal of your life.

“Budget cut again kiddos” Dave announced, oblivious of the reason why both of yours and Hotch's eyes were almost tearing up trying to hold in the laughters.

“Hood rats.” Rossi flamboyantly replied “So here’s another reason to end this case as soon as possible. Figli di puttana, There's no way I'm sleeping more with Jason rather than with my own wife”. Both you and Hotch gave each other a quick mischievous side-eye that could speak more than a thousand words. As the two of them moved away from you and Hotch enough so they wouldn’t hear your next words, you turned towards him. “Dave didn’t even offer us to sleep with him in his room, you actually might have been right all along”.

“I’m always right” He replied showing the dimples on his face.

“Typical lawyer behaviour, gaslighting their way just to be right in their own distorted reality.” You poke fun at him as you reminded he told you he used to work as a persecutor before landing into the Bureau.

Hotch definitely didn’t expect such a quick-witted comeback from you. “I wasn’t aware philosophers knew humor” he teased you.

“We patented it” you smirk.

You and Hotch later surveyed a potential crime scene—a floral shop the unsub had likely visited. As you both examined the area, you could feel Hotch's eyes on you, observing how you worked, how you processed information.

"You’re picking up on a lot for your first case," Hotch said, breaking the silence. "Most people miss the smaller details."

You looked over at him, surprised by the sudden compliment. "Thanks. I guess looking at things in an unorthodox way helps, all the hours spent on Plato apparently paid off"

Hotch nodded. "It shows. Keep it up."

Together, you reviewed the evidence, each of you adding to the emerging profile. You and Hotch began to form a pattern: he’d focus on the precision of the unsub’s actions, while you offered a more abstract perspective, thinking about the emotional motivations behind the crimes.

Later that evening, after a long day of chasing leads and trying to make sense of the tangled web the unsub had woven, you all finally were set into the new accommodation.

Despite Rossi’s earlier complaints about the budget cuts, the place wasn’t that bad - it was modest but clean, with enough space to spread out the case files and work. You and Hotch were indeed been paired up to share a room, as he previously predicted, with two twin beds crammed into a space that would feel much smaller once your notes and case materials were scattered all across the floor.

As soon as you entered the room, Hotch moved with military precision, setting down his go-bag and immediately pulling out a file. He glanced around briefly, as if taking in every detail of the room in a split second, then sat down at the small desk, already deep in thought.

You, on the other hand, sat on the edge of your bed for a moment, looking around and trying to shake off the fatigue that was creeping in. It was only your first case, and yet you felt the pressure building already - both from the weight of the crimes and from wanting to prove yourself in front of someone as formidable as Hotch. Despite the intensity of the case, you couldn’t help but be amused at the situation.

“So, do you believe their honeymoon suite is just as romantic as ours?” You asked with a smirk, hoping to lighten the mood.

Hotch didn’t look up immediately, as if puzzled on how to choose his next words, though you caught the slight twitch of his lips. “Yeah, nothing says romance like crime scene photos and case files scattered everywhere.”

You chuckled and tossed your jacket onto the back of a chair. “I always knew the FBI had a weird way of doing things, but I have to admit this is next level.”

As you pulled out the case file, flipping through the pages and studying the photos, you found it hard to concentrate, mostly because of how quiet the room turned out to become. Hotch was the kind of person whose silence seemed louder than most people’s conversations, and though you could tell he was intensely focused on the case, you sensed that he was also observing you – amazed at how it was the first time he ever saw someone overworking themselves as much as he did.

Breaking the silence, you threw a glance at him. “You ever wonder what makes someone do this? I mean, it’s one thing to read about it in a textbook, but seeing it in person…”

Hotch set his pen down and leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. “Every time. You get used to it, but it never really stops affecting you.”

You nodded, taking that in. “It’s just so… deliberate. Every little detail, like the knots, the orchids, it’s like he’s creating something, not just destroying.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly impressed by your analysis. “That’s an interesting perspective. Most people would only see the destruction.”

“You know,” you said, leaning back on the bed, wanting to return the subtle compliment “when I first joined the academy, I never thought I’d end up here, sitting in a hotel room with one of the newest best profilers in the country.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Flattery, huh? Didn’t think philosophers believed in that.”

You grinned. “We don’t, but I make exceptions.”

He gave you another small smile, his guard dropping just a little. “Well, I didn’t expect to be working with a 21-year-old who can hold their own on a case like this.”

“I’ve got to keep up with all of you somehow.”

Hotch shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re doing more than keeping up, but I’ve already told you this.”

The next morning, while poring over the case, both you and Hotch hit on the idea that the unsub might escalate soon. "He’s been meticulous so far, but there’s a growing desperation in the pattern," you observed. "He’s becoming bolder with each kill, taking greater risks. If he feels like he’s not getting the recognition he craves, he might go after a more high-profile victim."

Hotch considered this, his brow furrowing. "Someone in the public eye. He’d want an audience for his ‘art.’ We should look into upcoming events where he might strike."

Later, Gideon walked into the room with a look that told you something big had just clicked into place. "We’ve got a break," he said, laying down a new set of photographs. They were taken at a local orchid show, a high-profile event that had been held recently. "We missed it before because the show was a private event, members only. But one of the attendees matched the profile. His name is Matthew Carson, a former Navy sailor turned horticulturist."

You leaned over the photos, seeing the man for the first time. Carson was in his mid-thirties, tall, with an air of quiet control about him. "That explains the knots," you said. "He would’ve learned that skill in the Navy. And the flowers - he’s obsessed with perfection, cultivating these delicate orchids. It fits with how he views his victims."

Hotch nodded, already processing the next steps. "We need to move fast. He’s going to escalate, and the orchid show gives him an audience: a high-profile victim pool. He’ll want to make his statement soon."

The team sprang into action, coordinating with local authorities to track Carson down. You, Hotch, Rossi, and Gideon prepared to approach his house, a sprawling property on the outskirts of town, where Carson ran his own private orchid nursery.

As the team closed in, your heart pounded with anticipation. Carson’s house was an eerie reflection of his mind: immaculate, but with an unsettling coldness, orchids lined the windowsills and filled every room with their fragile beauty. It was a place of quiet obsession.

Rossi was the first to spot Carson. The man was in the greenhouse, meticulously pruning an orchid, completely unaware of the FBI’s presence. Hotch signaled for you to stay back as he and Rossi approached cautiously.

"Matthew Carson," Hotch called, his voice steady but firm.

Carson didn’t flinch. He continued trimming the orchid as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "You don’t understand," he said quietly, his voice calm but laced with underlying madness. "It’s about perfection. I’m creating something beautiful."

Hotch took a step closer. "You’re hurting people, Matthew. This isn’t beauty, it’s destruction."

Carson finally looked up, his eyes hollow yet intense. "They weren’t good enough. The flowers... they have to be perfect."

You could feel the tension in the air while Hotch was doing what he did best, calmly, methodically drawing Carson out, understanding his twisted mind.

"They’re not flowers, Matthew. They’re people," You said as Hotch took another step closer. You continued "You’re not creating beauty. You’re trying to control what you can’t, but perfection doesn’t exist."

Carson’s grip tightened on the shears in his hand, his knuckles turning white. "I can make it exist," he whispered.

Before he could act, Rossi moved swiftly, disarming Carson and pinning him to the ground, he struggled briefly but then went limp, as if the fight had left him entirely. The unsub’s calm shattered, and in that moment, you saw the deep fragility that had driven his madness.

"You think you understand, but you don’t," Carson muttered as he was handcuffed. "I was so close."

As Gideon secured Carson, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The case was over, but the weight of it still lingered but before you could start overthinking, you felt a hand on top of your left shoulder. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly turn around to what revealed to be Hotch “Good job on the case, partner” You shyly smile “Not so bad as your first case at all”

“I could say the same about you, especially on the way you handled Carson, but I bet someone like you is used to the myriad of compliments at this point.”

He rolled his eyes, then quickly moved towards Rossi before you could notice the smile tugged on his face - too late – you could see his dimples still showing even when he was far away from you.

Later, on the train ride back to Quantico, you and Hotch found yourselves sitting across from each other. The case had drained everyone, you glanced at Hotch, who was staring out the window, lost in thought.

"So," you said, breaking the silence, curious to know something real about the man you shared a room with for the past two days "now that the case is over, are you going to admit that you do something other than work? Or is profiling literally your only hobby?"

Hotch turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," you said with a grin, "You must have to do something outside of this. You can't just spend all your downtime preparing for the next criminal mastermind, or developing conspiracy theories" His eyes went to his side, inviting you to glance at the older profilers. Rossi was conveniently standing up from his seat and leaning in front of Gideon, showing him something on a case file while simultaneously tracing small circles with the back of his pen on the papers the other was holding.

He gave you small smirk, his eyes twinkling with just a hint of mischief, then out of the blue he blurts out “I play the guitar."

You blinked, caught off guard. "You play the guitar?! Seriously?"

Hotch nodded, his expression casual, though you could tell he was enjoying your surprise. "Yeah. It’s something I picked up in college. Helps me unwind."

"Wait, wait, wait," you said, holding up a hand. "Aaron Hotchner, stoic, no-nonsense FBI agent extraordinaire, plays the guitar? I need proof. This sounds like a bluff."

He chuckled, the sound rare but genuine. "I don’t think I need to prove anything to you."

You leaned back in your seat, resting one hand on your forehead. "Unbelievable. I was so sure you didn’t have a hobby. I mean, by the way you work, I was starting to think someone else in the Bureau was keeping another big secret from us, C3-PO"

The unexpected Star Wars reference earned you a genuine laugh from him, then shook his head, a small smile still playing on his lips. "Just because I’m focused on the job doesn’t mean I don’t have other interests."

"Okay, fair enough," you admitted. "But now I’m really curious. What kind of music do you play? Classical? Rock? Please tell me it’s something totally unexpected, like heavy metal."

He laughed again, a sound you were quickly becoming fond of. "Mostly blues, actually."

You stared at him, wide-eyed. "Blues? Wow, that’s... I don’t know, I guess I expected you to say something like jazz or folk, but blues? That’s kind of badass."

Hotch gave a modest shrug. "It’s calming. Helps me think."

"I’m still wrapping my head around this," you said with a smirk. "I’m going to need to hear you play one day. Otherwise, I’m sticking with my theory that you’re secretly a robot who plays FBI agent."

He gave you a side-eye but couldn’t suppress his smile. "I’ll think about it, maybe after the next case if you’re still around"

You pretended to be offended by his words "Is this a threat?!”

“I was just trying to be encouraging”

Maybe working at the BAU wouldn’t be as intimidating as you first thought after all.

As the train rumbled on, you felt a sense of camaraderie with Hotch, a shared respect that had grown over the course of the case. You had proven yourself, and in return, he had let you see a side of him that few people probably ever did.

[retroellie]

The Other Woman

Summary: After seeing Lila kiss spencer in the pool, all reason leaves your body and creates a jealous mess inside your head. You can thing of only one way to dull the ache of jealousy.

A/N: This lowkey sucks but it's whatever :) I'm so unmotivated and my writers block is terrible omfg. I hope y'all enjoy though <3

Warnings: NSFW, cheating(ish), L*la, Mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected sex, unexperienced spencer, normal Criminal Minds stuff

Word count: 7.6K

Of course, you knew you were acting like a teenage girl, the petty silent treatment was straight of a high school romance. Reid was just trying to do his job, he was told to do something, and he did it. So, you shouldn't be angry. He was trying to prevent another victim; he was trying to protect Lila. Fucking Lila. If it were anyone else, then maybe you would just be able to forget it, but it wasn't someone else. It was her. It was hot blonde, breakout movie star Lila. Her and her perfect body, pretty face, long legs, her beautiful smile, and her money. She was everything a man could want, so what stopped Reid from wanting it too?

It made you uncomfortable in the first place, him being the one to stay with her. You asked Gideon if maybe Elle could do it or even Hotch, but he said since Lila and Spencer were somewhat friends, it would make her more comfortable. But what about you? What about your comfort? You decided to leave your pettiness out of your work, keep your jealousy to yourself, and catch the stalker so you could get out of here, go back to your stupid life with Reid.

You were already feeling sick enough about the entire thing, she could steal Reid from you in a heartbeat and all you could do was let her... But seeing him in the pool with her, her only in a bathing suit and him soaking wet. It played with your heartstrings, wondering everything that could've happened. Spencer couldn't look you in the eye, even after you asked him if he was okay. He just let out a small hum, looking down at his gun while he tried to dry it off. You knew something had happened; did you even want to know? You asked yourself.

You had no choice since Morgan shoved the camera in your face. The pictures of Lila and Spencer, her lips on his. 'Of course, she looked pretty when she hungrily made out with someone' you thought, rolling your eyes mentally. Spencer just watched your face, as it contorted into an unknown expression to him. He was a profiler, yet he could never read you...you were completely foreign to him. It intrigued him when he first met you, it frustrated him. Spencer Reid was a genius, he knew everything. So, him not knowing your brain frustrated him. That's exactly why he fell in love with you, he had to work to understand you and he ended up falling in love with you trying to figure you out.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain himself, but you dismissed it by explaining how you didn't think that the man who took the photos was the unsub. You explain how "he was too cocky and too visible; the unsub would have been more careful than the trespassing paparazzi." You did have a new lead however and you didn't hesitate before you ran off to go follow it. You just wanted to get away from Spencer, you needed to be away from him. You should have heard him out, you would've heard him out but as said before... It was Lila. Girls like her always got what they wanted; they didn't even have to fight for it either. So, you knew how this went, Spencer would leave you for her and you would have to work with him for the rest of your life knowing... you allowed him to be stolen.

You eventually caught the unsub, well Spencer did. It was one of Lila's friends, Maggie. She was desperately in love with Lila but Lila wasn't in love with her back, she killed her victims to show her love for Lila. You somehow understood how she felt as fucked up as it sounds. You understand why people kill for the people they love, how they would do anything just for the person they love. You could see yourself doing that for Spencer, it scared you of what you were willing to do for him. After Maggie had been caught, Hotch told the team to meet back at the local police departments to make their reports. However, you headed back to the hotel, stating that you had fallen sick to Hotch. Obviously hotch knew, he wasn't stupid and he didn't need to be a profiler to know what you were feeling. You were hurt.

So here you are now, in your hotel room... alone. You were writing your reports for other cases, completely neglecting the Lila case. In the state you were in, you couldn't even think of a blonde woman without the heartbreak sensation creeping up again. You hoped to do other cases, the most gruesome cases... The cases with blood and guts would help make that feeling go away or at least dissolve the lump in your throat. You felt like you were 16 again, watching as your prom date went into the bathroom with the popular girl. Your stomach sank as you saw him holding onto her hand, leading him into the biggest stall... all you could do was watch. You suddenly felt every stitch of your dress, all your organs working together, every light molecule on your skin. It was hell.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door, your heart dropping as it did. You would think of years of profiling psychopaths, you would be able to handle a knock at the door. For some reason that knock was the scariest thing to you. You sighed softly, putting the paperwork that was sprawled out on the hotel bed to the side and throwing yourself over the side of the bed. You walked to the door, the cold air of the hotel room making you shiver. Your hand touched the cold doorknob, pulling the door open and seeing a figure. Your eyes adjusted and soon you were met with his brown ones.

"Hi..." He said, giving you a soft smile.

"Hi." You said coldly.

It was an awkward encounter for sure, something that happens often but it's more comfortable than this. As of now, all you could think about was Spencer's face smashed up against hers. You were now hyper-aware of everything around you, feeling as though you could hear the colors making up the room. Spencer just stood there, hands in his pockets and giving you that strange grin.

"You weren't at the police station... Hotch told me you were feeling sick." He started, trying to pick up a conversation but for the first time since you met Spencer Reid... he was at a loss for words.

You nodded, confirming Hotch's statement. You could tell what he wanted to ask, so desperately. You were a profiler, you could tell by his fidgeting hand, his eye twitch, the way he couldn't make eye contact with you for more than 4 seconds... He was holding himself back. Spencer knew he did wrong, very wrong. Not only with you but professionally. You're not supposed to kiss a civilian you are told to keep watch on as a federal agent. It's inappropriate and wrong... but Reid could care less about that fact, the kiss meant nothing to him. He was more worried about you. You hadn't talked to him since you saw him in the pool with Lila, you didn't tell him you were going back to the hotel, you didn't even kiss him goodbye before you left Lilas. You bit your lip softly, playing with the flesh as you looked down at your feet.

"Uh yeah..." You started, looking back up at him. "Must have eaten something bad or something..."

Spencer didn't believe you, not for a second. He was never good with social cues but at this moment, he could read the situation better than anyone. However, Spencer has never been in a relationship before... you were his first everything. He'd never been exposed to the petty drama that comes with having a girlfriend, so he wasn't too sure how to go with this conversation. He knew he did wrong, but how does he go about communicating that with you? He doesn't want to make it seem like you're overreacting or you are stupid for being mad... damn, maybe he's overthinking it now. If Spencer Reid is good at anything though, it's statistics.

"You know..." He starts, about to go on one of his Reid rants. "Statistically, 58% of the time people don't actually have anything wrong with their stomach. Mostly it's more psychological than it is physical. Mostly caused by anxiety, guilt or anger."

You were used to these Reid rants at this point. Being with Spencer Reid for 2 years and knowing him for even longer, you have a lot of useless information in your brain that he has nonconsensually given you. You let that information sink into the part of your brain that you will most likely not return to, not even going to attempt to comprehend what number he had just given you. Your face automatically contorted itself into a look that said "Please shut up, leave me alone, and never perceive me again.".

"You think I'm lying?" You ask, not sure whether you're actually offended or it's because you can't get the picture of her kissing him out of your head.

It wasn't Spencer's intention to make you upset, no... that's not why he came here. He just knew that it was deeper than a stomach ache, he knew that your mind was going wild with possibilities and him knowing you, he knew you wouldn't say anything about it. Spencer knew why you did the work you did, he knew you couldn't solve your own problems so you decided to solve others. That's why Spencer didn't wait for you to come to him because he knew you never would. Spencer shook his head eagerly.

"No! no... of course not." He blurted out, looking everywhere but your eyes. "I'm just saying that i think the stomach ache your feeling isn't really a stomach ache... maybe it has something to do with the thing that happened with me and Lila."

The sound of her name sliding off his tongue sounded so frictionless... so effortless. It made you wonder if your name sounded the same, suddenly you forgot what your name sounded like coming out of his mouth. You shook that feeling off real quick, hoping if you pushed it down far enough it would simply go away. You weren't stupid though, you knew what pushing things down would do. It would turn you into something not human, or maybe something that is between a human and something else... it would turn you into Maggie or maybe even the hundreds of people you catch a year. It's funny how you can figure out another person's shit so fast, yet you are still wondering what your shit even is.

You sigh softly, rolling your eyes as you step away from the door and making your way to the small hotel "kitchen". The only thing the kitchen was good for was making coffee or tea, something that you have been living on for the past couple of years. You've found yourself purposely making it bad, the BAU will ruin you like that. You poured yourself some coffee, hearing Spencer walk in and shut the door behind him.

"Or maybe I just have a stomach ache." You say softly, putting the coffee pot back and then pouring pounds of sugar into your coffee. "Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore. The unsub was caught, Lilas safe... we did our job."

Spencer bites his lip nervously, watching you bring your coffee up to your lips and take a swig. As said before, Spencer isn't good with relationships or girls... or really anything that isn't statistics and books, so he isn't sure how to tell you that he is worried about you. He likes you, he'd probably go as far as to say he loves you and he doesn't want this to end. He knows that this will not end well, that your bottled-up emotions will be the end of your relationship. Spencer notices all the case reports scattered over your bed, seeing how you haven't even started on the most recent one... lilas.

"I read in one of my books about human relationships that most relationships end due to no com..." He starts, being interrupted by your tired, jealous self.

"Please, Spencer! enough with the statistics..." You spit, almost yelling... something you've never done to read. You turn to face him, coffee cup still in your hand, burning your skin. "Just spit out what you're trying to say to me."

Spencer gulps slightly, seeing how angry you've already become and you've only bottled this much hatred for less than a day. He knows you don't mean to yell, he knows it. He knows this job does this to a person, makes them angry... messes with their head until they are only a shell of themselves. Spencer adjusts himself, not sure what he is going to say but his plan is just to speak... hoping that the words will form as he does so. He licks his lips, taking in a breath and facing you finally.

"What happened between me and Lila..." He paused, gathering all the courage and breath he had left in this moment. "It meant nothing. I mean yeah we kissed, I mean she kissed me. I told her I had a girlfriend, multiple times. She still did it and I was shocked that I let it happen... but I felt nothing. I swear. And I know you don't want to talk about it, it's uncomfortable and it hurts you too, but I want to talk about it because it hurts me when I think it hurts you. This job can take whatever it wants from me... but I can't live with myself if I let it take you from me." He rambles out.

His breath gets heavy, all the oxygen from his lungs being taken from that single rant. He could've gone on, he wanted to go on but the look on your face made him stop. You looked even more hurt... or did you look relieved... Spencer couldn't tell, you were too hard to read for him. You couldn't explain the feeling either, it was a mix of everything. It was a mix of guilt and content... but most importantly, lust. The ramble had your face heating up and your underwear dampening. You shouldn't be feeling this way at this moment, no... not when your poor boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. but the way his voice was whiny... the way he begged for you, the way his face was now flush... How could you not?

You set your coffee cup down, making your way over to his tall figure. His breathing stopped almost as he could feel your presence getting closer to him, he'd never felt this uneasy in your presence but in this moment, he was afraid of what your next move would be. You were now face to face with Spencer, looking up at him with doe eyes as you watched him nervously fidget with his bottom lip. This feeling you felt was not new, it was something you felt for Spencer when he did pretty much anything. The deep fire that sparked within your stomach was always there when around him, something you were able to control and others... Well, you had to strip him down right then. However, you had never felt this feeling be so potent, so overwhelmingly rich.

"You really mean it?" You said simply, wanting nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you more than you wanted him. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he nervously stood in front of you.

"Yes...I really mean it Y/N." He admitted, his voice laced with desperation. He just wanted his girlfriend, that's all he's ever wanted.

You grin softly, eyes slightly watering as you hear his confession. You knew that Spencer would do anything for you, anything. But hearing it... hearing it gave you a sudden power rush. It made your hands shake, complete dominance running through your body. Your grin caused Spencer to relax, knowing that maybe there was a chance you could forgive him. Your hand snaked its way up to his tie, playing with it. Spencer watched this action, and the sudden realization of how you were feeling crept up on his mind. You weren't the one for punishments, you believed sex should be something that is for praising the other... not punishing. However, the mere thought of you punishing Spencer made both of you weak in the knees.

"i want to believe you, Spence..." You spoke your voice slightly over a whisper. Your hands are still rubbing the soft fabric of his tie between your fingers, flicking your eyes back up to his. "But I can't when you're using that mouth to make excuses...."

You smile up at him innocently, as if you weren't teasing him. Spencer gulped down a whimper, your voice almost having him bust in his pants all ready. You yanked him down to your level by his tie, tugging on it roughly as you forced him to make eye contact with you. You took your free hand to push his hair back from his face, watching his tie rub roughly against his neck. You took your hand, leaving light touches all over his face... tracing every bump, every mole, every scar across his face. You thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, but so did Lila.

"What can I do..." He started, pausing his sentence as he basked in your soft touches. "to uh... to make you believe me?"

You let out a chuckle, your finger pulling down his lip and then letting it bounce back up. You bit your lip, trying to keep your dominant persona up, but something about the way he was so desperate to please you... the fire burned hotter deep within you.

"I can't tell you... guess you just have to know." You stated. You wanted to keep him on edge, make him more desperate than he already was.

Spencer moaned softly as your grip on his tie tightened, his air getting restricted now but he felt... oddly good. You two were new to having sex at this point, Spencer had just given his virginity to you not even 2 months ago. Yet you both have had sex so often that you both knew each other's bodies inside and out already. He didn't know what he liked or what he wanted, all he knew was he wanted you and only you for the rest of his existence. Spencer couldn't help himself anymore, he smashed his lips into yours. The kiss was full of desperation, his hands making their way into your hair, sometimes pulling but mostly he used it to keep you in place.

It was messy and very sloppy, it was like a normal makeout session for you. Spencer couldn't help himself but to be messy with you, he wanted so much of you that it made him claw at your skin. You didn't mind it, you let him explore your mouth with only his tongue because you fed on his desperation. Your hands made it up to his cheeks, pressing his mouth even closer to you. Your teeth clashed with his, tongues fighting with each other, squirming against each other. You both could have stayed like this for hours, probably coming undone just by kissing but you wanted more.

"Spencer..." You moaned out, pulling him away from you slightly. You looked up at him, the desperation in his eyes to keep going. His lips were kiss-bitten, his cheeks red and his eyes wet. He whimpered at the loss of your lips, breathing heavily as you examined his face. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

Your voice was demanding, causing Spencer to jump to what you wanted him to do. You watched him eagerly take off his shirt, his tie getting stuck and frustrating him. Then he worked his way down to his pants, taking off his shoes while he was at it. He left his boxers on, knowing that you would soon take them off anyway. He sat on the bed, waiting patiently for you, feeling your eyes bore into his skin. Spencer had a strange build, skinny and lanky but his muscles were defined. You would basically drool every time you saw it, the first time you ever saw him naked you swear you came just by the view.

"Good boy..." You said, walking over to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You set yourself on his lap, straddling him as you watched his face turn redder than it already had been. "I have been so good to you haven't I Spencer?"

You sat down on his lap, feeling his cock rock hard against the inside of your thigh. You moved his hair from his face, his hair still reeked of chlorine which created another wave of deep jealousy. Spencer nodded rapidly, his words getting stuck into his throat as you watched his face for an answer. You grinned softly, nodding with him as he let out a little hum.

"Yeah..." You started, feeling his body shake with anticipation. You leaned down, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks as you ground down softly on him. "I let you cum when you want to, let you cum inside me, I suck your dick whenever and wherever I put up with your begging and call you a good boy..."

Spencer moans softly at your words, his hands making their way to your hips as he tries to grind you down harder on his cock. His senses are already being clouded with complete lust, his need to cum is at a peak already. You chuckle down at him, his pathetic moans already filling the room and you have not even started. You trail your kisses to his mouth, forcing the kiss to be softer this time but his lips want more.

"I mean even when I should have slammed the door in your face..." You snap your hips down harshly, watching him moan out loudly. "Here I am, still calling you a good boy."

Although Spencer's moans create a softness inside of you, wanting nothing more than to let him come undone as you praise him, the deep jealousy that has been lingering in the room is creating something inhumane inside of you. You wanted to make him cry, wanted to crave insults into his skin, wanted to push him to the brink, and then take it all away from him. It's how he made you feel, seeing him in that pool with someone like Lila. even if he didn't even mean to. You knew Spencer didn't want Lila to kiss him, part of you knew that and you wanted to slap her for even putting Spencer into that position. However, you could use this anger and jealousy in a good way, a punishment that would leave Spencer feeling like he went to heaven and back.

"y/n... god..." Spencer moaned out, grinding his hips up to meet yours. You grinned softly, moving your hand from his cheek down to his neck.

His neck was already slightly red from his tie, the soft bruise already peeking through. It looked down pretty on his skin, he looked so pretty broken down. You wrapped your hand softly around his neck, setting one last kiss to his lips before you slammed him down on the bed. He gasped softly, breathing heavily as your actions scared him. He was flat on his back now, looking up at you as you straddled his hips. You could feel him throb against your thigh, his cock wanting to free him.

You took the hand wrapped around his neck, trailing it down his chest, down his belly, down his happy trail, pulling his underwear down so only his cock could spring free. You tsked softly, looking down at him as he squirmed. His cock was flush red, dripping precum as it screamed to be touched. It never failed to amaze you just how flustered and hard you could make Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius, the boy wonder.... pretty boy. You weren't exactly what you would assume his type would be, not that you weren't attractive but completely different from Spencer Reid.

You two were like night and day, favoring different things yet being made for each other. Sometimes you would get insecure about it, especially when you two were very public about your relationship. How could someone who knew exactly what they were doing be with someone like you? You thought, sometimes it kept you up at night. How someone like Spencer could be with you, how he could look at you and see only beauty. It freaked you out to say the least and maybe that's why the two of you were in the position in the first place, your insecurities getting the best of you.

"So needy already... I've barely touched you." You tease, biting your lip at the sight of him.

You set your hand on his cock, leaving feather-light touches to it as he squirmed more. You gripped it lazily, moving your hand up and down his cock. Your free hand began unbuttoning your dress pants, zipping them down, and yanking them off your body. You teased Spencer about being the eager one, but you couldn't handle much more of him not being inside you. Spencer threw his head back as you continued to stroke his cock at a slow pace, his eyes shut tight as he was already on the verge of cumming.

"That feel good honey?" You asked him, sure that he wasn't going to be able to answer you. "feels so warm... so wet..." You teased, drawing out your words to push his buttons even more.

You leaned down, hand still pumping his cock as you started leaving soft kissing along his neck, something you knew he loved dearly. Your hand movements were sloppy now, encouraging him to grind his hips into your hand. His thrusts were sporadic, no real rhythm as he was so clouded with the thought of cumming in your hand.

"Feel so... feel so good..." He moaned out, his mind not allowing him to think of a coherent sentence.

That was all you needed to know that he was close, that in the next seconds, he was going to make a mess out of your hand. You pumped him a few more times, watching as his body shook slightly. But then as his orgasm almost washed over him... you pulled your hand away. He whimpered softly, eyes filling with tears as his overstimulated and teased cock throbbed. Spencer had never felt this pathetic, just like you said, you let Spencer cum whenever he wanted to. So you helping him to the edge just to take it away in mere seconds, made this boy into a whiny mess. He would even go as far as to say you spoiled him, always allowing him to make his messes anywhere and everywhere.

"What... why.." He stuttered, not sure what to say but he felt he had been robbed of a mindblowing orgasm. His pouting made you smile, seeing how worked up and ashamed he had become.

"Awe, I'm so sorry baby..." You teased, kissing his neck softly as he desperately tried to feel for your lips with his. "But only good boys get to cum..."

Spencer bucked his hips up into nothing, his stolen orgasm making his stomach ache. Spencer would do anything, anything... just for you to let him cum. He would beg and plead for it, he would murder for it. The mere thought of Spencer willing to do anything just for your hand, sent your body into overdrive, the power rush taking over your own senses until it felt you could only be satisfied by seeing Spencer cry. Spencer huffed and puffed roughly as you continued to lay your kisses on his neck, knowing how weak it made him. His breathing was irregular and it felt as though with every struggling breath, his air was being stolen from him.

"Fuck... please..." He whimpered out, his hands reaching up to your hips once more trying to grind your body against the aching cock. "I'm sorry okay... fuck... I'm so sorry, I'll do anything... I'll be such a good boy for you, just please... fuck please Mommy!"

The word stumped you and took you completely off guard. Spencer was very new to sex and you were new to sex with him, but Mommy?!? You would've never guessed Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, you should've known simply because it was clear. Spencer Reid has mommy issues, so seeing you as dominant during sex was basically a given, you're a profiler for god sake. You stopped your soft kisses on his neck, bringing your head up to see his horrified reaction to his words.

He was taken aback as well, those words feeling so wrong coming out of his mouth but yet so arousing to him. He always felt the need to hold back the word when you guys had sex, out of fear and him being ashamed. He knew he was safe with you, but something about a grown man calling his lover mommy felt inappropriate to him. It might be his denial or him being sexually insecure, but it just felt weird to him so the only word on his tongue at that moment was "sorry". little did he know though, the word slipping from his mouth did wonders on you. Your face heated up, your cunt wetter than ever, and your urge to cum at a peak.

"I'm so sorry... that was really weird, I'm so..." He started but was rudely interrupted by a very annoyed you.

"Spencer... it's fine, you worry too much." You giggled, trying to reassure him that you were more than okay with his surprising kink. You leaned down once more, pecking his lips with yours to hopefully put him at ease. He eagerly kissed you back, once again pulling you into a sloppy kiss. "How about you show Mommy what you can do with that mouth huh?" You said in between kisses.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the possibility of how this night would end filling his brain. The shame he felt now was turning into something else, something enjoyable as you teased him about it. He nodded his head, agreeing to whatever you wanted him to do. You smirked, pulling your panties to the side and climbing up his body. Spencer wasn't sure what you were doing, never having been in this position before but his confusion was taken over by pure hunger when being face to face with your cunt.

"If it gets too much or you want to stop, tell me, okay honey?" You stated, looking down at him, his face already slick with your juices. He nodded, looking up at you with eyes that begged you to sit on his face.

You nodded back, getting yourself comfortable before lowering yourself down onto Spencer's face. He knew what to do almost immediately, licking your clit and nuzzling his nose straight into your cunt. Like everything Spencer when it came to sex, it was sloppy and eager. There was no real pace, just Spencer going crazy on your cunt. You couldn't help but rock your hips back and forth slightly, completely forgetting how good Spencer's tongue felt.

Spencer eating you out was no new thing, it happened quite often. He preferred when you two would use your tongues and fingers to pleasure each other. It felt more intimate to him and if he was being completely honest, he felt he was better with them than he was with his dick. He felt he had more control over you when he used his tongue, not to mention when you would touch him he would quite literally forget everything especially how to move his body. So eating you out made him feel more in control and in a career where he was always fighting for control, it was a nice change. Although this position you were in now, sitting on his face, was foreign to him, but he liked it.

You were starting to feel that coil inside you tighten, the sign that you were about to cum all over his face. You gripped the sheets, now moving your hips roughly to the movements of his tongue. Spencer had started sucking softly on your clit before teasing your opening with his tongue, he couldn't pick which he wanted to do so he tried to do both. For a minute there Spencer forgot he even had hands, his mind only on lapping at your cunt and tasting your juices flowing down his tongue.

"Spencer... fuck..." You moaned out, throwing your head back as you tried your best to stay upright. "remember your hands..." You directed him.

Spencer mentally scolded himself for that, knowing that in the past you scolded him for not using his hands. Spencer couldn't help it though, he wanted to taste all of you and his hands were the last thing he was worried about. Spencer brought one of his hands up to meet your cunt, digging his fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers exploring inside you had you grabbing at his hair, holding his face in place as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. Your movements only egged Spencer on, his fingers curling up to feel for your g-stop and his mouth latching onto your clit.

You were now the one who was a whimpering mess, curses fell from your lips and your hips forced themselves down onto Spencer. You were close, feeling that the coil became more tight as your back arched. Your thighs began to shake, your vision blurry as Spencer finally found your g-spot. It only took him only 3 curls of his fingers before that coil snapped.

"FUCK!" You screamed out, not surprised if the hotel heard you.

Spencer licked and pumped you through your orgasm, something you taught him how to do. You can remember the first time he had ever eaten you out, as soon as your cunt oozed out your juices... Spencer got scared that he had done something wrong, completely stopping his movements and cutting your orgasm short. You taught him that it was a good sign and what he should do while it was happening. You were proud to say that you taught Spencer right, you were the one who taught him how to please a woman... Can Lila say the same?

You hunched over on top of Spencer, shaking slightly as you recovered from your orgasm. Spencer slid his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth as he licked them clean. You watched as he did, the sight alone creating a new wave of horniness over your body. He wanted every little speck of you, wanting to taste everything you had and he would gladly enjoy it. You shifted yourself down Spencer's body, once again straddling his hips.

"Was I a good mommy?" He asked innocently, his voice almost a whimper. He looked innocent as ever, even with his face soaked with your cum, he just looked so heavenly. You placed your hand on his cheek, wiping off the mess you had created.

"So good my love..." You whispered, watching his face turn a bright red once more. The words "my love" echoing in his ears, making his cock throb more. "How about mommy take care of you now huh?"

Your words rushed straight to Spencer's cock, forcing himself not to cum just from your words. Spencer nodded, breathing heavily as you pecked his lips with yours. You could taste your own cum on his lips along with spencers cherry chapstick that he always seems to be wearing. You let Spencer explore your mouth once more, taking what he needed from you as you once again wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it up with yourself. Spencer bucked up to meet your hips, being the greedy little bastard he was and wanting to thrust himself into you. You chuckled at his neediness but gave into his wishes, slowly setting yourself down onto him.

"Fuc..." Spencer whined out, throwing his head back in bliss.

You didn't know what happened at first, thinking that maybe Spencer was just that excited to be inside you once again. Then you felt it, his hot cum coating your walls already. You hadn't even put him all inside you and he had already come. Spencer's face contorted into pure pleasure, nails digging into your hips as he drenched your insides with cum. He was too in the clouds to realize what he had just done, it hit him too suddenly and way too hard for him to think. but eventually, he came down and sudden embarrassment ran cold through his body.

"Shit... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just h..." He started, rapidly trying to apologize for cumming so early even if it wasn't under his control. His apologies got cut off by you fully sitting down on his cock, his cock now nestled deep inside of you.

Spencer once again through his head back, his words fading into whimpers and whining. You smiled at his reaction, your cunt feeling his dick get hard once more. Spencer never knew that he would be in this position tonight or really ever. He never knew in a hundred years he would be deep inside his coworker, a babbling mess underneath her, and basically prematurely ejaculate inside of her. but somehow this is where Spencer feels he wants to be, maybe not the cumming so soon part but being underneath you.

"No need to apologize Spence..." You moan out, shifting your hips slightly. You bring your hands up to your shirt and slowly work your way down the buttons. "You deserved to cum in mommy, you did so good with your mouth."

You yank your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra Spencer had bought you days before. Spencer's breath hitched, his memory of buying that in the first place coming back. He was at the store, buying whatever he needed for that night when he accidentally stumbled into the women's undergarments section. He attempted to cover his eyes, but for some reason, they kept landing on the black lacy bra you had right now. It was embarrassing for him to be buying it, going to the checkout, and praying the cashier didn't even think twice about it, it didn't help that the image of you in it had him rock hard.

You bucked your hips softly, feeling every single inch of Spencer nuzzling inside of you. You watched his eyes, seeing how they planted on your boobs. You chuckled softly, reaching your hands to him that were sitting on your hips and bringing them up. You placed his hands on your breast, knowing that Spencer would be too shy to do it himself. You held his hands there, feeling his hands squeeze them gently as you did.

"I wanna..." You start, being interrupted by a soft moan that escapes your mouth as Spencer starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. "I wanna make you do it again... i want you to cum in me again..."

That is all Spencer needed to hear, his stomach already creating a tight coil that could break at any moment. Your thrust was starting to pick up, his cock being pulled almost completely out of you before you slammed your hips back down to push him all the way into you. With Spencer's cock deep inside you and his hands squeezing your tits roughly, you felt you had died and went straight to heaven, or was this hell? Because you doubted you could find sex like this in heaven, this was dirty and sinful. The curses dripping from each of your mouths and spencers moans that sounded like something straight of a porno filled the room and most likely the entire floor of the hotel.

You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, hunching over Spencer as your hips continued to thrust roughly. Spencer moved his hands back to your hips for the hundredth time tonight, helping you thrust his cock inside of you. You were both overstimulated, your clit sending shocks of electricity through your body every time it made contact with Spencer's lower stomach. The coil inside you threatened to burst, frustration filled you as you tried desperately to bust it open and make more of a mess than it already had been. You reached down in between your legs, rubbing the small bud and sending lightning through your body.

"Fuck... gonna cum...gonna cum on your cock..." You moaned out, stuttering every time Spencer's cock filled you up.

Spencer took that as a sign to thrust harder back into you, moving his hips up and forcing your hips down. You were on the edge, every single inch of your body on fire as you fucked yourself onto Spencer. and with one single hard, deep thrust from Spencer... the coil in you snapped once again. You shoved your face into the sheet next to Spencer's head, screaming into them as you came all over Spencer's cock. You felt this feeling couldn't get any better until you felt Spencer's hot cum flow through you once again.

You were too in your own world to even hear Spencer's loud scream/moan he did as he came deep inside you, you both being thrown out of your own bodies as you came. Your juices flow together to make one big mess out of the sheets, something that will be embarrassing for the housekeepers to clean in the morning. You both laid there for a minute, basking in each other's warmth and feeling spencers cum seep out of your cunt.

It was strange to you, how you would much rather Spencer's cum dripping out of you than... well anything in life. You weren't exactly the most sex-driven person, but at this moment you knew why some people were. Spencer somehow got into your head, planting himself into it and keeping it hostage. With that being said, you couldn't stay mad at Spencer, you honestly completely forgot why you had been pushing him in the first place. The name Lila is so far away from your thoughts, that you don't actually care anymore.

You slid Spencer out of you with a wince, flopping down next to him as he came down from his high. You shifted to your side so you could watch his pretty face, his eyes fluttering open, his mouth trying to steal whatever air he could get... He looked blissful. You felt oddly proud about it, knowing that you were the one to do that. However, through the pride, you felt a deep guilt. Spencer was the kindest boy you have ever met, he chose you to give his heart to. Yet you were upset with him because he kissed another girl? No, he didn't kiss her... she kissed him. You felt petty now, the regret of ever questioning Spencer's loyalty mended into your brain.

"I'm not mad at you, you know?" You're tired, worn-out voice making it sound like a whisper. Spencer sighed softly, clear that he had forgotten as well and now he's remembered it all again. "It's just...seeing her with you, it just brought me back to high school you know? It made me feel how I did when fucking Rachel Clark tongue fucked my prom date..." You let out a soft sigh, playing with Spencer's hair as you talked.

"You know it's normal to feel that way, especially when you had a similar experience," Spencer explains, going on another one of his Reid rants. "And well, anyone would feel like that whether you had a similar experience with it or not. I know I would." Spencer's eyes wandered to the ceiling, closing his eyes due to utter exhaustion.

You couldn't imagine Spencer Reid ever getting jealous, he was always so calm about everything. You wondered what it would look like. Would he pin you to the bed and fuck the shit out of you like you did him or would he just not know how to deal with those emotions. You honestly wouldn't want to put him into a situation where he would feel that, you couldn't do that to little Spencer. He was innocent, as if the world had not touched him yet even if he does look at the dark underbelly of humans every single day.

"Yeah... well you won't ever have to worry about that my love." You said softly, cuddling yourself further into his side as you closed your eyes as well. "You're stuck with me..."

Spencer chuckled softly, at complete peace that he was stuck with you. If you were the person he was stuck with for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. You two didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets, you just needed each other's warmth as you lulled each other to sleep. The presence of jealousy and anger nowhere to be seen, maybe y'all didn't talk it out tonight but you sure did fuck and made up. You wouldn't have it any other way. 

[theriverbeyond]

how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?

hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!

Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:

When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori

John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori

John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori

He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof

Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?

In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL

there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry

I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)

How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate

[loislane41319]

Scare.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Wordcount: 795

Summary: Spencer comes home to an empty apartment.

Warnings: Panic attack.

Note: I finally posted again! Thank you for reading this. I greatly appreciate it.

No matter who or where you are or what your going through: you're doing great, even if you're simply surviving. Things will get better.

Story:

Spencer couldn’t wait to come home. He’d had a long day of doing paperwork, attending meetings and getting interrupted before finishing any story he’d started telling. He was tired, everything hurt and all he wanted was you. He just wanted to see your face, hear your voice and feel your touch. He just wanted you.

As he opened the front door, he expected to be met with the smell of food, the sound of your favourite music playing softly in the background and you, moving to the rhythm while cooking dinner. Except he wasn’t.

Instead, he was met with a deafening silence. No food, no music… and no you. “Y/N?” Spencer called your name as he felt his stomach drop. His head started spinning as he checked every room hoping to find you, but fearing the state you might be in. All he found were empty rooms and as the possible explanations for your absence kept getting more and more gruesome, his breathing quickened. Eventually, after checking every room in the apartment thrice, his greatest fear came creeping into his thoughts. What if you had just… left? Why wouldn’t you leave? You were a beautiful girl with the world at your feet. You could do anything, be anything and what did you have to stay for? Him? The too tall, sociably awkward know-it-all with the too long curls, the lanky figure and way too many too long rants? No way.

Suddenly his throat was being squeezed shut. He was all alone in his apartment and he couldn’t even catch a breath. How much more pathetic could he get?

Spencer was so stuck in his head, he didn’t notice the tears running down his cheeks or the door opening.

When you walked into the apartment you found your boyfriend on the ground. Spencer was curled up in a ball, sat against a cupboard, gasping for air. You immediately dropped the bags you were holding and within two steps you were by his side. You sat down next to him, wrapped one arm around his shoulders and grabbed his arm with the other. “Spencer? Breathe, just breathe. Can you do that for me?” You asked him. Spencer shook his head. “Okay, then just try to breathe out longer than you breathe in.” You told your boyfriend. He nodded, closed his eyes and grabbed your hand.

 Fifteen minutes both of you sat there. Fifteen minutes Spencer tried as hard as he could to get his breathing under control and after fifteen long minutes, he succeeded.

Your boyfriend was currently curled up against you. His arm was wrapped around your waist and his face was nuzzled into your neck. You just held him while he softly cried into your shoulder. “Spence, can you tell me what happened?” You softly asked him. “I thought you’d left.” He whispered softly, nuzzling deeper into your neck. “I was just getting some groceries. What does that have to do with your panic attack?” You asked him, drawing small circles on his back. “No, I thought you’d left… me,” Spencer then told you, “I- When I came home and you weren’t here… At first I thought something bad had happened, I mean, you’re always here when I come home. But, when I didn’t see any signs of a struggle… all these bad memories came back up and I got overwhelmed.”

“Memories… Like your dad leaving and Gideon leaving and then you just assumed…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, it sounds ridiculous.”

“Spence, no. Your feelings matter. You get to feel scared and all those people leaving you… that’s traumatising. So it’s not weird or stupid that when you come home to an empty apartment, that isn’t supposed to be empty you get scared. Even if you don’t have to.” You told Spencer. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Spence, you don’t have to thank me. I will always be here. I promise I won’t ever leave you.”  You said sincerely. Spencer moved his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. “Why?” He asked you softly. Inside you, your heart broke, but you didn’t let that show. Instead, you answered his question. “Because I love you.” Now Spencers grip on you tightened. His tears started streaming again as he pressed his lips to yours. You poured all the love you felt for the man in front of you into the kissed until you both had to pull back for air. Spencer tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, but they wouldn’t stop. “I-I can’t say it back yet, but I do feel the same way.” He told you, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “That’s perfectly fine. I can say it enough for the both of us.” You said and kissed him again.

[hxlda-hxlda]

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 

“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 

“Ask… who?” 

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 

“What?” 

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 

“And hello to you, too.” 

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 

“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 

“You wound me, Moons.” 

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 

“I will hang up right now.” 

A lie. He never hangs up first. 

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 

“Who?” 

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 

“Ah, Greg.” 

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 

“Now that would make the papers.” 

“Certainly… Is that all?” 

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 

“That’s not–” 

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 

pads !!!!!!!!!   

look what uve done  u menace 

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.

[beelmons]

Mandatory team-building exercise

Pairing: BAU x Fem!BAU!Reader (becomes Hotch-centered) Genre: Smut (18+, minors are not encouraged to interact or read this story) CW: unprotected sex (i do not encourage), slight exhibitionism (not really, but ppl know stuff), jealous!hotch (a lil only), hoeing around, reader is bisexual Word count: 6,795 (very sorry about this) Summary: After a night of drinking, your boss proposes a bonding exercise so the team can get even closer: Everyone must make out with you, and you have to choose who kisses best. A/N: I got too carried away with this, no idea if i did any good, but here you go. Tag list (tagging everyone who reblogged and voted hotch): @ssamorganhotchner @montyfandomlove @hotchners-sweetheart @hey-dw @cassiemartzz &lt;;3

Best part of going to O’keefe’s was wrapping the night up at Rossi’s, slightly tipsy, laughing about everything, and generally enjoying the genuine personalities of your friends, no masks or guards up, which was something hard to do at work. David’s house was a place where you could bare your soul and still feel safe. 

“...and I swear, everyone just thought it was the most normal thing.” JJ said while swinging her glass of wine around, and the people around her let out a light laugh. 

“I bet Rossi could agree with that, couldn’t you?” Morgan directed the question to Dave “After all, it’s your fault that we don’t get to fraternize with other agents, ain’t that right?” his comment made everyone laugh once again. 

“No, no, never within the same department. I was in the bureau during the 70’s and 80’s, you didn’t get that many women out here, let alone in the BAU. By the end of my career, we only had two female agents in this unit and I had already been married thrice. So, do the math, if I had wanted to sleep with someone from the same unit, it would have had to be…” he made a pause for dramatic build-up “well, Gideon.” 

The entire team let out a disgusted yet amused grunt at the mere idea of seeing two of their former bosses interacting in such fashion. You watched Spencer’s face be particularly crumpled, he was possibly picturing it in vivid detail by accident, consequences of having such a bright mind, so you decided to grab the hand that was holding his long island tea and push it gently towards his lips. You giggled at how he automatically obeyed and swallowed down a rather big gulp of his beverage. 

“I’m just glad these are problems we don’t have to face in the BAU, you know, fraternization between agents.” Hotch said, taking a sip off his glass. 

The silence that took over the group was deafening. Accusatory looks were being exchanged between everyone, and they could notice how certain glances lasted longer than appropriate. Hotch didn’t usually stay long enough to see how the nights ended, when everyone was too hammered to call their own cabs, or too impaired to question themselves whether the person they were kissing was or was not part of the team. 

“Well, I think this is a conversation you kids should have without your parent present.” David, who was way faster at reading the situation compared to the unit chief, got up from his chair, leaving his glass by the table. Aaron sighed in what seemed like disappointment, and immediately followed Dave's actions. “No, no.” the older man quickly put a hand on his shoulder indicating him to sit down “I think it’s better if you stay; do some bonding. I’ll be in my room, sleeping, don’t be afraid to be noisy, the place is soundproof, just make sure to leave the alarm active once you leave.”

Incredulity washed over the unit chief as he watched his fellow team leader walk away from the situation. The eyes had turned to him instead, silently questioning about the decision he was going to take. It was a bit awkward to discuss your personal affairs with your boss present, sure, but it’s not like you didn’t have a relationship with him. Hotch, reserved and all, knew each member to a level of intimacy that few others could be able to reach, and had protected them in ways no other superior would approve of.  

“Whatever I hear today will come through the ears of your friend, not your superior, but there’s no discussing this back at the office, understood?” the boss clarified as he went back to his seat, his hand reaching for the scotch he had left on the table. There was a second of doubtful silence, people were unsure how safe it was to share such private, and risky, information. Hotch started to catch up, feeling slightly unwelcome and bothersome, so he let out another sigh.  

“Elle was Reid’s first time.” you spurted out of the blue, trying to ease the anxiety that was probably growing within your superior. 

“Hey!” your partner yelled out, being sat next to you on one of the couches, clearly offended that he was the scapegoat to the situation. 

“Greenaway?!” Morgan asked from across the living room. 

“Do you know any more Elles, Morgan?” you said, your eyes rolling. 

“How did you even land that, kid?” the dark-skinned man continued to ask. 

“I’m not really a fan of discussing my sex life out in the open, which is why this was told in confidence to my close and dear friend” the young doctor shot you a quick glare with a hint of anger on it. 

“Oh, so now it’s a sex life?” JJ teased. 

“Totally.” you said, taking a sip of your own drink before continuing “Because he told me this two minutes before he shoved his tongue in my mouth, and his fingers down my pants.” 

“No way!” Prentiss let out while everyone else laughed in surprise, Hotch’s eyebrows simply slightly raised at the confession. 

Reid was sinking on his seat, his ears reddened from the looks that he was receiving. You made sure to squeeze his thigh lightly and shoot him a smile, which deflated the uneasiness that he was feeling. You didn’t mean any harm, and there was no wrong in letting the secret out in front of your most cherished friends, they would have found out one way or another. 

“Morgan and I made out once.” Garcia interrupted the teasing in order to protect her favorite boy wonder from any further teasing, and Derek drew a smug smile on his face at her affirmation. 

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Hotch contributed with an absolutely unphased expression, or so until another idea ran through his mind, his brows furrowing in concern “Hold on, was this on company time?” both suspects froze in their place and exchanged questioning, guilty looks. Regardless of the answer, their expressions had been enough to give them away “you know what? it’s better if I don’t know.” 

“That office is certainly cozy, don’t you think?” JJ said once again, her eyes traveling between you and Penelope. 

“Impossible.” Derek’s eyes spread wide open, his jaw basically dropping “Please don’t tell me the three made out in Garcia’s office and didn’t invite us to watch” he let out in a pleading, hurt tone. 

“Four.” Emily barged in. 

The men in the room seemed to melt at the revelation, the expression being quite literal for Morgan who slid down the chair in defeat, landing on his knees as if he had been shot in the cruelests of fashions. Spencer could only furrow his brows and let his mouth fall open, already trying to picture the situation. 

“Was it like, taking turns on each other? or the four of you putting your lips together in one single kiss?” the blond asked in order to assess the spatial situation better. 

“I’d say it was kind of a free-for-all sort of situation.” Prentiss answered him. 

“At some point, I’d close my eyes and whomever’s lips came to mine, I was fine with it.” JJ commented, earning a flirty giggle from the rest of the girls around her. 

“You women are killing me.” Morgan said once again, but a sudden epiphany seemed to come through his brain, and he turned in your direction with a pointed finger “Wait a second. That means you have been through everyone’s lips?!” he said in surprise. 

“You’ve made out with her too?!” Garcia said in an offended tone. 

“Christmas last year, got a little carried away with that mistletoe kiss.” he admitted “But nothing further than that.” 

Everyone’s eyes turned to you, the crowd had a mixture of accusation and admiration on their faces, depending on who you looked at, and their staring was making you a little uncomfortable, if you were being honest. 

“Have you all looked at yourselves? This is a ridiculously hot group of people. Being bisexual is very hard with a team like this.” you argued in your defense and decided to down whatever liquid was still inside your glass. Their faces seemed to light up with a hint of shyness. Everyone thought so, of course, but compliments on your physical appearances were not something you exchanged frequently. It was nice to hear once in a while. 

“Did you ever end up sleeping with someone?” Hotch’s question took everyone by surprise, yet they were intrigued enough to allow him to ask uninterrupted. 

Your eyebrows raised with slight offense “Come on, Hotch, I’m not a slut. The closest I have come to was Reid, and even so we stopped because I didn’t want to jeopardize our jobs.” you complained. 

“Sorry, that was not my intention-” he began, until Reid’s question cut him off. 

“Who’s the best?” he asked. 

“Spencer!” JJ yelled accusingly. 

“No, no, let the kid ask.” Morgan put a hand in front of JJ’s chest, trying to keep her opinions from coming out. Yet again, you were put as the center of attention, but you decided to shrug off the question. 

“It’s not like I keep track of each time!” you let out, pushing your friend by the shoulder playfully at his suggestion “Most of them were really far apart from each other, and it only happened once with each one of you.” you clarified, your eyes traveling to Aaron, as if you were trying to justify yourself to him. 

“So, what I hear is: if they were to happen one after the other, then we could find out?” Emily questioned in your direction. 

“There’s a pretty spacious coat closet by the entrance.” Reid pointed out. 

“Oh, we could make it into a competition, and whoever wins gets to sleep with her!” Garcia blurted with a little too much excitement. 

“Wha-” you tried to complain in confusion “Stop your horses, I don’t even get a say in this?!” 

“No.” Hotch stated. The way his eyes were stern, yet completely determined, caused a sensation in you that could only be described as lust. He was always commanding, but there was something about him instructing you to do the dirtiest things to your coworkers that had gotten you excited “This is now a mandatory team-bonding exercise.” his words came out almost like an order.  

There was yet another exchange of looks, this time excited ones, between the team members, and they decided to look at you for approval. “Okay, but sleeping with me is one hell of a prize, and I don’t seem to be getting anything out of this. So, how do I win, and what do I win?” 

“Seems fair that you have a reward as well if you achieve your desired result. How about, if no one is able to convince you to sleep with them, you get one of their vacation days each.” Hotch proposed. “Garcia and JJ, since the two of you are committed you don’t have to actively participate, but you will place a bet on the member you think she’ll most likely succumb to, if you win, you get the loser’s vacation day.”  

Your mouth crooked with pleasure, an expression that your partners mimicked. You were feeling exposed, in the good way, in the kinky way. You still took a second to consider, you knew there was no going back if you agreed to this, but yet again, these were the people you had trusted your entire life to, your job, your safety, your dignity. They would never do anything to undermine you, and their respect for you wouldn’t waver for something like this. 

“We have to set some rules, though.” Spencer weighed in “Only mouths and hands allowed in the erogenous zones.” 

“You worried that if we allow something else you’ll lose?” Morgan teased.

“Mhm, sure, we know what you’re trying to compensate for with those biceps, Morgan. I’m not afraid of you.” his friend teased back. There was a short moment of playful conflict between the two, when Derek pretended to jump menacingly towards Reid, yet he was stopped by Penelope’s hand on his chest. 

“Okay. I’m game.” you agreed along with a nod of your head “Who wants to give it a try first?” you asked, taking a look at the entire group. 

Bunch of eager hands raised at the cue. Morgan’s and Prentiss’s almost touching the ceiling as they competed to see who could raise it higher. JJ and Penelope, who were unfortunately not single at the moment, could only laugh at their little quarrel. Your finger moved rhythmically, pretending to select at random while humming a classic ‘choosing’ song. Ultimately, your digit landed on Prentiss and you wiggled it to indicate her to follow you; she stood up to reach for your hand, allowing you to lead her towards the closet by the entrance. 

She locked the door behind her and turned around with her hands extended towards you, trying to find your body in the pitch-dark small room; your eyesights finally adjusted to the lack of light and you could barely make out her shape. 

“You sure you’re good with this?” she double-checked once her limbs landed on your waist. 

“Em, I love the commitment to consent, but stop talking.” you ordered. 

Within seconds, your own arms wrapped around her neck urging her to come closer; she obliged, happily, and her own head bent forward to meet your lips. You could taste the faint flavor of her balm, which you identified as piña colada. 

Her lips moved slowly, yet sensually, the hands that were gripping your hips pulled them closer, and you could heart the rustling of your clothes rubbing together. After a couple of seconds, her tongue began to prod your bottom lip, ever so chivalrous asking for permission. You chuckled amusedly at the gesture, and she took advantage of the opening to slip in. 

Emily liked to take her time, not really taking control, more like exploring a place that always felt familiar and was revisiting just then. On your side, your fingers curled into the slightly messy hair, and your body rolled on its own to be feeling more of her against you. 

You could feel her hand dragging upwards over your clothes, she traced the side of your body and caused your shirt to come up a little bit, the cool air felt interesting against your now hot skin, and so a sound slipped past your lips. It was Emily’s turn to laugh, pulling away so she could make out your eyes. 

“Better than last time?” she asked, her face not leaving yours. 

“Mhm.” you could simply hum, still breathless from the session. 

“Do you have enough material to work with, judge?” she teased, her nose grazing yours in a playful manner. 

“You will be hard to top, Em.” you admitted to her as your body pulled away. 

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” she joked “I’ll send in the next contestant, who do you want me to get?” 

“You know what? Just send in whoever you’d like, surprise me.” 

She smiled before sneaking out of the narrow room. You were left alone with a bunch of coats and purses, your idea building anticipation within yourself. Spencer or Morgan, who would come through that door? You were dying to know. Although, if you were being honest, there was only one other person you wanted in there with you. However, you weren’t sure if the team-bonding exercise applied to him as well, he was the sole pair of lips you were dying to taste, and still the only ones you hadn’t. 

Your train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door; you jumped slightly in your place, and the man that was entering the room could notice. 

“Whoa, sweetheart, you that excited to see me?” Morgan chuckled at your startled reaction, and he swiftly closed the door behind you. 

“You’re a pleasant surprise, yes.” you said trying to ease your nervousness. Morgan made you particularly uneasy, not for anything bad, you were just sure that man had some sort of a psychic ability, he would always guess what you were thinking without even opening your mouth. 

“You were expecting someone different, weren’t you?” he stood before you, towering over your body. 

He took a couple of steps forward and you retracted until your back eventually hit the wall, he continued to pace forward until the gap between your bodies almost disappeared; being caged in by him, your hands traveled to your front, and they landed on his chest, almost as if you were trying to put some space in between you. 

He caught up to your actions, observant as he was, and so he raised his own hands to cup your cheeks. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness once again, and you could see the natural glim of his as he looked into you. 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, alright? We can just pretend like we did until Hotch gets his turn.” he reassured, and your mouth dropped open. 

“Why would you-” you started to try and justify yourself, but he cut you off with a laugh. 

“I’ve got an eye for tragic lovers.” 

You sighed a little bit; Morgan had to be a mind reader, there was no other way. As if he was doing just that, his arms fell back to his sides and he stepped back to give you more space. Your hands desperately clung to the front of his t-shirt, not allowing him to escape any further from your grip. 

“Hold on.” you told him “There’s no need to pretend, he already thinks we’re going to do it, so what’s the harm?” 

The room was a bit too dark for you to make out his specific facial expression, but you were sure his eyebrows were raised in a startled surprise. 

“Damn, you’re good at convincing.” without further delay, his hands darted back to the position on your face, and he used them to pull you forward. 

You felt his lips on yours immediately, he was less gentle than Emily, but nonetheless chivalrous. You had to grant him access to your mouth, and he quickly obeyed your desires. His fingers moved back to the nape of your head, keeping you in place against his mouth as his tongue danced fervently around yours. 

Your hands had moved back to his chest, using them to stabilize yourself since his strength and mild roughness was making you lose your balance. You couldn’t help the slight squeeze that you gave his pecs, being that they felt firm under your fingers. Derek took your initiative with the touch as an invitation to do so as well. One of his arms fell down, and sensually slipped to your lower back, he was cautious, lowering inch by inch in search of any sign of complaint or rejection, but you didn’t provide  any, and his palm gently began to caress the area of your ass. 

Your hips rolled unconsciously against his, his breath hitched inside his throat as you did so to the point where he had to pull apart to catch it back. He didn’t want to leave you unattended, therefore his head tilted to the side to take a gentle nibble at your jaw before he moved down to your neck. The hand on your neck joined the other on your rear, adding much needed pressure to his front; you let out a pleased sound, and it was his sign to retract. 

He stole a quick, last peck from your lips before he pulled back. “I think I’ve done a good job.” he said with a cheeky tone.  

“Certainly, contestant” you went along with the joke and he answered with a laugh “Please send in the next test subject” he nodded at your instructions and calmly walked out. 

Thanks to Morgan’s comment, you realized that Aaron was probably game as well, and the mere thought of him appearing behind that door at any given second was making you nervous enough to begin pacing around the small room. You yet again reacted when the entrance was open again, and you must have made a movement or expression that indicated disappointment, because Reid pursed his lips at the sight of you. 

“Not who you were expecting?” he asked before he closed the door behind him, and you could notice the tint of sadness in his voice. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” you reached out towards him in an attempt to find his hands, and when you finally did you pulled him closer to you “You know it’s always a delight to make out with you.” you tried to reassure him. 

“It’s mutual, you know?” he said, his hands still in yours. 

“I figured, I am an excellent kisser” you teased. 

“That’s not what I meant.” his voice seemed more stern than usual “You and Hotch.” 

You were thankful for the darkness that didn’t allow the blush of your face to be seen; after a couple of seconds, you cleared your throat, trying to avoid sounding too hopeful. 

“You don’t have to force yourself to kiss me” he added “Plus, I don’t know how comfortable I would be doing so while you think of another man.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his candor. Vulnerable Spencer could always sway you, mostly because you knew none of his words ever held an ill intention. He was honest to a fault, and you always felt compelled to soothe his anxieties. 

“Then be good enough to make me forget.” you almost let out as a whisper. 

You knew it would have to be up to you to take control with him, so you cupped his face and quickly dragged him down to your level to press a kiss to his lips and shut up whatever other excuse he was going to emit. Spencer was much more familiar with your lips compared to others, barely any foreplay before his tongue was already massaging yours sensually. His fingers gripped your hips in a similar fashion he had done before (that one time you were telling the rest of the team about). 

He pushed you backwards a bit, having you pressed against an already too familiar wall, and you could feel his knee slipping past your thighs, right in between them. His lips continued to work around yours, gently nonetheless, but you could feel the grip on your hips getting tighter, and you realized he was trying to move them, bringing friction to your front. 

A light moan slipped past your lips straight into his mouth, so his body moved forward to press against you a little tighter. “Isn’t that cheating?” you took the opportunity to say. 

“It’s not.” he answered before taking another kiss away from you “My mouth is where it’s supposed to be.” 

You giggled at his logic; Spencer was just that good when it came to loopholes. You were too focused on the pleasure that was taking over you as your clothed crotch continued to rub against his leg to actually care. Your hips started to take a rhythm on their own, and your kiss turned into a session of adjoining lips panting in unison. His fingers kept digging further into the skin that he had managed to expose due to the movement. 

At some point, your head dropped back to allow yourself to get lost in the moment, and you felt his lips attack its base with open-mouthed, yet non-invasive, kisses. Your legs began to shake and Spencer pressed against you to keep you up, your light orgasm running within every vein of your body. 

He let out a light chuckle as he pulled away from you, making sure you could keep your balance. “Bet Morgan didn’t do that” he said proudly. 

You hit him in the arm and pushed him towards the door with a smile, watching him smugly prance his way out. You laughed to yourself to disguise the anxiety that began to overwhelm you. You made sure to fix your clothes in a somewhat presentable manner, and you unconsciously pressed yourself back against the wall, as if you were too scared to meet him face first. 

Your heart felt like jumping straight up out of your chest when the knob finally twisted the damned piece of fine wood open. For the brief moment the hall light illuminated the insides, your eyes met, you could see the startle in his eyes once he noticed the way you stood there seemingly frozen by his appearance. He couldn’t bear the sight, his hands immediately darting to your face without having even shut the entrance. In a blink, his entire presence was right by yours, and his nose rubbed desperately against your own, almost as if it had taken all of his strength to stop himself from kissing you right away. 

“Can I?” he asked in a mutter. 

“Yes.” you barely let him finish his question when you answered. 

Your firm and resolute agreement was nothing but a turn on to him, and his lips pressed passionately against yours without a second thought. You struggled to catch your breath as he devoured every inch of your now plump skin. His hands were nowhere near quiet, either, they presumed permission to explore as well and traveled south to where your lower-back, and any work you had done to tidy your shirt was long gone, being that he was heavily bothered by the fact that you were clothed.

The tip of his fingers were carefully memorizing the areas where your skin curved, every so often gripping selfishly with the intention of leaving at least a faint mark. You wondered how he could keep going without taking a break, and as if he could read your mind he pulled away.

“That’s plenty to be able to judge your performance.” you joked, suddenly aware that this had all begun because of a silly game you had tipsily come up with. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, his hands fixing themselves on your face instead, keeping it still to have you at the same level as him. 

“What for?” your eyebrows furrowed questioningly, even if in the darkness he couldn’t quite see your expression. 

“It’s not enough for me.” his lips smashed onto yours once again with a similar force “Please tell me this urge isn’t one-sided.” he tried to reassure himself. 

“It’s not.” you hurried to clarify, and your hands tugged at his shirt to serve as guarantee. 

Aaron reached for the hem of your top and swiftly pulled it over your head, giving your aching lips a second of rest. Once your breasts were partially freed, you noticed him bend over, and one of his hands moved the remaining fabric away to expose your nipple; the way his mouth so hungrily latched to it made you shiver with pleasure, your right limb moving to his hair, and the left one covering your mouth to stop the loud moan from coming out. He didn’t take long to bring your other nub attention as well, and caged, throaty whines began to fill the room. 

You could feel his erection pressing against your hip; he would roll them from time to time just as a reminder of the effect you had on him. You couldn’t process all that, though, if you were being honest, his every move, kiss, and suck driving you further away from sanity. As if his mouth wasn’t already doing wonders around your chest, you bolted up when you realized one of Hotch’s hands had found its way inside your pants, toying with the elastic band of your underwear. 

“Aaron.” you removed the cover from your face to let out an aroused moan of his name. 

He finally let go of your upper body, his back straightening to be close to your face once again “Tell me,” he almost whispered “when he was doing this to you, were you thinking of me?” 

When you didn’t jerk away from his touch, he moved past the last restrictive garment, and one of his digits trailed up your entire slit, an experimental feeling to gather your reaction. To his pleasure, you melted into his touch, and the lack of light didn’t allow you to see the wide smile it generated on him. He took advantage of your approval to slip his finger inside your cunt. 

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased as the aforementioned began to painstakingly slowly twirl within you “Tell me, is there anyone else that can make you this agitated? So wet, so desperate to be touched?” 

“N-No” you tried to answer in one go, however, the way the tip of his finger caressed your walls in search of reactions was not allowing you to think straight. 

“I’ll ask you again.” he said, his tone ever commanding “While he was touching you like this, did you secretly wish it was me?” he kept pressing his initial line of questioning, that you were too gone to remember it was about your little anecdote with Reid. 

His wrist twisted in a way that allowed him to penetrate deeper, owning a moan that you tried to subtly suppress. 

“Yes!” you cried out in the lowest tone you were able to, still oddly aware that the rest of your coworkers were outside. 

“Let him know.” he basically growled against your ear, you lacked contact in your lower body for a second, only to let out a loud, uncontained whimper once he added a second finger to the formula. You grabbed for dear life onto his biceps, trying to keep your balance as he continued to thrust his fingers inside and out, your head also laid against the crook of his neck, unable to keep yourself facing him as he spilled dirty nothings in your ear. 

“Aaron, please.” you begged as your hips tried to get him even further within you “I need more.” 

The arm that was helping you keep still moved so his fingers could tangle in your hair, his grip allowed him to tilt your head back with a gentle tug, not quite enough to hurt you, but firm enough to force it a little. 

“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget every word but my name.” his mouth pressed against yours once again to give you a reaffirming, rough kiss.

He removed his hand from your downside, and it energetically began to search around for the top he had removed earlier. Unable to find it, between other pieces of clothing and the darkness of the room, Aaron decided to remove his own shirt and hurried to throw it over your shoulders. 

Your face reddened at his intentions, he was trying to cover you so the rest of the members wouldn’t see you literally half naked. Once he was comfortable with how many buttons he had hooked, he grabbed your hand to guide you outside the narrow closet. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, and his subordinates, the only path towards the guest rooms, that Dave had prepared earlier, was to follow the hallway that crossed the living room area on the side. You braced yourself mentally, your hand covering your face as you began to feel the confused sights of your coworkers during your little parade. 

“Last one out set the alarm.” you could hear Hotch command, but you didn’t dare to look back at your friends, or him for that matter. 

The rest of the group simply stared at how their shirtless superior was dragging a girl, their very best friend, who was wearing his shirt over what was obviously a barely clothed chest, to the rooms their other boss had prepared for a very specific purpose. They exchanged puzzled looks in complete silence until Emily spoke up. 

“Anyone know the alarm code?” she asked. 

Back to you and Aaron, he had chosen the closest door he could find open. As soon as you stepped in, he grabbed your hips once again to press them against his, his erection made itself known against them, and you couldn’t help but to curiously wander one hand down. Your foreheads met and so did your eyes as you palmed his front; he let out an airy quiet moan. 

Not able to take his frustration any longer, he twirled in his place along with you, making you stumble and fall on your back on to the bed. He landed right on top, his palms against the mattress cushioning the fall so he wouldn’t lay his entire weight on you. 

There was no exchange of words, only a quick glance at your covered bottom that you understood as a command. Your back arched upwards and he could steal a glance of your perked nipples rubbing against his lent shirt. Shortly, you began to wiggle underneath him to remove the pants that you were pushing down along with your underwear. Once you were exposed, garments missing somewhere around the area, Aaron sat on his knees to unbuckle his belt. 

The second his member became exposed, you let out a pleased gasp, which prompted him to smile in a rather shy way. Your legs subtly spread apart, revealing more of your intimate parts, and he understood that as an invitation to enter. His tip trailed slowly up and down your entrance, but before you could complain, he began to push in. He was as desperate as you were, and the way you let out a soft whine at his size. 

Once he had pushed all the way in, he reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers together and pushing them all the way over your head. He could get a clear view of your face and breasts, and once he made sure you had adjusted to him, his hips began to move. Another moan escaped your lips, so he leaned down to meet his mouth with yours, planting a passionate, deep kiss to it. 

You could feel yourself being filled by him, soft noises coming out of your mouth into his at the gentleness of his thrusts. Said gesture, however, wouldn’t seem to last long, and you noticed in the way the grip of your hands felt tighter with each one. 

“No one else can touch you like this.” he pulled away from the kiss to focus on the side of your neck, you felt his lips attach to the skin and roughly suck on it. Aaron pulled away to admire the redness that spread on the spot, proud of the mark that he knew it was going to leave. 

“No one else.” you reassured, your back arching a little at the pulsating pain on your neck. 

“Good girl.” he praised, his hips snapping with a particularly rough thrust that caused a low ‘fuck’ out of you. 

“Don’t hold back your voice.” 

He repeated his movement, and this time you squirmed trying to free your hands, a loud, throat-deep whimper resonating around the otherwise empty room. He smirked at the volume of the sound, yet his hips continued to pound in you, the initial slow movements gone from his rhythm. 

“Aaron…” you whispered in between moans “I want to cum.” you tried to beg. 

“Not yet, sweetheart.” his eyes glimmered with certain darkness

His hips changed angles even when his current speed wouldn’t give in, the way he was pushing now allowed your clit to rub slightly against his lower torso with every thrust, probably so he wouldn’t have to use his hands and set yours free. 

“I need to know I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” he growled “I need you to say you’re mine.” 

“I’m-” you were about to start talking when he snapped his hips roughly, and you could feel him slide all the way in, his balls making a loud clapping sound when they hit the skin on your ass. The sound you made was loud, almost like a scream, and you were sure whoever was still outside certainly heard it. 

“What 's that? Couldn’t hear you.” his mouth had curled into a smug smirk. 

“I’m yours, Aaron. I’m all yours.” you cried out, your wrists once again twisting in an attempt to free themselves. 

He muttered another praise and let go of your hands, which could only fall flat to your sides and grip onto the sheets of the bed; he leaned back to be sitting on his knees once again, not allowing his member to slip out of you, and grabbed at your hips to slide them onto his lap. He held them in position as he continued to thrust, but one of his thumbs snuck to the upper part of your cunt, rapidly teasing the sensitive nerve bundle. 

You kept slightly gritting your teeth, your walls clenching around his shaft without mercy, and even if it was not obvious on his face, you could tell by the way his member throbbed inside of you that he was about to reach his limit as well. 

“Cum.” he suddenly commanded, and you didn’t need anything more. 

You allowed yourself to be engulfed by your climax, your body twisting itself and your hands pulling at the fabric beneath them, your legs also curled, basically pushing your partner in your direction, not even giving him the option to pull back. 

On his part, his head was thrown back, and you could see the way his adam’s apple bobbed with the loud groans he let out, his fingers gripping tighter on your skin, however this time the mark that his hold would leave was a complete accident. 

He didn’t pull out once he had spilled himself completely into you, instead, his body dropped forward, his arms slipping under your body to hold you close to him, head on your chest, eyes closed, just trying to take in the fact that he had just made love to you. 

“Aaron?” you said with a curious tone, your arms wrapping around his back and allowing one of your hands to tangle in his hair. He answered with a short hum, too tired to give you an actual answer “Does it bother you that I made out with the rest of the team tonight?” you asked, nervous that it would have hurt him in any way. 

“No.” he said matter-of-factly “As long as I only get to do it from now on.” 

You shared a light chuckle, and without noticing, the both of you drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning was a bit awkward for Rossi, being that he was not expecting to see the entire team, save for you and Hotch, curled on his living room furniture. JJ, Reid, and Emily had curled up together on the larger piece, while Morgan and Garcia cuddled on one of the individual seats. The clearing of his throat woke everyone up in a startle, and they looked around confusedly for the missing members of the group. 

“What the hell happened last night?” David asked no one in particular. 

“We were playing a game, and we must have fallen asleep waiting for it to end.” Garcia said with a slightly suggestive, yet groggy, voice, and Rossi decided it was better not to ask. 

“By the way, how do we interpret this?” Emily asked “Who won?” 

“Do you even have to ask?” Morgan scoffed, and Emily shrugged in defeat. 

“Then, who won between the two of you?” Reid asked, pointing at JJ and Garcia. 

“No one, really.” Jennifer replied. 

“What? You both failed? Who did you choose?” Morgan inquired. 

The blondes exchanged looks to see if they had had the same thought, and so they replied in unison once they had figured they were correct. 

“Spencer.” their tones were flat, almost as if the answer was obvious. Reid lit up in a smile, wiggling his eyebrows victoriously at Derek. 

“What?! No way you would just pick him!” he was baffled at the answer. 

“Girls talk, Derek” Penelope told him “Let’s just say Elle reviewed his service with five stars.” 

The group broke into a shared laugh, and Rossi only interrupted so he could inquire on the whereabouts of his friends. 

“Where’s Aaron?” he prompted. 

“One of the guest rooms.” Reid said. 

“And is he with…?” Dave continued. 

“Yup” the five members said in unison, referring to you. 

“Also, Rossi, if you don’t mind, I kind of have a design suggestion.” Spencer turned in the direction of his superior

The older man raised his eyebrows, curious about the words that were about to come out of the younger’s mouth. “Let’s hear it.” 

“Please make all the rooms soundproof.”

[hkthatgffan]

Hey! You seem like a huge *Gravity Falls* fan, so I was hoping you could answer some of my biggest questions about morality in the show. Since the release of *The Book of Bill* (which I’ve read), do you think Bill could ever be redeemed or seen sympathetically? Is there a possibility for him to get better and maybe even have a happy ending?

I ask this because I see a lot of fans saying, "He's awful," or "He deserves everything coming to him a thousandfold," and "Don't sympathize with him!" But then I watch the show, and I see characters like Gideon Gleeful and Robbie who were also problematic—they did terrible things but still got happy endings.

I know Gideon went to jail, but he broke out and ultimately had a positive resolution. Robbie, for example, tried to brainwash Wendy into a romantic relationship (which is super messed up!). Even though it didn’t work, and Wendy only dated him because she thought he wrote her that song, Robbie knew what the CD was supposed to do. But instead of facing real consequences, he just went through a breakup and still ended up with a happy ending, with friends and a new girlfriend.

As for Gideon, he tried to kill Dipper, manipulate Mabel, and invade the entire town’s privacy—basically doing some of the same things Bill did. Yet, after going to jail and making a last-minute turn toward good, he still got a happy ending.

So I’m super confused. What should I be feeling? Is there a correct way to view these characters? What do you think?

Bill at his core is the personification of denial. We see in the book that the harbours some regret and hatred for what he's done to the people around him but he refuses to try and take it to heart and use it as a point to grow from. I mean, look at what he did.

He killed his entire dimension and family and yet tries to deny it was anything bad and that in fact he liberated them. He manipulated and almost destroyed Ford and yet denies ruining the friendship they had. He tried to kill Dipper and Mabel and yet acts like it was nothing. Bill is unsympathetic. He's a narcissistic sociopath who doesn't wanna admit it.

The difference with Robbie and Gideon is that they changed and grew past their issues. Robbie tbh was more so being a literal teen drama story while Gideon was made that way through his exposure to Journal 2 and how that corrupted him. Once both found a new lease on life, they were able to grow and become better.

Bill is not that. He cannot accept that he's not fine and that he's the sole survivor of his kind and has pushed everyone he knew out of his life through his own actions. We've all probably dealt with people like Bill Cipher. Be it a person, co-worker, significant other, friend, family member, etc. We've all had that person who acts full of themselves and manipulatively but in reality is suffering. But because of how they act and their refusal to do anything, you start to lose any sympathy or interest in helping or being there and just let them go. Congrats...you just escaped a toxic relationship.

As someone who has dealt with Bill Ciphers in my life like many of us probably have, it's easy to feel sympathy for him. Bill make his case out as such that you wanna feel like he deserves better. But he's a trillion year old being that has been doing the same thing over and over again and refuses to make an effort to move on and let himself accept what he did to his dimension and to people around him like Ford.

Ford on the other hand realized that and cut Bill out of his life. He's doing better now because of that and has his family by his side. Ford is an example of how to move on from such toxic situations and people and find happiness in your life again after that. Bill is the example of what happens if you can't.

Life is short. We all will die one day. We all deserve to lead a life free of people like Bill Cipher in it. The best thing we can do is follow Ford and find the people in life that make us happy and let go of Bill.

So, to answer your question, NO!

I don't think Bill Cipher can be redeemed or seen in a sympathetic way. He tried to. But he's shown even in the Theraprism that he can't. He's doomed to live forever with the shit he's done. And it's his own fault.

Bill can say he's fine but in the end...he's not. And he never will be. There is no redemption for Bill Cipher.

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

can you do a gideon graves x gn!reader? any hcs (sfw or nsfw) about anything is fine :3

Dating Gideon Graves Would Include…

Pairing: Gideon Graves x GN! Reader.

Summary: Read the title.

Warnings: Both SFW and NSFW (sections are separated: SFW is first), You take Gideon to therapy because he needs it, Gideon is selfish, Oral sex, 69 position, Mentions of cum, Face-sitting, Face-fucking, Aftercare is necessary!

Writing Time: 30 minutes.

Word Count: 716.

A/N:

I think I went on a rant here… but it’s ok. Hope you enjoy!

—-///—-

SFW

• Dating Gideon “G-Man” Graves… woah.

• You must be bold or something.

• If you’re not, I have no idea what you’re doing.

• Gideon is a little shit, most of the time.

• He loves to tease.

• He wants to see his lover look up to him with tremendous trust, respect and admiration.

• All things I think partners should look at each other with, but Gideon can definitely take it too far at times.

• He wants to submit to him in all ways.

• He’s your saviour and your kind, without him you would be nothing.

• Not very healthy at all.

• For example, he expects you to constantly ask him for permission for everyone.

• Generally he’ll always say yes and laugh at you even asking.

• But if you ever think you don’t need to ask, you’re wrong.

• Do something he’s always said yes to before without asking him prior and he’ll be upset.

• Gideon has got major issues.

• I think you could convince him to go to therapy, both on his own and with you (couples therapy).

• But it might take a couple asks.

• And when you do convince him, he’ll think he’s basically sacrificed himself for you.

• One session and he thinks he’s a new man and YOU owe him for going.

• Will absolutely expect some kind of reward.

• Gideon is a weirdo too.

• It’s normal for him to hang around outside while your taking a shower, kind of weird.

• Won’t join without an invite but it’s still weird as hell.

• Gideon loves to watch you do anything tbh.

• Cooking, cleaning, brushing your teeth, go to work, work, come back from work…

• The little everyday tasks everyone does is just a little more interesting to Gideon when he sees you doing it.

• He likes it if you watch him too, it’s kind of a weird form of love to him.

• Your therapist calls it abandonment and attachment issues.

• Gideon thinks that’s BS and claims he just loves to look at you.

• Which he does, but your therapist is still right though.

NSFW

• Most ‘rewards’ Gideon expects demands are sexual.

• You shouldn’t have to be even told to get on your hands and needs for him after he’s gone to therapy for you.

• Your place is either besides him or underneath him.

• Gideon’s preferred position is 69, don’t fight me on this on.

• In this position, you both get pleasure.

• And despite how selfish Gideon can be, he does want you to feel just as good as him.

• When he’s forcing his dick down your throat and slapping you in the face with his balls, you must surely be enjoying it just as much as him, right?

• And obviously he’ll go down on you afterwards, because that’s only fair.

• Gideon gives oral real lazy though.

• Expects you to just sit on his face but be careful of his hair and face.

• Gideon has definitely flipped out before and killed the mood when you once accidentally came on his face.

• Only in his mouth, inside of him or away from him where it won’t make a mess.

• But obviously he cums all over you, whenever he wants to.

• That’s one of his selfish needs.

• Gideon is surprisingly great at aftercare.

• He will bring you a towel or carry you to the shower, whatever you want.

• Clean you up himself and the toys too if you use them.

• And bring you some tea or water as well.

• Then cuddle you when your both all cleaned up.

• After sex is one of the rare times you’ll see Gideon being kind.

[dve]

going off of this post and its incredible insights about gideon and the fandom filtration and shitty treatment she gets as a butch woman of color i think there's also major critiques to be made re: the way people talk about pyrrha, especially pyrrha dve as a trans woman living in the body of g1deon who can be textually read as Black and is at the very least (because i know some of you will go tamsyn doesn't specify him as being Black the way you always do when non-white characters are not explicitly pointed out to be Black, despite fandom-wide portrayals of gideon and pyrrha both as Black!) a dark-skinned man of color.

some people in fandom are really happy to buy into the descriptions that augustine and mercymorn attribute to him when they're upset with him, animal-like, no better than a guard dog, and too incompetent to handle anything more than "simple soups and stews" without giving him the proper nuance and depth that they afford more or less every other character in the series — it really doesn't sit right with me that they will give every other character generous, layered interpretations and analysis but stop at gideon the first.

but as soon as it's pyrrha in gideon's body, she becomes someone who can be fetishized, desired, and used — features that are ostensibly exactly the same as gideon's become desirable and sexy, especially in fic, often with a focus on pyrrha's sexuality and her body rather than any attention to who she is as a person. it's especially noticeable in the way that people struggle to discuss pyrrha without reducing her to a sexy domme mommy / milf / great with the strap etc. etc. — and i'm not saying that pyrrha can't be hot or sexy or whatever, because that's not the point i'm trying to make, but you'll be racist about gideon the first and unable to think critically about him and how he's portrayed in htn in one breath and in the next talking about how bad you want pyrrha to dick you down.

it's the frequent issue we see on tumblr and in other spaces where trans women are thirsted after openly, their bodies sexualized and fetishized, and this is somehow considered to be a form of acceptance because if you say you want to have sex with trans women then that's good enough, and you shouldn't have to examine the way you treat trans women any more than that, especially trans women of color.

[mayasaura]

sorry if this has been answered before or if there's a post about this, but I've been seeing a lot of posts labeling harrow as schizophrenic and/or having trouble recognizing reality, including the one you just made about crux as harrow's caretaker and reality-indicator.

I realize that these interpretations come from htn, but I'm curious as why people feel that it's always been a trait of harrow's instead of a side effect of the lobotomy?

I was under the impression that she created the reality problems as an excuse to cover the blocks in her memory, especially since we know that wake/the sleeper didn't possess her until after gtn and most of her confusion happens in the river bubble.

even the "hallucinations" of the body don't really impact her perception of reality, and it's actually alecto's soul not a real hallucination. the only questionable moment I can remember is when she sees cytheria under the bed and ianthe says there's nothing there, but we know ianthe is a duplicitous legend so I read it as ianthe lying to harrow lol

long story short, I was wondering if there was scenes in gtn, ntn, or post-realization htn that indicate harrow has had these reality problems pre-lobotomy? or if you know of a post analyzing it further? sorry to throw this at you, I just haven't seen any analysis of it but I saw your post so I was hoping you would have more info :) I really adore all of your tlt analysis posts!

Hi! Yeah, if you go into my '#harrow's schizophrenia' tag, I've made several posts about it, and other people have added on to a few of them with further elaboration.

But I don't think I've ever laid it out fully like a thesis. And I have several stressful things I should be doing right now, so I can't think of a better time to get into it.

When Harrow's brain is editing Gideon out, there's an effect a little like a record skip. Her memory snags on something, very briefly, and then quickly moves on. Or she'll make an assumption or say something that doesn't actually make sense without Gideon in the picture, but she won't notice. The most prominent example is the details in chapter 3 surrounding her opening of the Tomb:

Just ellipsis "found out" ellipsis to skim over the very large part Gideon had to play in those events. If she were to interrogate the memory, it would be strange that she doesn't remember how her parents found out, but doing so would make her brain bleed. She would black out, and most likely forget what she was trying to remember.

And an example from the same chapter of a statement that doesn't make sense, unless you know about Gideon:

Two things are important about these examples, the first being that they don't upset Harrow. She doesn't think they're strange, because she barely thinks about them, which was sort of the point of the lobotomy in the first place. The second is that they can be immediately explained by plugging Gideon into the Gideon-shaped hole in Harrow's memory. If you know about Gideon, and what Harrow's done, there's no mystery remaining.

In contrast, there are other details in chapter 3 about Harrow's childhood that Harrow did, and does, find strange and upsetting.

Gideon didn't attend services, and she most definitely didn't participate in chants. Putting Gideon back in the picture does nothing to explain the "weird, thuddering beat" Harrow finds disruptive. But it does sound an awful lot like an auditory hallucination, as does hearing doors open and close where no doors were opening and closing.

Maybe we could try to explain the doors by supposing she was hearing Gideon coming and going without remembering the source, but that doesn't really track with how we know her mind processes the missing pieces. If Harrow were papering Gideon over in her memory, it wouldn't be important who was or wasn't opening doors and where. The focus of her memory would quickly shift, just like it did when trying to remember how her parents found out about the Tomb, in order to avoid looking at what she's hidden from herself.

Then there's the next paragraph:

Again, plugging Gideon into this memory does nothing to explain it. Even if Gideon had been in the habit of sneaking up behind Harrow and attempting to choke her out—which, yikes—Harrow has already seamlessly blocked out the memory of one attempted strangulation. Then there are the phantom ropes she sees, her parents' method of suicide haunting her.

The forgetting where she was, losing time, and false memories do seem at first glance like they could be explained by the lobotomy, seeing as that is sort of the whole purpose and effect. But I'm pretty sure even these are real memories. Again, because of the focus of her attention. She's remembering having forgotten, while the lobotomy make her forget to remember.

Then there's Harrow's overall behavior. Her reactions to her hallucinations, especially in the River bubble, which imply that not all of this is new to her. She isn't shocked, or caught off-guard. She has coping mechanisms. She's figured out what evidence she can probably rely on to rule out hallucinations, and what's more likely to be suspect. A lobotomy, even a necromantic lobotomy, doesn't come with built-in tools for coping with its effects. Her memory of her past without Gideon in it is fractured and incomplete, not an entirely new life story with new life lessons.

Finally, from Nona the Ninth, some evidence that Harrow's problems with reality definitely predate the lobotomy:

Crux remembers them.

[hothothotch]

Heeey ! I have a Hotch request 😄

Context: she’s one of his first case, some young girl who hacked the Pentagone to make a point to a teacher that you don’t have to be good in class to be a genius in something. They try to arrest her but she didn’t did anything just enter their server and disconnect. But all the way into interrogation she flirts with him. They let her go and he sees her a couple years later?

I don’t know how to end this, but yeah just a thing I got in my head for a while 🥹

hey! i loved writing this one and, again, i want a part two of it, so maybe you should expect one haha. i hope you like it, anon <3

Requests are open!

1991

"I'll plead the fifth in this one..." you smirked up at Agent Hotchner, batting your eyes seductively — or as seductively as you believed you could be — as you observed him through your eyelashes, "And I'm very good at pleading, just so you know".

Aaron didn't react visibly, even though the urge to roll his eyes was definitely there. After a few minutes of interrogation (probably ten, but he wasn't sure, since you were a delight to hear — ironically speaking), Aaron had lost count of how many flirtatious comments you had thrown at him, the situation way more annoying considering that his boss, SSA Gideon, was sitting by his side, observing everything with as neutral as an expression he could have, clearly as unamused as Aaron.

"Oh, come on!" you groaned, clearly unpleased with Aaron's lack of response to your flirt, "You can laugh, right? There's nowhere on your contract saying 'FBI Agents have to be stiff and serious, even the hot ones'!".

"I don't usually laugh when interrogating someone" Aaron replied, opening up the file he had in front of him to read your name out loud, "Much less when they invade the Pentagon's system".

You tried to bit back the proud smile that showed up on your face at the acknowledgment of what you've done — you highly doubted one of those Agents would clap their hands at your achievement, and still you'd rather face them than your parents, that were probably fuming on their way to the Bureau.

If SSA Hotchner and Gideon's faces were the last things you'd see for the rest of your life (that probably wouldn't be as long as you once thought it would), you might as well fall in style.

"That was impressive, wasn't it?" you asked, your voice clearly smug as you leaned against your chair, "I'm really good at that!".

"Not that much" SSA Gideon intervened, "I can name a few hackers that can do the same".

You raised one brow in defiance, trying to mask the way his words had evidently hurt your ego, "I didn't say I'm unique, I said I'm impressive. There's a difference" you pointed in a matter-of-factly way, before turning back at Agent Hotchner, "From now on, I'm only answering your questions, pretty boy".

"It's Agent Hotchner".

You chuckled, "Okay" you nodded curtly, "Pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

That time you saw the way he reacted, his body language denouncing you was starting to frustrate him. If you didn't know it was overstepping — more than you've already overstepped — you probably would make a joke about how you could help him with his frustration, but you weren't really into going to jail over harassment.

Trying to exhaust his patience was one thing. Crossing the line between amusement and crime was something you didn't want to do.

Oh, yeah. You had hacked into the Pentagon.

"Okay, look..." you started, straightening your pose on your chair, grimacing when the metal of the cuffs (an unnecessary accessory, if you will) skimmed on your skin, a clear indicative that you'd soon have a new bruise at that spot, "I've hacked into the Pentagon, true" she directed a pointed look at Gideon, rolling her eyes, "Yes, I'm aware there are a lot of other hackers that can pull that out, but I had a point to make!".

"Which was?" Aaron questioned, his eyes still trained on you. With a quick look to his hand, you noticed he was wearing a wedding band — golden, brilliant; he was probably freshly married. You questioned if he looked at his wife in that intimidating way, or if it was reserved to people like you, or that he judged to be like you.

You took a deep breath, leaning against your chair, "I'm graduating on MIT" you started explaining, even if you knew they could find that information on your file, and that they probably already knew that, considering you'd been smart enough to hack into the Pentagon from your college's computer, but not enough to hide your tracks, "And I was unlucky enough not to get good grades at this specific subject, and my teacher made a point to humiliate me in front of everyone. So I made a point in showing her that while she's theoretically smart, I'm technically smart".

The single raise of Agent Hotchner's brow was enough to reveal what he was thinking about you after your explanation — that you were a spoiled child, that you couldn't have things any other way except for yours, that he could have you arrested solely by how bad your reasoning had been.

"Yeah, pretty Agent Hotchner boy..." you crossed your arms in front of your body, "Not everyone is born with everything on a silver plate, y'know? My attention is not as good as it was supposed to be".

Aaron switched a quick glance with Gideon, his demeanor betraying nothing as they kept their eyes locked for a few minutes, expectation suddenly building on your body along with the urge to pick at your nails, an anxious behavior you had.

"Let her go" Agent Gideon finally said, standing up from his chair, turning his back on you both to walk out of the interrogation room.

"What?" you squealed in confusion, placing the palms of your hands on top of the metallic desk you had between Agent Hotchner and you, "That's all?".

Aaron hummed in agreement, standing up to grab the cuff keys' in his pockets, his hands brushing with yours for a second, and you could swear there was a sudden electricity on that touch, causing you to push your hand away.

He looked up at you with one brow raised again, his voice a bit more humored now, "What? You want to be arrested?".

"You arrested me, pretty Agent Hotchner boy" you reminded, shaking your cuffed hands, "And while I think being cuffed is sexy, I can't wait to remove those. They're hurting my pulse".

"You should've told us, we'd lose it a bit" he shrugged, opening the lock expertly, before sitting on the desk, "You only logged into the system and turned it off. We can't arrest you for turning the computers off, so you're free to go".

You faced him for a while more, trying to find something to say, maybe a snarky remark — a joke? But nothing came to mind. So you only nodded, standing up from the chair with a smile.

"So off I go" you told him, massaging your pulses, "Guess we won't see each other again, pretty Agent Hotchner boy".

Aaron shook his head, crossing his arms, "I hope not".

"Ouch" you put your hand over your chest dramatically, "You wound me, honey. Hope you don't miss me too much".

Aaron finally allowed himself to roll his eyes, standing up from the desk to walk toward the door, "It won't be a problem".

...

2011

You were honestly — and positively — surprised when the message arrived in your inbox, the (a rather last minute) white invitation warming your heart in a way you didn't think it would.

JJ and Will were getting married.

It was a surprise not because you thought you wouldn't be invited, but because you didn't think it would happen at all; the last time you and JJ talked (only a year prior to that date), the woman had been pretty straightforward about not being ready to get married, even if Will clearly was. You were surprised to know that he supported her and it wasn't an issue, even though JJ sometimes complained about how they ended up fighting over the topic.

You were happy they finally got to an agreement. And even happier that their agreement gave her an excuse to leave her house, even for only a few hours.

"You look beautiful!" you stated once you spotted JJ on the dancefloor, bringing her for a hug when she finally recognized you.

"I can't believe you're here!" JJ held you against her body happily, and you could feel her smile on your shoulder as she rocked you from side to side, "I thought you were in Paris!".

You nodded when she pulled back, allowing you to move and embrace Will, that had a similar smile on his face, "I was. But the Pentagon called me back and I was forced to come back. Which is a loss, because I was starting to get used with the accent. And the paycheck".

Will shook his head, laughing at your last comment, "I'm sure Interpol will be missing a great Agent".

"That they will" you nodded eagerly, playfully throwing your hair over your shoulder, "I was their jewel, and now they have nothing. But I'm happy to be back home. Will be even happier when I find a good house for me, since I've sold my old house".

"Oh, that's your lucky day!" JJ commented, immediately taking your hand in hers, already guiding you through the dancefloor to a table where a few people were gathered, laughing at something one of them had said, "My friends' neighbor just passed away, and their old apartment is vacant. Maybe you can rent it".

You smiled, ready to give JJ an answer when you looked at the table again, your eyes widening at the sight of one man in the middle of the group. You froze in your place when you recognized him, your jaw slightly dropped when your eyes met, recognition clearly passing through his eyes as well.

You heard JJ saying your name, and you were fairly aware that she was introducing you to the group, though the only name you managed to hear was, "This is Aaron Hotchner, my boss, and friend".

Boss. It was curious — last time you've seen Agent Hotchner (or pretty Agent Hotchner boy, as you once called him), he was an Agent working under Jason Gideon's supervision.

Ten years had gone by, though. A lot had changed. You, to begin with.

"Oh, huh... hi!" you waved at the group, trying to pretend you had gathered any of their names, "JJ was telling me that one of you had a neighbor who had passed and may have an apartment free for me?".

Aaron — who seemed to be on a trance just as you'd been in the past few seconds — cleared his throat at your question, trying to brush away the embarrassment of how you kept looking at each other. If someone in his group noticed, though, none of them made a comment about it.

"That would be me" he stated, and you held the urge to mutter an 'of course that is', "Maybe we can talk—".

"On the dancefloor" the old man beside him suggested, nudging Aaron slightly with a mischievous smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his drink (whiskey, you deduced), "Do you like to dance?".

"Very much" you nodded, directing your response at the man who asked the question, but your eyes were focused on Aaron, "That's one of my technical skills".

If there was any doubt to Aaron that you remembered him, this doubt fade away at that exact moment — and you noticed it by the way his body language immediately changed, going from an almost nervous one to a more relaxed one.

"I guess you can show me, then" Aaron offered his hand to you, a smile appearing on his face when you immediately accepted it, guiding you back to the dancefloor, "Let's just try and not be arrested tonight, okay?".

You snorted, patting on his shoulder when the song turned into a slower one, and your eyes met one more time before you replied, "I won't make any promises".

Thank you for your request ✨

[maniiaccs]

Safety

Hii! This is my first fic here, I hope all of you enjoy it, sorry if the end feels a bit rushed or OC for Aaron, if you have any advice I will be more than happy to read it. Hope you like it!

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

(˖𓍢ִ໋🦢+⊹𐙚)

Tw:Deprecating mental health.

Aaron Hotchner finds himself at his lowest after his divorce, and after months of seeing the same therapist, he can't help but wonder if he ever felt so safe with someone else.

Word count: 2445

He knew exactly when it all went down. The day he stopped being a great boss and agent to become an aggressive and somber shell of whom he used to be. The neat and hardworking persona he put on at work became a disheveled and unapproachable figure that preferred to be alone at all times, snapping at little things that normally would've made him laugh.

He didn't feel like Aaron Hotchner anymore, he just felt like a failure, he failed as a husband, he failed as a boss, and most importantly he failed as a father. When Haley finally decided to divorce him he understood her, after all who would want a stranger as a husband; he wasn't a stranger when they met, and he wasn't a stranger when they got married; he knew Haley used to love him, she used to love the Aaron she knew, but the man she was married to nowadays wasn't someone she recognized.

But she wasn't the only one that felt that way, his colleagues couldn't comprehend his eyes anymore, they were profiles, they were aware that Aaron was gone, and Haley took him with her the day the divorce papers were sent to his office.

Jason felt bad for his long time friend, he knew what loss felt like, but seeing the someone you love building a new life without you in it?, he couldn't relate to that, but he could bet on the fact that it could be more painful to deal with, after all when someone dies you can rely on the fact that their last memories were with you, but when they live? You just become a part of them, an afterthought that maybe comes back sometimes but gets pushed away by their new special one.

Jason also knew that he couldn't be in the team anymore, his happiness also long gone. But he wanted to give his friend a last piece of advice.

-"You're not fooling anyone Aaron"

-"I'm not trying to-"

-"Stop; as your friend, I beg you to let me help you Aaron. I'm sorry, but I won't be here pretty soon, I don't want to leave you alone in this moment, but I also need to find myself again, the difference between you and me is that I know how I'm going to do it, you don't, and maybe, just maybe, talking with someone will help you" as he finished talking he gave Aaron a white card with a business number on it. And on closer inspection, he realized that it was a therapist number.

-"I won't do it. Good luck finding yourself Gideon, I wish you the best."

As he looked at the card in his hands he couldn't help but remember his friend, whom he was so cold with the last time they talked with each other; he regretted it, honestly, he regretted a lot of things he did since he lost control of his life, and he was sorry for all of it, so, to apologize to his friend in a way, he decided to go to the therapist he recommended him. It was a late decision, and he was aware, but better late than never, or at least that's what he told himself as he entered the small but cozy studio apartment used as an office, his profiler brain quickly went to analyze all the little things that were neatly placed in the office. From the dark green rug under his feet, to the small drawing the therapist had inside the front pocket of her jeans.

-"Welcome Aaron, my name is ____, I'm happy that you trust me enough to be here with me today."

She sent a reassuring smile his way, but he didn't find any strength in his to give her one back, merely nodding her way and loosening his tie the moment he started feeling the walls of the apartment closing in on him. He felt like a kid once again, when he would go to the therapist by his school request for being a problematic kid. Maybe that's why he was loosing his breath, or why his hands were shaking, he felt pathetic, an FBI agent on a therapist office, what a disgrace. He could practically hear Strauss firing him in this moment, what was he going to tell the team?, that he was, indeed, a failure with everything he did?, that he was going crazy?, that he's been in such a dark place mentally that he couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without hating what he saw in the reflection?, or maybe that the thought of sharing his self-deprecating thoughts with someone gave him panic attacks?. Oh god, he felt like he was going to vomit, was his vision clouding because he was going to faint?, no, he was going to cry, in front of a complete stranger, would she tell his superiors?. His thoughts never ending, giving him a migraine, his chest heaving with every sharp breath he took.

-"Aaron?"

She looked at him, concern clouding her expression as the man in front of her started having a panic attack in her office, he looked like he was completely lost in his mind, just like a kid would be if their emotions were too much to process for their tiny and naive brain. He looked exactly like that, like his emotions were taking a toll on him, as if he couldn't comprehend them, or maybe he could but didn't know how to come to terms with them.

-"Hey... It's okay, I know it hurts, you have to let it all out, maybe not today, or tomorrow, but we can start together, okay? You're not alone in this, Aaron, I'm here with you right now."

She took his hands in hers, giving his brain a new stimulus to focus on, placing one of them on her chest to give him instructions on his breathing, her voice soft and slow, making sure that he had the time to understand everything she was saying, now that she was crouched to his level she could see the way tears flowed from his brown eyes, it was like his body was finally freeing itself from months, or even years, of untended emotions, he was finally letting himself go, but it clearly was way too late for it not to be painful. So much time of putting himself last in his priority list, of giving everyone else everything that he had and not leaving any support for his own self. Every selfless action pulling him deeper into an abyss of darkness until he reached the bottom; and it was clear to her that the bottom was reached a long time ago.

-"Come on, let it all out, you deserve it."

Aaron could swear that in that moment he could see himself as a kid, but nor like he did when the panic attack started, no, it was different now. He felt, comforted? No, that isn't the word he's looking for. He felt safe. That's it, safe.

After that day Aaron felt like the weight of years of unresolved emotions came off of his shoulders, he couldn't thank her enough, for that day an those that came after, every week he went back to that office, no, he went back to her, to her safety, it wasn't an easy process, nor a quick one; it took time, patience and understanding to finally be able to find himself again. Now when he looked at himself in the mirror he could see Aaron, he saw himself, or a better version of himself. He could finally talk with Haley without feeling like his entire world was falling apart. Therapy made him realize that their relationship had been broken long before the divorce, but the fear of loosing what he knew was stronger that the lack of love he had for his wife.

He could also look at his team in the eyes, lead them like he used to, the connection that they had before became even stronger. The fundamental pillars in his life weren't broken anymore, he finally fixed the structure that was his mind, using the support around him to help him lift the weight of his problems instead of doing it all by himself.

Nowadays he was able to say that he was happy.

And for that he thanked the person in front of him, ____.

-"I'm so happy that your life is finally yours."

He smiled at her words; she was right, he was finally the owner of his life, he took the decisions that were best for him without apologizing to anyone. But one of the things that he realized once everything became clear in his mind was that the feelings that he had towards her weren't just professional, or fond, they went way further than that. He liked her, a lot, everytime he talked with her for the last few months he could feel his heart racing, but this time instead of panic it was pure and utter affection. He couldn't dare to call his feelings for her "love", that was one of the things he was afraid of nowadays, her rejection. The mere thought of her rejecting him made sick; but he knew that realistically their relationship was almost impossible, after all he was just one of her many patients, even if he felt special he was just another client for her and he had to come to terms with that.

-"I have to thank you for that, you gave me all the keys to help me be the best version of myself, thank you, really."

-"Oh please, I only gave you the advice, you helped yourself Aaron, if you want to thank someone, thank yourself."

With a smile on her face she thought about the months they spent working together, the memories she made with Aaron were one of the best she had; it had been so long since she felt such a strong urge to help someone that sometimes it even surprised her. As someone whose job was learning to accept their emotions and confront them in a healthy way, she knew since the beginning that the relationship that she wanted to build with Aaron wasn't the professional one that she should want to build, but she couldn't help it, the attraction that she felt towards him wasn't only physical, while getting to know him she slowly realized just how much she enjoyed spending time with him, hearing about his day, the way that they trusted eachother... She didn't do that with her other clients, and that ashamed her, what kind of therapist did that made her? clearly a bad one. Developing feelings for a client was just shameful.

-"Honestly, with all the progress you made I think that you don't need my help anymore Aaron. You're ready to do this without me, I'm sure."

That phrase broke both of their hearts, neither of them wanted to let the other go, but ____ knew that it was for the best, she was getting attached to Aaron, no, she was getting attached to her patient, and she could loose her job for that. And even though a small part of her brain told her that it would be worth it, her logical side was stronger in her decision making, after all it was her job to be able to do that, her emotions couldn't get the best of her, she had to be the logical par of those interactions, nothing else, and with Aaron that line was crossed the first day, she couldn't let that happen again.

-"No."

His voice sounded desperate, and he was, this couldn't end like that, he thought he was ready to let her go, that he knew getting away from her was the best option. But now that it became true he couldn't help the desperation building inside of him, he needed her, but not as a therapist, he needed her in his life, and if the feeling was hopefully mutual he was willing to do anything to be with her.

-"I... I can't let you go, at least not before I say this-"

-"Aaron... Don't make this any harder that it should be, please."

-"After I tell you this you have the right to do whatever you want to do, but please, let me tell you how I feel."

after a few second without any response from her part he took that as permission.

-"I know that I shouldn't feel this way about you, trust me, I do. But there's nothing I can do about it. I've never felt like this ____, whenever we talk I stop being an FBI agent, a team boss, a stuck up man that can't feel trust. When I'm with you I'm just Aaron Hotchner, a father, a friend... a man in love. When we're together I don't feel like I have to fake anything, and to this day I'm not sure about a lot of things, and I admit that it embarrases me as a grown man. But one thing that I'm sure about is that I love you ____, and I want to know how it would feel to go out with you, to have casual days with you, even to wake up with you by my side. And... If you feel the same way... Please, just please, give us a chance to be together, I'll stop being your client, I don't need you as a therapist anymore, I just need you as ____."

His heartfelt confession brought tears to her eyes, her logical side pushed away as her emotions took the best of her, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. For the first time in years she felt like logic was stupid, if logic doesn't let her be happy with Aaron, then she's going to be the most illogical person in the world. Her heart hadn't beat so fast in her life, and the fluttering feeling in her chest could be compared to a teenage kind of love. But if life with Aaron Hotchner felt like this, she wanted all of it.

-"You're not going to be my patient anymore..."

-"I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha-"

-"You're just Aaron right now, and I'm just ____, so, if you want this could be our beginning."

Once he heard those words his body moved on his own, wanting to hold her close to him, grabbing her waist in a firm but gentle grip he brought her closer to him and kissed her lips with a passion that he didn't even know he had in him.

-"This is our beginning."