#Aaron clocking them immediately

[blaithnne]

I’m sure they’re fine

[mariasont]

mariaaa!! i have another idea!! > 3 <

ok, so…

sleepy, needy, & clingy bimbo!reader with hotch

either before they together or when they first get together <3

Hot & Bothered (No, Like, Literally, You Have a Fever) - A.H.

summary: bimbo!assistant!reader is feverish, clingy & just a little delirious, except, not too delirious to shamelessly flirt with your very attractive, very exasperated boyfriend. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: sick!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, soft!hotch, flirty banter, suggestive-ish content, clingy!reader, hotch ignoring all cdc guidelines, reader is kinda being a baby about everything (just like me fr), theatre kid hotch. wc: 2.3k

You started off playing it cute. All little sighs, sending Aaron pouty texts filled with emojis, making sure he knew you missed him, but in a haha, just kidding (unless?) kind of way. Now you're way past that. The cute phase had dissolved into something far more desperate.

You were sick-sick. The terrible kind of sick where your limbs feel like they're made of granite, and your skin somehow manages to burn and freeze at the same time.

Worst of all, Aaron wasn't here.

And really, what was the point of having a boyfriend as stupidly gorgeous, painfully competent, and naturally overprotective as Aaron Hotchner if he wasn't going to be around when you need him most?

You knew you were being dramatic. You knew this was your own fault. Aaron had practically ordered you to let him come home with you, standing there in his office with his disapproving frown, telling you that you shouldn't be alone if you weren't feeling well.

But in your infinite wisdom, you had waved him off, told him to stay at work. Because at the time, you were fine. Or, more so, fine-adjacent. And because sometimes, your brain tricks you into thinking you are a capable, independent woman who does not, in fact, require Hotch-shaped supervision.

So now you're curled up in bed, drowning in the well-worn fabric of his FBI academy hoodie, the one that smells like him. And it helps. But not enough.

Because if he were here, he'd be so good at taking care of you. He'd probably be all bossy and stern about it, telling you to drink your water, go to sleep, and stop pouting. But then he'd turn around and betray himself completely by smoothing your hair back so, so softly, by tucking the blankets up to your chin like you're something delicate. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a soft side.

Maybe you should call him. Maybe you should be really, really pathetic about it and beg him to come home.

Maybe you're just a little too codependent. (Just a little.)

The second the front door opens, you think you must be imaging it. You convince yourself it's the fever, twisting reality into want instead of what actually is. Because Aaron shouldn't be home yet.

You squint at the clock, but it's just a bunch of blurry numbers, and math is already hard enough without feeling like your brain is actively melting.

But then there's the sound of leather against hardwood, and not just any leather.

You know those shoes. The custom Italian Oxfords you forced him to let you buy. He'd grumbled about the price, all exasperated and dramatic (as if he had any real concept of what good leather actually costs), but he still let you drag him to the store. Still let you lace them up for him. Still let you kiss him senseless in the parking lot because he looked too insanely sexy in them to be allowed to exist without immediate compensation.

You'd told him once that good shoes take you good places. And now look where they took him.

Straight home to you.

The relief is so instantaneous, it makes your head spin. And suddenly, he's there, shoulders broad against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes warm despite the unimpressed look he's attempting to pull off.

"My poor baby," he says, half-teasing, but mostly just achingly soft.

Your bottom lip wobbles. "It's not that bad."

Aaron sighs loudly, already loosening his tie as he strides over, assessing the damage, which, in this case, is you, buried under what is objectively a very reasonable amount of blankets.

"Uh-huh." Flat. Dry. But he's already reaching to fix them, like he can't help himself. "That why you're buried in every blanket we own?"

You burrow deeper into said blankets. Maybe if you commit hard enough, he'll stop looking so smug.

"They're comfy."

He crouches beside the bed, undoing the last button on his cuff before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. His touch is cool, and you lean into it immediately, shameless at how much you enjoy his skin against your overheated own.

"You're hot."

You blink at him, dazed, and—without thinking—mumble, "So are you."

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them. Not because they're untrue, that's indisputable, but because of the sheer pathetic delivery of it, all scratchy and pitiful and nothing like the effortless flirtation you usually bring to the table.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like that might somehow reverse time.

Aaron, of course, is completely unbearable about it. His lips twitch, and you can see it happening in real time, his struggle not to laugh directly in your face.

"Flattered," he drawls, his thumb brushing over your temple, fingers carding through your hair in slow strokes. "Have you been drinking enough water?"

You wrinkle your nose. "Water is boring."

"You're boring."

You gasp, sniffling as you try to look offended, despite the congestion ruining your tone. "Boring? You weren't calling me boring last night when I—,"

"Okay."

Aaron cuts you off immediately, already leaning down, pressing kiss after kiss to your face—forehead, cheeks, anywhere he can reach. You squeal in protest (or, well, try to, your voice is too weak for it to be truly effective), but he just laughs against your skin, relentless.

"Okay, I take it back," he murmurs, kissing your nose like an apology. Like a bribe. "You're the most exciting person I know. Now be exciting and drink some water before I have to force it down your throat."

"Force it down my throat?" you rasp, a weak smirk pulling at your lips as your fingers prod into his dress shirt. "You promise?"

"So inappropriate." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, but his hands are already cupping your face, his lips pressing to yours, like he loves kissing you too much to stop himself.

You barely have time to enjoy it before your brain remembers how sickness works.

"Wait, germs!"

Aaron just smirks, tilting your face up with a knuckle under your chin. "Since you brought up last night, that's an interesting concern, considering where your mouth was last night."

You should say something flirty in return. Something about how that was different because it was basically an act of public service (one you love providing). Because that's what you do. You throw him off, make him sigh like you're exhausting and adorable at the same time, watching his ears flush pink when he pretends he's not affected.

But the words never come, instead, your brain hands you a far worse visual. Aaron, like this, but worse. His face pale, head pressed against a pillow, forehead creased with discomfort he wouldn't acknowledge. You can see it clearly, the way he'd insist he's fine, the way he'd make it through a workday half-dead before even considering rest.

And suddenly nothing is funny.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt without thinking, like holding onto him will somehow fix the terrible, awful, no-good mental image you just had.

You're frowning, and you don't even realize it, not until Aaron does, his thumb pressing lightly against the center of your forehead, like he can smooth it away.

"I don't want you to get sick."

"My sweet girl," he murmurs, fingers threading through your hair once before he stands. "I can handle a cold. What I can't handle is you being miserable and dehydrated. Be good and let me take care of you."

Aaron disappears before you can argue and by the time he returns, a glass of water in hand, you've barely had a chance to process how much you missed him in those few seconds.

You watch as he puts it down on the nightstand beside you.

"There. Now drink."

"Yes, sir," you mumble, taking a few small sips just to prove that you're listening.

But if he really wanted you hydrated, he should've just kissed you again.

Aaron's eyes narrow, shooting you a pointed look.

You sigh, loud and put-upon, then take another sip, longer, just to appease him. You make a show out of it, before immediately reaching out, patting the empty space beside you with undeniable urgency.

Aaron snorts. "Didn't last long, did you?"

"I'm sick. I need warmth and love."

He exhales so dramatically, shaking his head. "If that's what my poor, suffering girl needs, then I suppose I have no choice."

Alright, theatre kid.

You bite your tongue, not because you're wrong, but because self-preservation is a skill, and you'd like to see another sunrise. And, fine. If he wanted to pretend like sitting still for five minutes was his own personal crucifixion, then who were you to deny him. It wasn't your fault, he ran himself into the ground, like he was trying to beat time himself, working to the bone until someone (you) had to physically drag him to bed.

You watch, maybe a little too intently, as he kicks off his shoes, undoes his belt, and swaps out his boring, stuffy work pants for the sweats. Your sweats. The ones you have a deeply personal attachment to.

You have history with those sweats.

"You know, you put those on and suddenly I start feeling a whole lot better." Call it divine intervention, maybe. "Do you think if you let me sit on your lap, I'd be at full strength again? Because I think we should at least try. For medical purposes."

Aaron settles in beside you, pressing one, two, three kisses to your lips, because he can, because he wants to. When he pulls back, he's smirking.

"Cheeky girl," he murmurs, thumb skimming your jaw. "And here I was, thinking you needed me to take care of you. Turns out you just wanted an excuse to climb all over me. How tragic. I've been completely fooled."

You brain-to-hand coordination is questionable at best, but that doesn't stop you from attempting to very subtly slip your fingers along the waistband of his sweats.

Aaron grabs your wrist instantly laughing—an actual, real, Hotchner laugh.

"Sweetheart," he muses, so damn amused, his thumb tripping over the pulse point of your wrist. "You can barely hold your head up, and you're trying to start something?"

"With a boyfriend like you, I'm like, legally required to start something."

Aaron lets out the longest, most suffering sigh known to man.

Like you said—theatre kid.

"Don't I know it. You're insatiable."

You open your mouth, fully prepared to launch into a passionate defense of you very reasonable levels of attraction to him, but a sneeze—tiny, weak, kind of embarrassing—ruins it.

Aaron's smirk evaporates. It happens fast, like a switch flipping, like he's just remembered, really remembered, that you're not at full strength, that beneath all your teasing, you're a little delicate, too easily worn down.

For a second, he just stares, jaw tight, brows furrowing ever so slightly, like the sight of you, flushed cheeks, fever-glazed eyes, pathetic sneezy, physically pains him.

And then you're moving, no he's moving, pulling you in, tucking you into his chest, as if you were something his hands were built to protect.

"And yet, here you are," he murmurs, kissing your temple, breathing against your hair, "disease-ridden and tragically adorable."

You sigh, shoving your face as close as humanly possibly, like some kind of human limpet. His heartbeat is strong beneath your ear, soothing, a constant thump thump thump that makes your eyelids droop.

"I really missed you today."

Aaron's arms tighten around you, but then you sniffle. Not the same pathetic little sound from earlier. This one's different. This one is softer, wetter.

He tenses just enough for you to feel it, enough to make you regret it, because now he knows.

You blink rapidly, tilting your face down, trying to breathe past the sudden, stupid sting behind your eyes, willing it go away before he—

Too late.

His arms loosen just enough to tilt his head down, scanning your face like he's already trying to figure out how to make it better.

You turn, burying your face in his chest. "I'm fine."

A lie. A bad one at that. So laughably transparent that even you wince a little.

Aaron doesn't call you on it, however, just pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your cheek, catching the tear before it falls.

"Oh baby," he breathes, voice a little rough, like he wants to pull the sadness out of you and keep it for himself.

He presses another kiss to your temple, then another, then another, like he needs to fix something unfixable, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck.

"You're killing me here."

You sniffle. Again.

"M'sorry," you mumble. "This is probably like... super unattractive."

Aaron shifts again, tilting your chin up as his thumb brushes against your cheek.

"Still the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he murmurs, but his jaw is tight, his fingers flexing against your skin. "I should've come home sooner."

"You wouldn't have lasted," you mumble, voice slowing, words dragging just a little.

Aaron raises an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Because you'd stress yourself out." You hum sleepily, tracing absent circles against his shirt. "You'd take my temperature every hour. Make me drink disgusting tea. Then, once you ran out of things to fuss over, you'd start deep-cleaning the grout just to feel useful."

He snorts, shaking his head. "You make me sound unbearable."

"You are unbearable," you murmur, but your grip tightens around him, contradicting yourself entirely. "But in a very sexy, very productive way."

He laughs and presses a kiss to your temple.

"You know what would make me feel better?"

Aaron's chest rises with a deep inhale, like he already knows. His arm tenses around you. "Sweetheart—,"

You grin against his shirt, weakly.

"A very hands on wellness check."

Aaron chokes out a laugh, tightening the blankets around you. "Christ."

He presses one last kiss to your forehead and you think you hear him mumble should've seen that one coming under his breath.

You hum in agreement, mentally ranking all the times he should've seen something coming.

This moment, obviously.

The time he let you fall asleep on him once and then acted surprised when it became a permanent thing.

The time he told you to be serious and then immediately realized that was the worst possible way to get you to stop joking.

The time he tried to fight it, tried to keep you at arm's length, tried to act like this thing between you wasn't inevitable.

You should tell him. You should. But then he tucks you closer, breath hot against your temple. And before you can launch into your incredibly important findings, you're already too far gone.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, thank you for being there when our fathers weren’t 🙏🙏

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: The higher ups decided that the BAU needed their own reception area so that visitors and the agents had their own friendly face whenever they come back from a case. Hotch already has a soft spot for her.

Word Count: 741

Warnings: just a little fluff for my first Hotch fic, because receptionist!reader and Hotch makes me feral

Part 2!!

When they first told her that she’d be moved from the normal reception to a special one being made for her up in the BAU, she thought that she’d been sent a spam email. Laughing it off and getting back to her baking.

Until her boss escorted her up to her new desk the next morning.

Thankfully, all her belongings had been boxed up by other staff, and had already been moved up in boxes for her to unpack. 

Her days were long, and she was routinely one of the first people in the building, which meant she had more than enough time to sort through her boxes before any of the actual team turned up for the first time.

Apparently they’d had a few issues with people getting in that weren’t the most savoury of characters. So she was moved up as an extra layer of protection before the public were allowed into the bullpen. But being on the same floor as profilers wasn’t going to stop her from decorating as she always had.

Besides, she didn’t have to share this desk with anyone, so she got the entire space to decorate herself.

Putting her box of biscuits, made and decorated the night before, on the top of the desk, she got to work. Getting into her own little world as she sorted out the boring bits first. Putting away important files she always needed to have on hand, and setting up the monitor to make sure all the information worked to let people in.

Eventually, thankfully, she got to the more fun aspects of her unpacking.

A lilac notebook, a collection of glittery pens (that, sadly, still had to be black ink), a sweet bowl since she knows how many agents have kids, and a plush lilac blanket over the back of her chair. She runs cold, and will have that over her lap if she starts to freeze.

Just as she started to unload her pretty, pastel post-it notes, there was a voice from beyond the desk.

“Are these for us?”

She shot up, hand going to her chest, thankfully also somewhat startling the man in front of her desk. At least she recognised him, SSA Aaron Hotchner, she’d been the one to sign him in most days when she worked downstairs.

Giving him a small smile as she leant over to pop the lid, the smell of shortbread biscuits immediately hitting the area and making them both hungry.

“Of course, sir, and since you’re the first here, you can have two.”

Her original shock lessened as she smiled up at the man, who did immediately take two biscuits for himself. He’d never say no to her baking again - it had made her upset and she hadn’t spoken to him for three days.

“You don’t need to call me sir, not now we work together. It’s good to have you on the floor.”

“It’s good to be here.” Smiling nervously as she shifted into her chair, the clock telling her that more people were going to start coming in soon. “I can only deal with Maria’s constant bad date stories before I go mad.”

There was that small smile on his face, one she’d seen very few times, but still made her all warm and gooey whenever she did. Brushing her hair back behind her ear and glancing away to boot up the monitor for the morning.

Looking back at him one last time, just to catch him sneaking a sweet from the pot, not even stopping when she caught him. Shoving it into his pocket and stepping away a little.

“I’ll stop by later on, make sure you’re settled.”

He nodded, as if he’d do that for anyone else, and she smiled. God. He could drown in her smile.

But as he went to walk off, she waved a hand for his attention, neither of them noticing Spencer coming through the elevator doors, freezing at seeing the interaction between them. Not sure what to make of the smile on his Unit Chief's face.

“I’ll save a biscuit, so you can take one home to Jack. I’ll sign you in, go on, you workaholic.”

Accepting and returning his little wave until she turned back to her desk with a stupidly daft smile on her face. Which she didn’t even try to dampen when she spotted Spencer, beckoning him forward.

“Morning Doctor, have a biscuit, I’ll sign you in.”

Want more?! Good!

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part seventeen

I should clarify that when I said this fic will be "another 30ish chapters" I meant 30ish in total!!! So sorry omg we don't have 30 MORE to go, that would be crazy even for me tbh, I think we've just got about 15ish more from this point on. Okay carry on 🫶🏻

Warnings: stalking, panic attack, lots of emotions and angst, hotch clocking you left and right lol, police being useless (yes that's a warning), idk if this situation would be handled this way just go w it ok, are they...flirting?

As the team digs into your life, you feel like you never have a single moment alone.

If it weren’t for the fact that you really don’t want to be alone right now, then you would be pissed. Instead, you’re grateful, and you’re relieved to have so many wonderful people to lean on.

And then there’s Hotch.

It’s not that you can’t lean on him. It’s that he never exactly gets close enough for you to, because getting close only means bickering, and the two of you hardly speak these days. It’s been just over a week since you confessed to the team, a week since Hotch told you if there’s anything he can do to help, a week since he apologized — again.

One week of the girls coming over for dinner and a movie, one week of dinner at Rossi’s house, one week of drinks at a bar after work. You’re no closer to any answers than you were last week, but you don’t mind. 

You had no idea letting your secret out would feel so relieving. It’s not at all what you were expecting.

You can’t and won’t relax by any means; you won’t be able to do that until you actually catch this unsub and figure out what his problem is.

The team can only be at your side for so much, though, so it isn’t long before the first night comes where everyone has things to get done. Meaning, you go home alone.

It wouldn’t have felt so weird if you hadn’t gotten used to someone coming with you. Tonight a strange dread settles in the pit of your stomach as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment.

“It’s fine,” you give yourself a little pep talk as you grab your purse. “You’ve come home alone so many times before. This is literally fine.”

And it is fine. Until it’s not.

Until you get to your door and see an envelope stuck in the small space between your door and the doorframe. Until you glance at the writing on the outside of it and recognize it immediately. Until you see the word.

The hallway seems to grow longer as the walls lean closer. Everything shifts, tips onto its side.

Your purse drops to the floor, the sound echoing in the hallway as your mind races to think. Think. What are you supposed to do?

You don’t know why. You don’t know what comes over you. You blame it on your shaking hands. But when you pull out your phone, you call Hotch.

He answers on the second ring, his usual tired, almost absentminded greeting, “Hotchner.”

“Aaron,” your voice is barely a whisper. You stare at the envelope until it almost doesn’t look like it exists here on this plane. “Aaron, I—”

“What happened?” He’s aware now, alert. “Where are you?”

“My apartment, I—”

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, realizing too late that he can’t see you.

“I’m coming to you,” he says, leaving no room in his tone for any protesting on your end. You hear sirens. He was already driving. 

But you don’t protest. You don’t even want to. “Okay.” Your mind slowly kicks into gear. “I need to hang up, I need to call the police—”

“What happened?” Aaron asks again. Then says, “Do you want me to call them?”

You shake your head slowly, starting to look around you at the empty hall. “No, no I can—”

“Give me one second.” 

You don’t have it in you to argue. You hear him put you on hold, and it feels like hours pass before his voice returns, though you know it’s barely been two minutes.

“Police are on their way,” he says. “Are you inside?”

“I’m outside my door, I—” Your eyes land on the envelope again, the handwriting. “I can’t go in.”

“Why?”

“There’s a note,” every word that passes through your lips feels foreign and sounds wrong on your tongue. “It’s in my door.”

“Don’t touch it,” he says firmly.

“I wasn’t going to.” If you were feeling better, it would’ve held more heat to it.

“I know,” he exhales. “Do you have your gun on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he sounds relieved, but you don’t know why. You’re in no state to shoot anything right now. You don’t know that you could even get the safety off if you tried, that’s how bad your hands are shaking. “Just stay where you are, I’m two minutes away.”

Two minutes? Already? “Don’t hang up.” You don’t know why you say it.

“I won’t,” he answers easily, not at all bothered by it. “Not until I see you.”

“Okay.”

“Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“Aaron, I’m really not in the mood—”

“Humor me.”

You sigh. The panic is starting to melt away, so this really isn’t necessary, but still you humor him. “The note. My door. My shoes. My doormat. My neighbor’s plant that they really need to water.”

He chuckles, the sound barely there. “Four things you can touch?”

“My gun,” you start, placing your hand over the weapon just for the sake of knowing it’s there. “My shirt. The wall. My hair.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“Your breathing,” you say without hesitation. He shuts his car door. “My voice. The light down the hall buzzes constantly, they should really fix it.”

“Two things you can smell?” he continues. You hear the tap of his footsteps before you hear him in the stairwell. 

“My neighbor’s cooking. The cleaner Lucia uses when she comes by.”

Aaron’s voice echoes on the phone and into the hall when he finally finds you. “One thing you can taste?”

“I wish I could taste my neighbor Alex’s cooking,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood as much as you can as Aaron approaches you, phones still pressed to your ears. You hang up first. “Thanks.”

He tucks his phone away with an almost imperceptible nod, jaw set and eyebrows furrowed.

Is he…bothered about the fact that you called him?

You study him with narrowed eyes as he looks at the note, craning his neck as he examines it closely.

You pick your purse up off the floor, rummaging around in it. “You can go,” you say as you look for some gum, “if you have other things you need to be doing.”

“I don’t,” he says.

You find the gum and pop one into your mouth, letting the minty taste settle over you and calm your shot-to-hell nervous system. “You could at least try to look like you aren’t annoyed about being here.”

“I’m not annoyed that you called me,” he says, voice calm. So calm that it’s actually starting to annoy you. “Why do you think I’m upset that you called?”

“Why are you turning this around on me?” you counter. You nod your head at the note, changing subjects. “See anything odd? Other than the handwriting being the same, and it’s got Gambit on it.”

“No,” Hotch shakes his head. “We’ll have to take a closer look at it.” He pauses, eyes studying you in a way you don’t like. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you huff, crossing your arms. “As fine as one can be when they come home to a note in their door from their stalker, apparently.”

You shift under his gaze. He won’t stop looking at you and you’re five seconds away from yelling at him to cut it out.

You don’t get the chance, though, before two police officers are coming up the stairs. And then they start asking Hotch all the questions.

“It’s her apartment,” he says flatly, directing them toward you. “I’m just the one who called.”

“Got it, so you’re the husband?” one officer asks.

“No,” you both say almost instantly, equally as deadpan. 

“Like I said on the phone,” Hotch continues, tone bordering on vicious, “we’re federal agents. This is her apartment—”

“If you’re federal agents, what do you need us for?” the other officer gives Hotch a dumbfounded, almost exasperated look.

Hotch stares at both of them tiredly. “Would you like to speak to the front desk and check the cameras?” He words it as a question, but it is not one.

“We can’t do that without—”

The glare Hotch levels at them is downright lethal.

“Alright,” the officer immediately corrects himself. “I’ll go check the cameras.” He nudges his partner. “Get that note in an evidence bag so it can be checked for prints.”

“We’ll have it sent to be checked at Quantico,” Hotch says firmly. “It will be faster and we need to check the federal database.”

The officer sighs. “Just do what he says.”

As the officers leave to speak to the front desk and retrieve the evidence kit, Hotch takes out his phone.

“What are you doing now?” you mutter.

“You can’t stay here.”

That sends you reeling all over again. “What?”

“You’re not staying here,” he repeats.

“Hotch, this is my apartment.”

“I know that,” he says without looking up. “But you aren’t staying here, not when the unsub clearly knows where you live. He walked right up to your door.”

“Good. Let him try to do it when I am home, see how that works out for him.”

“No,” Hotch says firmly, looking up from his phone. “That’s putting your life at risk unnecessarily.”

“You can’t kick me out of my apartment, Hotch.”

“I’m not,” he hisses. “But you need to stay somewhere more secure.”

“So? Where exactly are you proposing? Because no way in hell am I staying with y—”

“I’m texting Dave,” Hotch interrupts, clearly sensing where you were going with that train of thought. “He’s in a gated community, and he has the best security system on the market in his house. You’ll be safe there.”

“But—”

“I’m not arguing about this, I’m sorry,” Hotch says. “I won’t let you stay here while this unsub is out there.”

As much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. Clarity comes and you realize it. You don’t have any security system in your apartment, just your two deadbolts, and the occasional bar that you prop under the door handle on your particularly paranoid nights. The apartment complex isn’t even that secure; anyone can walk up the stairs. You’re an easy target if you stay here, and that’s exactly what the unsub wanted to show you by putting the note in your door. He wanted you to see how close he can get, to see how much closer he could get the next time.

You begin to wonder if the unsub has walked right up to your door many times before this, just left no trace, so you never knew. How long has he known that you live here?

“I’m at least packing some things,” you say, almost out of nowhere.

Hotch slowly looks up from his phone. “Yeah…yeah, of course.”

You nod once, effectively ending that conversation. He’s clearly shocked you saw reason and aren’t protesting anymore, but you’ll be dead before you ever admit that he’s right about something to his face.

The officer returns to retrieve the note and promises to send it off to Quantico. Hotch says he’ll call ahead to let them know to expect it at the lab.

The partner that went to look at the cameras returns with a shrug. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

Hotch stares a hole through the guy, his jaw ticking. “Fine. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to report—”

“Just go,” you reply tiredly, ready for this to be over. “It’s fine.”

The officer leaves you with his card, but you know you won’t be using it. You shove it into your purse all the same with a huff.

“I’ll have Garcia look into the footage,” Hotch says as you both step into your apartment. 

You nod absently, tossing your purse down on the counter when it hits you.

Hotch. Is in your apartment. He’s never been over to your place before — because why would you invite him? — and now he’s here. Standing in the entryway. 

It seems to hit him right when it hits you because he freezes as soon as he shuts the door. His eyes flick up to yours.

You give him a tired stare. “You could at least try not to look like I’m holding you hostage.”

He straightens up, tries and fails to soften the tension around his eyes and shoulders. “I’ll wait here.”

You almost let him.

But because you’re not a monster, and because you don’t know how long you’ll take with packing, you gesture into the living room. “I have a perfectly good couch. I’ll be insulted if you decide to stand the whole time.”

The corner of his lips barely tug upward. “Alright. Thank you.”

“I’ll try not to take too long,” you say as you head for your room. “I’ll just throw some things together.”

“Take your time,” he says, his voice following you before he turns and heads for the couch.

You check your bedroom window just in case, finding it still securely locked. Your closet is empty. So is the bathroom. Which means the unsub truly must’ve walked up to your door, tucked the note, and left.

Sure, he’s playing a game, but why is he taking so long? Why drag this out?

Again and again, you come back to the same question: who the fuck is this guy?

You try to focus on what you can control right now, which is packing your things. You pull your smaller suitcase out and throw it onto your bed, looking to your closet.

You blink once before the tears come.

You can’t even say that they happen for no reason, or that they come out of nowhere, because with everything happening in your life — and everything that has happened in your past — you have more than enough reason. You should expect this. How you don’t break down at every stroke of the hour is a wonder even to you some days.

Instead, it happens like this, somewhat randomly and quietly. Although this has to be a first, crying silently because your boss is in your living room, waiting for you to get your shit together.

You bury your face in your hands, allowing yourself this wallowing for just a single moment. It’s longer than you can afford, and much shorter than you need to feel better, but it’s all you can do.

The moment passes and you have to pick yourself up. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and get to work throwing clothes into your suitcase. You know this feeling well. The need to flee. Acting on it. Packing your things at a moment’s notice is no strange thing to you.

It doesn’t make it any easier.

You take one look at yourself in the mirror before you head back out with your suitcase.

“Ready?” you ask, rolling right past Hotch on the couch and grabbing your purse.

You hear him stand and walk over, feeling his eyes all over you. You guess this is the first time he’s seeing you out of work clothes and in leisure wear, but you don’t care.

“Were you crying?”

Your eyes betray you even as you look at the ceiling, trying to blink more tears away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not.”

“Aaron,” you say, voice small. Pleading. You look over at him and shake your head. Please. Not right now.

He nods, reaching for your suitcase. 

“I can get it,” you say, moving to stop him.

“Please,” he says, voice almost just as small as yours. “Let me.”

You back off. You aren’t sure why. But you decide to let him take your suitcase.

“You’ll need to leave your car here for now,” he says. “If he’s watching, we need him to think you’re still living here.”

“Oh, but the suitcase won’t make him think anything?” you deadpan, always eager to poke holes in Hotch’s logic when you can.

“It’s small,” Hotch shrugs, lifting it up. “And you’ll be leaving with me.”

Oh. Right. You see what he’s implying now.

“I’ll try not to look like I want to kill you, then.”

You can see Hotch’s smirk this time. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 02.

wednesday

ꕥ part 01. | part 03. | part 04. | part 05. | part 06. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~3.5k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

“Eek, this is like a group vacation.” Her quick, light claps accompanied Garcia’s excited squeal. Her bright, energetic demeanour seemed to lift everyone’s mood, which was below average that early afternoon on a cloudy Wednesday. The reason was mostly that they were all tired from the mission on the previous day. Also, the fact that a one-and-a-half-day road trip was ahead of them didn’t really help either.

As soon as they clocked in to work that day, Hotchner greeted them with the rather unfortunate news that in order to avoid any suspicion, they’d have to travel on the road and not with the private jet, which meant a roughly 35-hour-long drive. The Bureau was kind enough to provide the team with a minibus and three assigned FBI agents as drivers so they wouldn’t have to take turns behind the wheel.

“Did Morgan manage to kick down fewer doors in the previous month or what?” you asked jokingly as you watched the biscuit-coloured vehicle roll up to the team. The Bureau was constantly up in your asses with the monthly budget and how expensive it was sometimes to fund the unit. They were so stingy that it became a joking material between you.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” rolled his warm, chocolate brown eyes the mentioned man as he lightly punched your shoulder.

The truth is this wasn’t out of generosity. It was more of a tactical investment, recommended by the anti-trafficking unit. If it were up to the Bureau, you’d be crammed up in those notorious black SUVs for almost two days straight. But the dark vehicles became so known for belonging to law enforcement personnel that if the host or some guests from the auction saw them, the BAU would immediately get noticed and the mission would be a failure.

“So, Hotch” spoke Reid not so far from you who was strangely silent this morning. “We are going to spend the night at some hotel, I assume.”

“Yes. This way we will arrive at Flathead Lake either tomorrow night or Friday morning, depending on the traffic.” nodded your boss. He informed you that the briefing will take place on the bus since the anti-trafficking unit - who invited the team to help with the case – gathered some new information about the owner of the lakeside mansion where the auction will take place. While you infiltrated yesterday’s gala, they also put together a somewhat solid plan. Luckily, the BAU didn’t have to do everything all by themselves, they got joined up with competent people.

You quickly ran your gaze through the whole team. There was Hotchner, Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, Morgan, Garcia, Reid and of course, you. An even number of people. Meaning everyone had to share rooms with someone. You were more than sure that the “dads” – as in Aaron and David – would share one, just like Emily and Jennifer. There wasn’t any question about it. Now came the bigger problem, which was the Morgan-Garcia duo. If they were to share a room, it would only leave you with the doctor. Oh God no. You definitely can’t let that happen.

The minibus was the smallest possible one out there with 12 seats maximum, plus the seat of the chauffeur. This looked worse and worse for you by the minute. Of the three drivers, one was obviously behind the wheel, and the other two were occupying 2-2 front-row seats so they could rest properly. Leaving exactly eight seats for the team, so nobody had the opportunity to sit alone.

“So, Pen…” you hugged the woman next to you with one of your arms and had a Cheshire cat kind of smile on your face.

“Absolutely not” objected Derek, shaking his head before the flamboyant blonde diva could even take a breath. “There is no chance in hell that I’d sit next to Reid for around 40 hours. Babygirl is with me, so don’t even try. And I’m also sharing a room with her.”

“But…”

“Get your asses moving, guys” called for you already from the bus Emily. The rest of the team was waiting for only the three of you. As you placed your foot on the thin steps of the light-coloured vehicle, you silently prayed that someone, out of pure coincidence, decided to sit next to Dr Pain-in-the-ass Reid. The cleanly designed door of the modern bus silently shut behind you while you quickly scanned the insides. Since you were the last to get on board, there was only one unoccupied seat in the third window row… Next to your unpleasant co-worker. Of course, where else? At this point, you felt like God was testing you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him, but there was always some underlying tension between you, and you felt like you were constantly on edge around him. The subtle rivalry was exciting, of course. You were a very competitive person by nature. But still, you felt like you were under a microscope, getting dissected by his curious, watchful eyes each and every time you were in the same place. You weren’t friends, not even close to that, in your opinion. Simply co-workers who were a bit too similar in some ways and exhaustingly different in others.

Reid was sitting in the aisle seat. His thumbs played with the edge of the case folder, which was on his lap while he leaned back in his seat with closed eyes. He tried to shut out the lively group for a moment and get 8 hours of sleep done in 2 minutes.

“Hey…” you were the one who pulled him out of his somewhat meditative state as you awkwardly stood next to him. “Could you let me in?” you pointed at the empty seat.

For a moment, he didn’t really react, just looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. He was slightly taken aback. Of course, there was a high possibility of you two having to sit next to each other. However, he thought that due to the complicated relationship that you had – which oftentimes was the cause of heated arguments -, someone would do the whole team a favour and take the place next to him. But no. Everyone seemed to stick with whom they were the closest with. This was reasonable, given that suffering through 1 and a half days of travelling would be even worse if you’re by the side of someone you aren’t that close with.

In a sense, the BAU was like a family, yes. During their years of work, they crossed the river Styx and came back countless times. They’ve seen Hell unleashed. They’ve experienced how cruel and disgusting human nature can be. But they did it together. And this created an unbreakable bond between them. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other.

Now, sitting in one place for around 40 hours crammed up in a small space is an entirely different question. Everyone gets bored, grumpy and annoyed easily. It’s safer to stick with the person you’re especially comfortable with, even amongst them.

Reid quickly collected his thoughts. He wasn’t feeling like he was in his element, and it bothered him. He couldn’t lose against you. Not even in a non-existent competition about which one of you is handling this cooler.

“Be my guest,” he smirked but didn’t move an inch.

“Are you serious right now?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest as you looked him in the eyes with a challenging spark in your irises. The bus slowly moved under you, making you stumble a bit. His smirk turned into a grin as he slid down in his seat, making himself more comfortable.

“Everyone, I’d like to start the briefing,” you hear Hotch’s voice through the bus’s speaker since he used the microphone at the front. They were waiting for you to sit down finally.

“I won’t hesitate to step and walk all over you,” you tried to sound as serious as possible, hoping that by asserting your dominance, he’d stand up and let you in.

“Kinky” came the unserious comment from JJ who was in one of the backseats, causing the more unserious half of the team to chuckle.

“Guys, please,” your boss tried to take control of the situation while the little asshole next to you was just smiling smugly. This was your last straw. You took a deep breath and lifted your left leg over his lap, so your back was facing him. This situation was so embarrassing that you couldn’t possibly face him and remain collected.

Since the trunk was placed there, the ceiling above the seats was low, you had to kind of sit down to be able to squeeze yourself in. So, for a few excruciating moments, you were in his lap.

“I swear to fucking God one of us won’t get off of here alive, and it won’t be me” you murmured, your voice was filled with anger as you finally wiggled your way through the obstacle, being a literal grown-ass man. You didn’t even notice that the sound of his irritating chuckle was absent. He severely miscalculated things with this stunt that he pulled. You were so close to him. So damn close. He could smell the pleasant mix of your soft, sweet perfume and your shampoo lingering in the air. It wasn’t too strong, nothing over the top. You mostly used things that had natural scents, either from flowers or fruits. Things that smelled like candy, or anything overly artificial usually gave you a headache so you tended to avoid those. He probably wouldn't have noticed it if you weren’t that close. But now, as the gentle aroma filled his nose, it became impossible not to think about it. Also, the fact that he could’ve just reached his hands out and grabbed your hips when you sat down for a flickering moment on his thighs was an image he was hardly able to ignore.

But alas, you finally got to your seat and Hotch was able to start going through the developments of the case with the assistance of the one and only Penelope Garcia. “I’m sorry to say this, my lovelies, but the mansion is equipped with the best security system anyone could ever dream of. On top of that, the private guards hired are employees of the most elite and most efficient security agency worldwide. I don’t think it’d be possible for you to sneak in,” she said while she sent files and pictures to your tablets. “Being wired is also risky. Plus, there is the problem of no weapons, no vests, no nothing.”

“So, we're just going to raw dog this mission the way God intended?” you clicked your tongue as you said the rhetorical question mostly to yourself, causing Derek, who was sitting behind you, to snort.

“Well, one of us is definitely going in ra…” Emily’s sly smile matched her unserious tone perfectly. You could envision a crystal-clear picture of her face with a playful glimmer in her eyes. Not even a day went by since the undercover mission with your boss, so it was obvious none of them were going to let the topic go.

“Prentiss.” Hotchner’s deep, warning grunt came from the front seats as firm advice for your best friend to think carefully about whether she’d like to continue her sentence or not. You let out an awkward laugh as you pressed your forehead to the back of the seat in front of you. When the others quieted down, your boss continued. “Luckily, the anti-trafficking unit was able to get information about the staff working on the event. Morgan, Reid. You and a few agents from the other unit are matching their descriptions. They were all pursuable to give their shifts over to us. Garcia will send you detailed information about them, so you’ll be able to blend in as much as possible.”

This seemed logical so far. It was clear as day that you couldn’t send in Emily, JJ or Rossi since they were more or less public figures. Rossi was a well-respected author, JJ was the liaison of the team who later became a full-fledged agent, and Emily was known for her international contacts.

“We know that there are even politicians and CEOs joining the event. This will be an awfully low-risk crowd in one place at the same time. Wouldn’t they be more throughout with the workers too?” shook his head Spencer making his light brown wavy locks bounce slightly. He let his hair grow longer, giving his characteristic face a perfect frame. It took some time to collect himself, to tame the rushing thoughts that were so out of character for him. He honestly didn’t understand his reaction. Why did he freeze at the smell of you? Why did those sharp images appear in his mind out of the blue? What the hell was wrong with him?

Countless thoughts occupied his outstanding brain, making him somewhat irritated. Ever since they started working on the case, he felt like every single factor was against them. With politics involved, it was almost impossible to gain the upper hand, moreover, the team was at a bigger risk than usual. And now this too?

“Well, I’m sure the host will be. But the other rich assholes don’t give a fuck about anyone lower than them, let’s be honest. Moreover, I could also imagine that the staff is the responsibility of an employee of the host, not even the host himself.” you didn’t even realize that you went against his judgement, it came so naturally, almost as an instinct. But you opposed him, again. He turned his head towards you, a stern, stoic expression on his face, one of his eyebrows slightly raised.

By this time, your head was also in the game. You quickly collected yourself after the embarrassing moment with Reid and your teammates' comments. The latter one wouldn’t have bothered you, but since you were already awkward and your face was all hot and red, the girls’ remarks were like gasoline to the fire. But you couldn’t let this bother you for a long time. You worked too hard to get to where you are right now. You loved your job and were great at it. You loved the team too, more than anything. That bastard next to you couldn’t possibly gain the upper hand so easily over you.

“Are all the victims kept in the mansion?” took over the word Rossi. His eyes were slightly narrowed as he stared at the documents on the flat electronic device in his hands.

“According to the anti-trafficking unit’s information, over the years, Jonathan Grace, our host this weekend, brought most of the land around the northern area of Flathead Lake through different, hardly traceable accounts and he has properties all around the area. There is a big chance that the victims are held captive in all locations, making it harder for them to unite and attempt escaping.”

This was making things even harder. Now, there was a huge possibility of the victims not even being at the same place at the same time, making rescuing them in one organised attempt almost impossible.

“There are an awful lot of things that could go sideways,” Derek’s sigh was filled with worry and annoyance. He hated nothing more than when politics got in their way. In humanity’s way. This whole thing was bullshit. Proceeding with caution when hundreds of people were forcefully stripped of their freedom, their free will, and their lives, just because politics made this case a delicate one?! It almost seemed as if the actual victims hardly mattered, the only important thing was not to get damaged by an influential asshole. Of course, he knew that it wasn’t the situation with the team, but the outside looked very much like it. If it was up to him, he would’ve raided all of Grace’s properties with a bunch of SWAT members and got everyone out immediately. But he also knew that the moment the traffickers smelled something fishy, they’d disappear without a trace and reorganise somewhere else, continuing their activities, destroying people’s lives while not even being on the radar anymore. He would’ve ruined months, even years of hard work for the AT unit. Not to talk about any future victims he wouldn’t be able to save. So, logically speaking, he understood perfectly why they were handling everything so carefully and second-guessing each of their ideas, but it still infuriated him.

“Will there be units at every building Grace owns?” you asked. You habitually turned over and over the single ring on your ring finger as a subtle method of stimming. You were anxious because of the case. It was impossible not to be.

“Obviously,” came the kind of condescending reaction from, you guessed it right, Reid. “That was kind of a dumb question, Y/N, don’t you think?” he was facing you, his head slightly tilted downwards to look you in the eyes, since he was significantly taller even while sitting. A small smile was plastered on his face, making your blood boil even more. You weren’t even on the road for half an hour and already wanted to choke him to death.

“Yeah, I decided to take one for the team and ask the stupid question early on so you could correct me and get your daily bitching done,” you nodded your tone full of fake sympathy.

“Is it really daily bitching or you’re just constantly making mistakes?” he clapped back immediately while wearing a passive-aggressive smile on his patronising, punchable face.

“Ah, here we go again,” came Morgan’s grunt from behind you.

“Last time I checked I had more solved cases than you, thanks to my so-called mistakes.”

Ah, yes. Solved cases. Obviously, none of the successful ones were thanks to a singular person, everything you do is a team effort. However, since both of you were competitive as hell, you had this unsaid game going on between the two of you. Whoever’s leads or ideas proved the most useful during an investigation could take that case as their own.

“Kids.” This time the eldest was the one whose warning voice caused you to stop.

×××

The next four or five hours went by quietly. After Rossi put an end to your bickering, both of you stayed in line. We could even say, you acted as normal, reasonable adults. The briefing went on for an hour more but after that, everyone became silent and absolved in the files.

The time for the first toilet break came when the bus parked at a resting stop. You pulled the earphones out of your ears and stretched in your seat. As you arched your back, the salmon-coloured button-up shirt that you were wearing tightened a bit around your upper body, perfectly outlining your otherwise hidden curves. Your movements weren’t provocative, not even in the slightest. It’s just Spencer who’s been finding himself in these weird scenarios where he suddenly noticed everything about you.

Of course, you were pretty, he was very well aware of this fact from day one. But now it seemed like this piece of information was actively in his mind for some unknown reason.

“Will you let me out or do I have to crawl over you again?” you turned with your upper body towards him and leaned a bit closer. The others were in the middle of leaving the bus, so nobody gave much attention to you, luckily.

He also leaned towards you, and swallowed his saliva before answering, making his Adam’s apple quickly rise and fall. “Whichever one you’d prefer more.”

“Move your ass then,” you urged him as you looked directly into his pretty, light brown eyes that had hints of green in them, seemingly unaffected by what he said. He kept eye contact while his pupils slightly dilated but didn’t say a thing. For a quick, unnoticeable moment his brows got furrowed and his jaw tightened but this expression disappeared as soon as it came. Without a word, Spencer stood up and left the vehicle with quick-paced steps. He felt like even the air got tighter around them in the small space. Must be the fault of the tiny bus.

thank you so much for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! divider from @cafekitsune

[winterscaptain]

insight.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: everyone wanted to see dave! enjoy! this is set right after hide, if you want to check that one out first.

beta'd by @ssaic-jareau who is probably best described as a co-writer at this point.

words: 800 content advisories: none. fluff and emotional whiplash. summary: “love has a way of wilting or blossoming at the strangest, most unpredictable hour.” — suzy kassem. january 17th, 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist (under construction) | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

The January wind bites, sharp and unforgiving, as you cross the courtyard. You tug the scarf higher over your nose, trying to trap what little warmth you have. It still smells like him, and the thought makes you smile a little against the fabric.

The music in your ears drowns out everything else—the hum of voices from passing agents, the distant honk of a car locking at one of the loading docks. You don’t mind.

The walk across campus is a welcome stretch of time where no one needs anything from you, where you don’t have to think about grading or casework or the subtle exhaustion that lingers under your ribs no matter how much sleep you get.

And added bonus? You can think about Aaron all you want, smile about it all you want, and there’s nobody here to tease you about it.

You bop your head along to the beat, half in your own world, and don’t notice the two men watching you from across the way.

+++

He clocks you immediately, mid-conversation with Dave, his attention snapping to you the moment you enter his line of sight. You’re moving like you have a soundtrack, completely at ease with your headphones on, wrapped up in one of his old GWU scarves like it belongs to you.

Dave follows his gaze and barely bites back a smirk, answering an unasked question. “She and Morgan picked up teaching some courses at the academy while a couple of adjuncts are on leave.” He flicks a glance toward Aaron, measuring his reaction. “They really stepped up while you were gone. Did a lot of good work.”

Aaron says nothing. Just watches.

You don’t see them. You’re too caught up in whatever song is playing, completely unaware that Aaron’s entire world has just narrowed down to you. The way you walk, the way you mouth along to the lyrics, the way you smile at something—some thought, some lyric—just for yourself.

Dave hums, feigning curiosity. “I wonder what she’s listening to—y’know, Morgan and Prentiss were giving her crap about it the other day.”

Aaron barely registers the words. “Hm.”

Dave huffs a quiet laugh. Set the trap.

“You should ask her when you get home tonight.” He keeps his voice casual, just light enough to sound like an afterthought. “Bet she’d tell you.”

Bait placed.

Aaron nods before he can stop himself, already thinking ahead to how fun it might be to sit behind his iMac and mess around with playlists this weekend. “I might. I can add to—” His breath catches. His whole body tenses.

Trap sprung.

Shit.

Dave grins.

Aaron exhales sharply, knowing exactly what just happened.

Dave claps him on the shoulder. “Gotcha. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I lost the bet last year.”

Aaron blinks. “Last year?” He appears to short circuit, lines appearing between his brows. “What bet?”

Dave shrugs, smug as ever, and does not address any of his questions. “You moved in together after Christmas, right?”

Aaron doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to.

Dave just nods, looking way too pleased with himself. “Best profiler you’ve ever met, remember?”

Yesterday was a trap. How long has he been playing along with the others?

Before Aaron can respond, someone stops you.

A voice calls your name, pulling you out of your bubble. You startle slightly, pausing mid-step to tug your headphones down around your neck.

Aaron watches, helpless to do anything else.

It’s an agent from another unit—one you know in passing. She says something, and you laugh. Not just a polite chuckle, but a real laugh, bright and unguarded, like the cold doesn’t even touch you. It carries across the courtyard. You wind and unwind the end of the scarf around your hand as you talk, absentmindedly playing with the fringe.

Aaron feels it like a punch to the ribs.

He knew he missed you. Of course, he knew. But this—seeing you like this, out in the world, so you—it’s something else entirely. It’s been hitting him randomly, the summer without you, the memory of it. His fingers flex, his breath catches, and God help him, he almost forgets where he is.

Dave glances sideways, smirks, and shakes his head.

“If we hurry, we can beat her back,” he muses, tone light but knowing. “I’m thinking a fresh coffee and a full water bottle wouldn’t hurt. Score some points in advance. You’ll need ‘em later.” He claps Aaron on the shoulder. “Trust me.”

Aaron drags in a breath, eyes still locked on you.

Then, without a word, he turns on his heel and heads for their building.

Dave grins. Yeah. That’s what I thought.

+++

tagging: @duchesschameleon @sochalant @chronicallybubbly @derekluvbot @jhiddles03 @soupyamanda @percysley @viennasolace @youngcowisland @beyscape @reidfile @littlemisskavities @lostinthefandoms11 @angelicgh0st

[believemedarlin]

The Perfect Man

Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued

***

A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.

***

“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded. 

“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”

Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.

A mere ten seconds later you caved. 

“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”

She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod. 

Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”

“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.

It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.

They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.

They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand. 

Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”

Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.

You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.

“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”

The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter. 

JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”

“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”

You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”

“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”

Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”

All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.

Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.

“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”

The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…” 

You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”

Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”

"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”

Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”

You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?” 

“You’re forgiven.”

“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”

You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”

Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”

Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.

“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”

“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.”  Penelope teased.

“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, I do.”

She cheered and called for another round of drinks.

The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.

You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.

“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”

The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”

“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.

You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”

You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?

“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”

All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind. 

“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…” You sighed again.

“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”

At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”

“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”

You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”

Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.

“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her. 

“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”

You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”

Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”

“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink. 

“What about lips?”

You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”

Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”

“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”

“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.

“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”

“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”

You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”

You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.

“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”

“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”

“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”

A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.

Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”

You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”

Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.

The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.

You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.

“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”

You blinked. “What? I did not.”

She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”

You sputtered, not sure how to reply.

She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”

JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.

You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.

You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.

There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.

No way at all.

***

The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.

As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.

No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.

You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.

Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.

You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.

He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”

You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.

“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”

Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.

He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.

But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.

You froze and blinked again at the realization.

“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.” 

You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.

His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.

You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.

You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.

Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.

Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.

You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.

Oh, you were in so much trouble.

***

Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.

His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.

He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.

He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man. 

Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.

But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.

You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.

Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.

Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.

He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.

He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.

He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.

His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.

Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.

He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.

He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.

But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.

After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not. 

Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier. 

You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.

In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.

But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.

You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.

He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.

He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.

He was completely and utterly smitten with you.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it. 

Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

ahhhh! i was the anon who requested the most recent hotch!daughter fic! tysm for writing that. the most adorable thing ever <3!!!

is it ok to have a sort of follow up on that fic? maybe reader comes back and forces hotch and all the bau members to play princess tea party with her during their lunch break haha?

Aaron Hotchner X Young Daughter Reader Pt 2

Request : ahhhh! i was the anon who requested the most recent hotch!daughter fic! tysm for writing that. the most adorable thing ever <3!!!

is it ok to have a sort of follow up on that fic? maybe reader comes back and forces hotch and all the bau members to play princess tea party with her during their lunch break haha?

Start of recap...

Following his arm Hotch breathed a sigh off relief as he saw where Y/N had got to, smiling he watched his daughter laugh and play with the young doctors hair.

He was glad she was okay and made a new friend. Quickly taking a few pictures he sends them to Haily who messaged back just a quick. "Some one made a new friend" chuckling he responded. "I think they both made a new friend"

Putting his phone away he went back to his office, happy to leave his daughter in his agents capable hands.

End of recap...

Third person pov...

A couple months after Hotch and Haily get a divorce. Haley has the kids most of the time and Hotch gets visitation rights, little Y/N loves spending time with her Daddy.

It was a typical day at the FBI academy for Aaron Hotchner, the team's stoic leader.

As they were reviewing their case files and strategizing for their next case, Hotchner's phone rang. He picked it up and on the other end was his ex-wife, Haley.

Hotchner's heart skipped a beat as he heard the sound of his two-year-old daughter, laughing in the background.

The spending if her voice grew louder, she had come closer to the phone.

"Hi daddy!" She squeals as she sees his contact. Hotch let's a smile fall on his lips. "Hi baby, you want to spend the day with me and the team?" He asks the young girl.

Hotch immediately pulls the phone far away from his ears as his Daughter screams in joy shouting into the phone. "Yes yes yes!" Hotch laughs at how excited the little girl sounds.

After getting the phone back, Haley explained that their original babysitter had called in sick and she had an important meeting she couldn't miss, Jack had school so She asked if Aaron could take care of Y/N for the day.

Despite his busy schedule, Hotchner couldn't say no to spending time with his daughter. He quickly made arrangements for Y/N to come to the BAU office and inform the team that they would have a special guest for the day.

As the clock struck 12, Agent Hotchner was in his office, going through files when suddenly he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in" he called out, not looking up from his work.

To his surprise, it wasn't one of his team members, but his 2 year old Daughter

Y/N standing in front of him with a huge smile on her face.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, running towards him.

"Hey, Princess have a safe trip" Hotch asked, lifting her up in his arms. The energetic girl smiled and hugged his neck. "Yep I did, can we play daddy?" she asks the man, giggling.

Hotch chuckled, "i'm sorry sweetie, but Daddy has to work right now. Maybe later, okay?" The H/C girl pouted, but before Hotch could say anything else.

she suddenly let out a loud giggle and ran out of his office. Hotch shrugged, thinking it was just a phase and went back to his work.

But 5 minutes later, he heard more giggling and the sound of his door opening again.

This time, it was the whole BAU team following Y/N who was dressed in a pink princess dress with a tiara on her head.

She was holding the young Dr's hand who was smiling, Y/N still loved Spencer the most apart from her Daddy of course

"Hotch, we have a problem" Rossi said, a serious look on his face but trying to hold back his laughter.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, "What's going on?" Everyone one of them after trying to keep a straight face.

"Morgan found this little princess wandering around the bullpen, claiming that she was here to play with you" JJ explained, trying not to laugh

Before he could say anything, Y/N ran towards him and tugged on his shirt. "Daddy, I wanna play tea party with you and your friends!"

Hotch looked at his team, trying to hide his amusement. But seeing their pleading faces, he knew there was no way he could deny his daughter's request.

"Okay, just for a little while" Hotch said, putting the little girl down and joining the others in the break room.

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement as she dragged Spencer out of her Daddies office and to the found table room.

She then passed out plastic tea cups and saucers to everyone. "You're the queen, Daddy!" She said, placing a tiara on Hotch's head.

The team couldn't help but laugh as they pretended to sip imaginary tea and have conversations with the little princess.

They even played make-believe with her, pretending to be princes and princesses in a magical kingdom.

Hotch was the Queen, Rossi was the King, Y/N of course was a Princess, Spencer the court magician, Penelope the fairy God Mother, Derek a Knight, JJ and Emily were princesses with Y/N.

For the next hour, the BAU team forgot about their stressful job and just enjoyed the innocent fun with their bosses daughter.

Hotch couldn't remember the last time he laughed this much, and seeing his team bonding with his daughter made his heart warm.

As the lunch break came to an end and they had to get back to work, Y/N hugged each team member tightly, thanking them for playing with her.

"Thanks for saving my princess, Hotch" Derek said, high-fiving him as they all left the break room.

Hotch smiled, feeling grateful for his team and their willingness to be a part of his daughter's little tea party adventure.

From that day on, whenever little Y/N would visit him at work, the team would always set aside some time to play with her.

Hotch couldn't be happier, knowing that his daughter was being raised in a loving and supportive environment.

The end!

I hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the wait. Finally got around to writing this. Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1100

[inafieldofstarflowers]

(@tessasilverswan it was sooo dangerous of you to enable me to talk about this scene. I swear I did not mean for this to get so long & so I added a little summary.)

Chapter seven of The Raven King is truly banger after banger, specifically in terms of three important conversations Neil has: there are his post-banquet conversations with Wymack and Kevin, and then—the one I want to focus on—his conversation with Nicky in the library. As a whole, I would argue that this chapter is a turning point for Neil. He already decided not to run, back when Andrew gave him the key, but this is the moment he’s deciding to be a Fox, and to be Neil Josten. His conversation with Kevin is a huge part of this, of course—it’s one of my favorite parts of the series as a whole, because it’s such an interesting insight into Kevin as a character—but his conversation with Nicky is both incredibly informative and  foundational to a lot of the choices Neil makes in the future, but with the exception of a few moments (“Some of the strongest people I’ve known are women” is forever iconic, and also a moment of silence for Nicky Hemmick absolutely failing to clock the fact that his cousin is gay. rip.), it’s not really discussed outside of its work in establishing the pre-series timeline for the cousins, but there’s. So much there.  So, in summary:

This conversation has some truly incredible lines. Nora did not hold back with it.

The details about Aaron & Nicky in this conversation are crucial to understanding how they interact with others—and, more specifically, with each other

This conversation is where Neil starts to understand both the root of the division between Andrew and Aaron and the contribution Aaron and Katelyn’s relationship has to that division, and as a result, plants the seeds for his eventual plan of therapy/using Katelyn to manipulate Aaron

Neil, freshly resolved not to run, is confronted with the idea of a future

Neil, freshly confronted with the idea of a future, is also confronted with the idea that he needs to hold onto something other than Exy (& begins to realize that he has already, unintentionally, begun to do so)

The longer version:

The conversation can easily be divided into two distinct parts: the first of which is a discussion of the twins & their relationship, sparked by Nicky commenting on Aaron and Katelyn, who are standing together a bit away from the table where Nicky and Neil are sitting. It’s significant that Nicky is the one who presses the topic, because it emphasizes that, until this point, Neil doesn’t see any reason that Aaron’s relationship would be worth noticing, even thinking that “his review was more important than something as trivial as Aaron’s maybe-relationship.” While Neil arguably never starts seeing Aaron’s relationship as anything other than trivial, this conversation is the first time he understands its role in the balancing act Aaron and Andrew are performing, and, in a way, the impetus for his later decision to use it as ammunition in trying to reunite them.

It’s also immediately apparent that Nicky and Neil have incredibly different perspectives on the events Nicky is about to relate: Neil, who has been getting closer to Andrew, listens to the story with him in mind, working out potential motivations for him, while Nicky relates them largely from Aaron’s perspective—it’s clear that Aaron has talked to him about these events and Andrew hasn’t, given that he’s able to relate events directly from Aaron’s perspective but can only speculate on Andrew’s thoughts/reasoning. The fact that Nicky can so neatly outline the series of events—most of which he wasn’t present for—suggests that the put a great deal of effort into piecing together what, exactly, got the twins to this place (which, in my opinion, makes the exchange in TKM in which Aaron accuses him of siding with Neil and he comments “It’s not like you’ve ever let me take your [side]” sooo interesting. But I digress.).

This half of the conversation also has two main parts: an explanation of everything leading up to the car crash and the crash/its fallout. This is the most detail that we’ve gotten about the twins’ past, and as he’s telling the story, Neil notes that Nicky’s facade of cheer has fallen away, leaving a humorless smile. I think this is maybe the most genuine we ever see Nicky: he’s performing less than he does around pretty much anyone else, perhaps because he’s been made a part of the family, but isn’t someone Nicky feels responsibility for in the way he does for the twins. Nicky opens with the revelation that Tilda put both twins in the system at first, and the dialogue emphasizes the sheer luck involved in which twin went where: they don’t know Tilda’s reasoning, but Nicky’s summarizes it pretty well in saying that “they each had a fifty-fifty chance of getting screwed, and that, in the end, they “both got the short end of the stick.” It’s one of the most concise descriptions of the way the twins’ relationship was doomed from the start: no matter which direction things had gone, this would always have been a wedge driven between the two of them.

What follows is a depiction of Aaron’s very-much-not-ideal™ childhood, which amounts to pretty textbook neglect (Tilda apparently “tried as hard as she could not to deal with Aaron at all”) until he learned about Andrew, which is “when Aaron says she started getting angry instead of just neglectful.” Nicky says that “Finding Andrew again was a turning point for Aaron in all the worst ways,” which is a brutal statement, but critical to understanding what I would argue is a big part of Aaron’s issue with Andrew: when he learned about his brother, everything fell apart for him, and yet he still tried to reach out to Andrew, and Andrew rejected him (for no reason, as far as he could tell, even though we learn why Andrew did so later). In general, we learn a lot about Aaron here, and specifically his relationship with Tilda, but that’s a separate post, and it can be pretty effectively summarized by saying that, and this point, Aaron’s life was Really Bad. Nicky mentions his mom’s concern about Aaron—so strong that she wrote to Nicky in Germany—and paired with his later statement that he “should have tried harder” with Aaron, it’s clear that part of Nicky’s choice to return & try to help the twins reunite was a result of misplaced guilt. (As a side note, I think Maria’s concern for Aaron and the fact that she at least sort of stayed in touch with Nicky while he was in Germany does a lot to explain why he has hope/any desire to try to restore that relationship: they’re threads of hope that she cares, and Nicky is clinging to them.)

At this point, we move into a discussion of the car crash, which is the clearest example of the Nicky & Aaron vs. Neil & Andrew division. Ironically, this is also maybe the only time Neil is a true Aaron Understander, because Nicky’s comments about Aaron’s relationship with Tilda (“It’s not like Aaron liked her, but she was his mother, you know? And Aaron never got to fix things with her, never got to understand why she was so messed up or why she messed them up so bad.”) are incredibly similar to his feelings about Mary, but that’s nevertheless not enough to stop him from suggesting Andrew acted “to protect Aaron.” 

In the end, Nicky and Neil kind of dance around the truth of the matter, which is that Andrew did act as he did in order to protect Aaron, but that that doesn’t mean Aaron can’t/shouldn’t be angry about it. What they’re exactly correct about, on the other hand, is that this is a big problem, and I would argue that it is here that the seeds of Neil’s therapy plan are planted. He sees the problem (“I’m guessing they’ve never talked about how she died”) and Nicky agrees that there’s no solution in sight as things stand (“They won’t even talk about the little things. I don’t see them having a belated heart-to-heart about Andrew’s intentions anytime soon”), and so he forces a situation where the twins have to address it—and, by doing so, he helps Nicky in his efforts to fix their relationship, which even Nicky says he’s realized he can’t do on his own.

*A moment of silence for Nicky truly believing Andrew and Renee were a thing*

At this point, we transition into the second half of the conversation, which is essentially Nicky’s manifesto on the importance of love, kicked off by the incredible line  “You can love Exy all you want, but it’s never gonna love you back” and Neil’s absolutely on-brand response of “So?” Neil immediately tries to backtrack, realizing that he does not want to have this conversation, and Nicky’s refusal to let it go is one of the few times in the series that I think Nicky’s pushiness is a good thing: this is a conversation Neil needs to have, and he is just not going to do it on his own. (Also, “Nicky snatched his math pamphlet off the desk and dropped it on the ground by his chair” is so funny to me because it’s so needlessly dramatic. I love him.) 

It’s so hard for me not to just quote this whole conversation, because Nicky truly rolls out banger after banger: after this opening, for example, he hits Neil with “Listen up. There’s obsession and there’s dysfunction, You can’t make Exy your end-all-be-all. This won’t last forever, okay? You’ll shine bright, then you’ll retire, and then what? You gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies?” It’s important to me that Nicky isn’t discrediting Exy as a route for Neil’s future: he’s seen how much Neil loves it, and he recognizes that it would be pointless to try to argue that Neil should care less about it. Instead, he’s pushing Neil to recognize that he needs something in addition to Exy in order to live a truly full life.

I think it’s important at this point to pause and consider that Neil has been having a bit of a crisis since the banquet. Earlier in the chapter, Neil is reflecting on the Foxes and how “they were piecing Neil together and building a real person around all of his lies. They found the parts of him no disguise could change. Nothing they were learning would change this year’s outcome” (ie: his impending death) “or tell them who he really was, but it was frightening nonetheless. Luckily midterms were coming up, so Neil could use studying as an excuse to slowly pull back out of their reach.” In this moment, Nicky is directly refusing to let Neil use midterms as an excuse to pull away and avoid a conversation about his future that Nicky can tell he needs to have, as well as forcing Neil to confront the idea of the future he’s already decided doesn’t exist, and I think that Neil is terrified & made deeply uncomfortable by that idea, which is why he backpedals so hard. After the banquet, Neil told Kevin “I want to be Neil Josten. I want to be a Fox,” and the combination of the Foxes making Neil Josten real and Nicky’s focus on his future are proving that those words might mean more than Neil ever thought they could.

*An interlude to honor “Some of the strongest people I’ve known are women.” Neil Josten I love you. Imagine being Nicky Hemmick in this moment: this kid has asked why you don’t like women and answers your attempt to explain concisely by saying this. 10/10*

I won’t get into it too much here, because I’ve already discussed it, but Nicky continues to let his usual mask fall (“Nicky’s smile was slow and pleased…it was a more reserved expression than Neil usually saw on his face.”) and I think that this continued sincerity is part of why Neil finds himself unable to just ignore what Nicky’s saying. 

This is where we get into Nicky’s past, which is so fun! So fresh! If it wasn’t already evident that Luther and Maria suck, it’s made clear as Nicky describes their responses to him coming out, and his description of the conversion camp ( “I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight”) is so tough. This offers a lot of insight into why Nicky is the way he is: his openness is a pretty direct response to his parents’ lack of openness, but in his efforts to not be like them, he’s swung hard in the opposite direction and is often far too pushy about it. As a whole, this passage is genuinely one of the best depictions of religious guilt I’ve ever read—“It didn’t work. For a while I wished it did” and Nicky’s descriptions of feeling alternately abandoned by God and like he betrayed God are so grounded in reality and they make him feel so much more rounded as a character (which, again, I could say sooo much more about than I want to in this already long post). The whole description of Nicky’s mindset is interwoven with a heavy desperation and despair, which makes the fact that it was Nicky’s German teacher who “knew [he] was close to the edge,” while his parents were just “so proud of [him] for [his] so-called recovery” even more jarring: it emphasizes how willingly obtuse Luther and Maria both are, something we already saw in the fact that Aaron successfully hid evidence of Tilda’s abuse from them for years, and something which we see the worst example of later, when Luther refuses to take Andrew seriously and cries “misunderstanding” when Andrew tells him about Drake. (Also side note: shoutout to Nicky’s German teacher. She and Coach Hernandez are really out there looking out for their kids.)

“‘Erik Klose,’ Nicky said, sounding it out like he was saying it for the first time.” I don’t actually have anything to say about this line. It’s just really cute. I do, however, have a lot to say about what follows: “That’s what love is about, see? That’s why Exy isn’t ever going to be enough, not for you or Andrew or anyone. It can’t hold you up, and it won’t make you a stronger or better person.” This is arguably the thesis of this half of the conversation, and it stands in stark contrast to the flippancy and crudeness with which Nicky typically approaches the topic of love. Nicky is, or course, talking about romantic love here, but I think it’s pretty applicable to the idea of love in general, and that having a support system is important—which, again, is likely to hit home with Neil, who has begun to realize that he does, in fact, have one with the Foxes, and has begun to try to pull back. That Nicky is there, saying this to him, is unavoidable evidence that, just like he’s chosen the Foxes, they’ve chosen him, and they’re not going to just let go. This realization is followed by THE “Mary’s parenting kinda fucked Neil up, huh?” quote, in which he outlines a bunch of warnings she gave him on the dangers of letting people in, which is a Whole Lot, and is finally enough to push Neil to end the conversation, at which point we get the great exchange: “At least promise me you’ll think about it?” “Promise,” Neil said. “You are such an unrepentant liar.” 

I love Nicky for dragging this promise out of him even though he absolutely doesn’t believe it’s true, and even though Neil does, in fact, prove him right by immediately trying to forget about the conversation, an effort which is only briefly successful, because he starts thinking about it—and specifically about what Nicky said about Erik—while watching Andrew during practice. This moment is the culmination of the tension between Mary’s instructions & Neil’s decision to first join and then stay with the Foxes that’s been building over this chapter. Specifically, Neil’s instinctual thought that “There was only one person in the world strong enough for all of Neil’s problems, and she was dead now” is countered by the realization that “he’d divided his secrets between Kevin and Andrew,” and that Andrew specifically had “nodded in the face of it and told Neil to stay.” In spite of this realization, he remains avoidant as hell and immediately thinks “that didn’t count, because Andrew was Andrew, and this was definitely the last turn he needed his thoughts to take,” which emphasizes that, even though he’s stepped away from his mother’s rules, he can’t quite let them go yet—or, perhaps, can’t acknowledge that he has already done so. The final line of the chapter, however—that Neil “vowed never to listen to Nicky again”—emphasizes that this has had an impact on him—otherwise, he wouldn’t be worried about what else Nicky would say if given the chance.

[anothermansjeans]

How would you think the team would react to meeting singer!reader??

HEHE FIRST TIME MEETING THE REST OF THE TEAM!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY !

cw: reader meets the team :), spencer gets embarrassed, reader gets embarrassed, but it's all in good fun!! song mentioned at the end is picture you by chappell roan!

wc: 1.1k

singer!reader masterlist

++

Having a two week break during a tour usually meant resting as much as possible before starting back up. For you though, it meant spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible before you're on the other side of the country.

Staying with Spencer brought normalcy to your life. Paparazzi weren't down your back, people minded their own business, and it was easy to blend in– he brought the calm to the storm that is your life. Today, you were feeling that it was time to get out of the house, and the only motivation that could muster you up out of bed was to potentially visit Spencer.

Y/N: paperwork day??

His response was almost immediate.

Spencer: Yes. There’s not much left to do. I’ll probably be coming home earlier today.

Y/N: awesome!! :) have you had lunch? i can bring you something!

Spencer: I have not. You don't need to come all the way here, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.

You smiled while reading his messages. He was always considerate of your feelings.

Y/N: noooo, i want to, spence. i want to meet the rest of your team as well…?

It took him longer to reply to this one, and you were scared you crossed an unspoken boundary.

Spencer: They can be a bit much, but as long as you're comfortable I would love for you to meet them.

You smiled, immediately letting him know you'd be there within an hour. It was almost exactly an hour later when you were walking out of the elevator onto his floor, clad with a baseball cap and sweats, holding your joint lunch in one hand and your phone and sunglasses in the other. You could spot Spencer within seconds, and as you got closer to his desk, you heard who you presumed to be his coworker whistle to him.

“Oh, pretty boy, I think there's a special delivery for you…”

Spencer whipped his head up, seeing you lift the brown bag as you continued to walk towards him. He stood up when you got to his desk, and took the bag from your hands, placing it next to the stack of papers before engulfing you in his arms. You– being completely used to this behavior– let out a giggle when you heard a muttered “who is that guy and what has he done to Reid,” coming from a woman off to the side.

You let go after a minute, and turned towards the three people currently standing with you. “Hi, I’m Y/N!” You sweetly smiled at them as they gawked at you, and you felt Spencer’s hand sneak up to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

The built man in front you eyed the interaction immediately, and gave a grin as he extended his hand. “Derek Morgan. It's great to finally meet you.”

You shook his hand and turned towards the two women, “Emily,” she too put out her hand for you to shake.

“I’m JJ,” the blonde said as you shifted to look at her. A gasp was heard from across the room, causing everyone to swivel their heads towards the sound, and there stood Penelope.

“Y/N!”

“Penny!” The two of you met in the middle for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Likewise, pumpkin.” The two of you giggled as the office doors above the bullpen opened up. The chatter below caused two men to make their way down with the rest of the group.

“Y/N, this is Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi,” Spencer said, moving back over to you and slyly placing his arm around your hip. Of course, he wasn't as sly as he intended because everyone on the team clocked the move.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the older man smiled.

“My son loves your music,” Aaron said, causing you to pale as you thought about the very explicit album you recently released, “the radio edits,” he added, noticing the relief flood your face.

You let out a breathy laugh and backed your body into Spencer's instantly melting into his body. “Right, well, I’m really glad I’ve met you all. Any time you want to hang out at a show just say the word. I’d be happy for you to come.”

They all hummed in appreciation, and Spencer gave you a squeeze, “do you want to have lunch?”

Looking back at him, you gave a nod, but before you could move an inch, Penelope spoke up. “Do you want to have lunch all together? The conference room is available and I don't think anyone has taken their lunch yet…”

Staring into Spencer’s eyes, you silently asked him if he was okay with it, and when he gave a subtle nod, you turned to Penelope with a smile. “We would love to! As long as that's okay with everyone?”

Everyone agreed, and you all sat around the round table getting to know each other as you dug into your lunch.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Spence, but I need to know what songs were specifically written about him.”

JJ’s question caused a blush to appear on Spencer’s cheeks and you stifled your laughter. “Um, well… the entire 'favorite’ album is about him.”

“Oh wow, an entire album?” Derek’s words were directed to Spencer, but instead of acknowledging him, he dug back into his sandwich.

A short laugh was released from your lips at the interaction. “Yes, a whole album. The uh, last five songs on my album ‘rebuilding’ are about him too.”

“And any singles?”

You lifted your eyebrows at the eagerness that came from Emily. “‘Espresso’, and 'Unconditionally’, but that one isn't officially out yet for streaming.”

“Wait, go back,” Penelope paused the conversation, “you said the last five songs… so ‘Picture You’ is definitely about Spencer?”

Now you and Spencer were both blushing. Clearing your throat, you looked everywhere but at the people around the table. “I mean… I like for my listeners to think about whoever they want… given the context of the song…” Spencer’s hand went to your knee, inching his hand towards your thigh and rubbing it gently, letting you know you're both in the same boat.

“But you…” Emily started, a small smile creeping onto her face, “thought about… Spencer.”

“Mhmm.” And that was all she was going to say on the matter.

“My man!” Beside Spencer, Derek clasped him on the shoulder and gave him a shake, everyone around you snickering.

As embarrassed as you were, you knew these types of conversations were bound to happen when meeting the people closest to Spencer, so in the end, as long as you had him, it didn't matter how embarrassed you were. For Spencer, it was the same. He understood your world the best to his ability, and he knew you showed your feelings best through your music. So what if he had to deal with a little bullying from his team?

++

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[midiosaamor]

❪ ★ ❫ 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x ADHD fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: in where aaron warner helps his girlfriend with her ADHD.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight burnout, pet names, stress, slight eating disorder, mental illnesses, anxiety(?), comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, fem reader, modern AU (this is totally a self insert but idc because I NEED TJIS RN OKAY DONT BLAME EM GUYS BLAME GOD)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1343

𝐀/𝐍: i like totally needed this because i just got overwhelmed and had a breakdown yesterday and i dont feel motivated to do shit todsu (its glimg to go away tomorrow but let me be dramatic smh) ANYWAS THIS IS FOR ALL MY ADHD GIRLIES WHO ARE LIKE ME AND SUFFER WITH THIS <333 (also idk if this is realistic or just normal for yall, i just put the things that happen to me everyday that classifies as adhd😾)

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐀/𝐍: ykw idk if tjis ks good or not i made this at like 1 am so im tirdx bfo but whayever ima post it and see what happens lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @heqrtlcss (ask if you want to be added or removed from taglist! <3)

1. executive dysfunction.

(ONE example: focusing too much on one thing, OR, hyperfixation.)

now, you know that you were supposed to be doing something else. it’s about 11:20, and that’s when you and aaron eat lunch together. but, you had to finish this.

plus, it’ll only take a little while, right? it isn’t like you’ll spend thirty more minutes writing a synopsis for a book you read for a friend who asked about it.

wrong.

ten minutes later, your shoulder gets gently pushed. your eyes immediately trail to the owner of the hands and find aaron.

“i know, i know, i’m almost finished,” you say, going back to quickly typing on the keyboard of your laptop. you could feel aaron frown, his eyes still on your head.

“love, it’s time for lunch. you know you have to eat, right?” he asks, putting his hands on the armrest of your chair. though, you barely pay attention to it. “i know. i’m almost finished, though.”

aaron sighs before you find yourself getting turned around in your chair, making your arms fling to the armrest. the blond leans down so he can meet your eyes, his face stern.

“y/n. you know i love you—so much—but it’s time to stop and eat lunch. you know that,” he says, sternly, his eyes focused on you.

you frown and glance back to your laptop before sighing and agreeing with him. “okay, okay,” you grumble, getting up from your chair.

aaron smiles as he follows behind you as you walk into the living room to eat lunch with him.

2. uncontrollable fidgeting.

(a physical reaction to stress or concentration.)

you couldn’t help it. you practically needed something to fidget with. this day was already stressful with you forgetting to set your alarm clock, causing both you and aaron to wake up late; not to mention work being stressful and hard for you.

it was an instinct to fidget whenever you were stressed.

you quickly put your keys down once you made it into your house and immediately looked around for aaron. sadly, you didn’t see him in the living room, or kitchen, so you went to your shared bedroom.

luckily, you find aaron on the bed, who, surprisingly, is wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants. you don’t have time to gawk before you walk up to your boyfriend and practically lounge on top of his chest, making him grunt in shock.

“angel?” he asks, turning off the tv with the remote before his hands wrap around your hips.

you start to fidget with the strings of his hoodie, tugging on them and folding them up. normally you’d have one of those pop-its or a different kind of fidget toy, but this time, you don't.

aaron thankfully figures out what’s happening when you don’t respond and quickly leans over to his bedside counter, careful not to move you, and gets one of the fidget toys he got for you.

huh, you didn’t even realize that was there.

“here, angel,” he says softly, smiling whenever you look up at him take the toy from his hands and start to fidget with it on his chest.

you see him grab the remote and turn on the movie that he was watching before moving one of his hands behind his head, his other hand still resting on your hip.

3. choice paralysis.

(inability to choose choices or decisions.)

you bite your lip in stress, your fingers tapping against your thigh. you and your friends decided to hang out, and they wanted to meet up somewhere again.

it was going fine until one of your friends decided to let you choose since you’d never chosen before.

“so, where are we going, y/n?” your friend beside you asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. it isn't their fault that they don't know about your adhd. only your close friends do, but they’re not here right now. and that makes this 10x worse.

“uhm… i don’t know,” you say with a shrug. saying i don’t know to things was always easier than making decisions. choosing made you panic, stressed, even though you didn’t know why.

“come on, y/n. you can’t just say i don’t know about this,” your other friend sighs, looking up at you from the floor. you nervously bite your lip, moving your feet around.

“well—i don’t really know places y’know? why don’t one of you guys choose?” you asked hopefully, hoping that they would spare you.

they didn’t.

“nope. it’s your turn to choose. we all chose,” the friend beside you says, shrugging nonchalantly. you begin to wish that aaron was there right now.

good thing that apparently, he’s a genie.

“you could just go to that cafe that just opened.” your friends turn to the voice who butted in, revealing aaron, leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in hand.

“oh, yeah! i heard that it’s really good!” another friend butts in, smiling. the friend beside you frowns, looking at you. “are you sure you don’t want to choose this time? i mean we could let you choose—“

“no, no! it’s fine!”

4. trouble recalling commonly used words.

(you don’t remember the word you need to use, even though you’ve used it a hundred times before.)

you were pacing around your room with aaron sitting on your bed, watching you with a smile as you use your hands to exclaim your excitement about a new book you’ve read.

he always knew that books were one of your hyperfixations, and he never said no to you asking to buy piles of books.

“and then—oh my god—he literally smiled. like, he knew! he literally knew that he was going to win the case even though she worked so hard to collect—“ you cut off, trying to remember the word that you were going to use.

“uhm.. wait, what was the word—“

“proof?”

“yes! proof that he was a bastard and deserved to go to jail, but no! they just had to believe him over poor becca and nat who literally are in the fucking right! like, can you believe that?!” you rant, hitting your hand with your other hand in a chopping motion.

aaron lifts an eyebrow. “that sounds like the trial was flawed,” he says. words like that always came easy for him, which you never understood. you always had to think about easy words for some reason.

“it is! like, he’s literally so stupid and annoying—and—wait—and—irritating!” you groan, running a hand down your face.

aaron can’t help but chuckle at your aggression, hiding his smile with his hand. “shut up, aaron,” you deadpan.

5. poor sense of time.

(forgetting what time or day it is.)

oh shit, oh shit. you forgot all about this project. you quickly rush on the paper, your handwriting messy but you’re too stressed to care about that now.

you thought that it was wednesday. not thursday. how could it be thursday? you literally checked the time before and it was thursday. or was it?—you don’t remember anymore.

“angel?” aaron asks curiously, looking at your rushed state. “wait.” you continue to write down on the paper quickly, knowing that the deadline is in five minutes.

“shit, i thought it was wednesday,” you rant to aaron, continuing to scribble down words. “did you forget again?” aaron asks, though it isn’t judgmental.

“yes,” you groan, sticking your hand in your hair so you can lay the side of your face on your palm. “literally, how is it thursday?”

aaron just signs before walking closer to you, putting a hand on your back, and beginning to rub it gently in a form of comfort.

“well, now you know it’s thursday. and, you’re almost finished. even if it’s past the deadline, you’ll be finished with it quickly. don’t worry, love,” he says softly.

you glance up at him before swallowing, nodding your head softly. “yeah, yeah. thank you, darling,” you mumble, calming down. though, you still slightly rush to get through the paper so it doesn’t get late.

[miyuhpapayuh]

magic numbers.

The sound of faint snores mix in with the infomercials that have been playing on a constant loop, about an hour and a half after they’d finally fallen asleep.

Although the couch isn’t the most comfortable spot to lay one’s head, the pair seemed to be content.

Mya's slumped over Isaiah's lap, while he wakes up with a stiff crook in the side of his neck.

Beginning to readjust his position, he looks down at Mya, still half asleep across his lap. His brows immediately furrow, before he remembers them crashing after their comfort show marathon.

Slightly shaking her, he calls out her name.

“Mya.. Mya.”

“Mmh,”

She abruptly sits up, making him flinch. She looks at him with wide eyes, blinking them a few times.

His immediate reaction was to chuckle.

“Are you okay?” He asks, as she rubs her eyes.

She takes a moment to laugh at herself before speaking.

“Yeah– yeah, I’m good.”

“Sorry, I don’t know why I jumped up like that.”

“It’s okay. We found ourselves in a pretty compromising position, huh?” He cracks.

“Did we…” she trails off, staring at his own clueless gaze.

“Nahh.. I don’t think we’d be fully clothed.” He laughs.

“Good point.” She pulls her hair away from her face, hoping it doesn’t look as crazy as she thinks.

“What time is it?” He asks, finally stretching out.

“Uh,” she stares at the blue digital clock beside her tv, “a little after eight.”

He nods. “You wanna get breakfast?”

“You know, I never turn down food. I’d love to.”

“Great. Ima head home and shower, then I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” her voice comes out small as he leans in to kiss her.

She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t make her nervous. But, it was a good kind of nervous.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

Opening it up, she recoils from the sudden chill of the early September wind.

“This weather is so bipolar.”

“Indeed. I’ll hurry back.”

He hops inside his truck and pulls out of the driveway. She scurries back inside, closing and locking the door behind herself.

After a hot shower and hygiene routine, Mya heads into her room and rummages through her top drawer, pulling out a lavender cropped sweater, pairing it with her black spandex pants and her nude slip-on sandals.

She pulls her hair up into a messy bun, before heading downstairs to answer the door.

Yet, it's her mother.

“Mama,” she excitedly greets her with frightened eyes, as they embrace in a well deserved hug.

“Let me in, child. It’s nippy out here!”

Moving into the house, Mya's stomach does a somersault.

“I know I didn’t call before I came, but it’s been a minute since I’ve been here!” She exclaims, turning back to her daughter. “Were you headed out? You look pretty!”

“Thanks, mama,” she smiles, “and I was, actually. Isaiah’s taking me to breakfast.”

“Oh?! So he should be here, shortly, huh? I finally get to meet this young man.” She says as she sits on the arm of the couch.

“Ma, please don’t embarrass me.”

“I would never do such a thing!” She gasps at the allegation, to which Mya responds with a tilt of her head.

“Do you remember when I dated Aaron? You told that boy that I wet the bed until I was eight!”

“Because, his mother told me that he wet the bed until he was thirteen! I thought it was a bonding moment for you two.”

“You gotta be joking.” She shakes her head.

“Honey, you were in junior high. You’re grown, now, I’ll keep my embarrassing stories to myself.” She holds her hands up.

“You say that like it was character development or something!” She irritably responds, to which her mother laughs.

“I’m sorry! You guys did date for a while, though.”

“Yeah. He probably felt bad for me, since my mom’s crazy.”

Before she could utter a rebuttal, another knock sounded at the door. Her heart drops into her ass.

“I’m begging you.”

“Girl, open the door, already.” She says, shooing her toward it.

Sighing, Mya pulls the door back open to see Isaiah, clad in all black, with a rose in his hand.

“You and these flowers,” she smiles, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss, taking the flower from him.

“You know I can’t show up, empty handed. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. You look beautiful.”

“It’s okay, and thank you. I’ve actually got someone that I’d love for you to meet.” They head inside, over to where her mother is patiently waiting to be introduced.

“Isaiah, this is my mama. Ma, this is Isaiah.” They shake hands.

“It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. I’ve heard so much about you.” He says.

“As I have about you! This girl’s very fond of you.”

He smiles. “I’m very fond of her, too.”

She glances in Mya’s direction, wiggling her brows before turning her attention back to him. Mya blushes, sitting her rose on the coffee table.

“How’d you two meet?”

“That story’s actually kinda funny. We’d previously seen each other in the break room, but I didn’t really know what to say.”

“Why not?” She questions, making Mya curious as well.

“She’s really pretty, and it made me nervous.” He admits, making Mya's jaw drop a bit.

“She was walking down the hall and someone was carrying this huge poster board. I pulled her back, before it knocked her down. I think she said I saved her life.” He jokes, earning a slap on the arm.

“Shut up,” Mya giggles.

“How cute is that!” Her mother coos, before standing to her feet. “Well, I’ll let you two get on with your day. It was a pleasure to meet you, handsome.” She holds her hand out, again.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He covers her hand with both of his, smiling.

“Hope to see you again soon! Treat my baby well!”

“Yes ma'am!”

“Thanks for stopping by, ma. I’ll call you later.” The two step towards the door, hugging one another before she leaves.

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!” She waves, before closing the door.

Isaiah walks the short distance to her, his arm wrapping itself around her waist.

“You look so pretty. I say that already?”

“You did,” she giggles, “I feel like I haven't addressed how good you look, though.”

“Ah, thank you babygirl.” He kisses her cheek before she moves to grab her jacket.

“Anytime, handsome. Where are we going?”

“There’s this place on central ave, it’s called Snooze. I’ve never been, but I heard it’s really good. It’s got those mimosas that the girls be talkin’ bout— by girls, I mean Jane.” Mya laughs, pulling him towards the door.

“Come on, you dork.”

Taking their seats at the colorful bar, they scoot in close and hang their jackets on the back of their chairs.

“Hey, guys! I’m Amber, I’ll be your server this mornin’. Can I get y’all started with some drinks?”

“Hm.. I think I wanna try the boozy blackberry mint lime-made. It sounds good!” Mya says. The waitress immediately nods.

“One of my favorites. It’s kinda strong, but it’s delicious.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait.” She dances in her seat, looking over at Isaiah, who’s already shaking his head at her.

“I’ll take an iced tea. One of us has to be sober, right?” He cracks.

“I suppose.” The waitress jokes, making Mya laugh. “I’ll be right back with those.”

“So, I’m the only one having fun, today?” She asks.

“Nah, my entertainment is you, baby.” He fondly pats her knee.

She blushes. “You’re so sweet.”

“Anything for you.” He winks.

“It was nice meeting your mom,” he continues, “I gotta get my two favorite ladies together now, too.”

“Yeah! I’d love to meet the woman that birthed my favorite man.”

His cheeks warm at the sentence.

“It’s cute, when you steal my words and use them on me.”

“I think so, too.” They share a kiss, just as the drinks come.

“Oh, I just love the affection!” The waitress coos. “You cuties need a couple minutes to look over the menu?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Alright, I’ll be right over here!” She points to a spot at the other end of the bar.

Mya grabs her menu, scanning the many delicious options it has to offer. “I think… I want French toast.”

“I think I’ll get the same. I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, today.”

“You do, huh?”

“I do, I do.”

She giggles, taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes immediately widened.

“What? Strong like she said?” He asks.

“Yeah, but it’s really good!” She whisper-yells, making him chuckle.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Their waitress comes back and takes their orders, leaving them to their semi-serene moment in the midst of the chatter, on either side of and behind them. Their eyes rest on the television above, showing a rerun of a college basketball game.

“I swear, every place like this plays the same channel.” Mya says, still sipping on her drink.

“Either this or SportCenter.” Isaiah snorts. His arm now draped around her frame.

She fidgets, before relaxing against him.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her eyes still on the tv.

“Of course.”

“You make me just a tad bit nervous, sometimes.” Her voice comes out small, again.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” she looks in his direction. “Have you ever liked someone so much, the amount of butterflies in your stomach just kinda scare you?”

His frown slowly turns up, easing her increased heart rate. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“That’s how I feel about you… if you didn’t guess it, by now.” She slides a nagging curl behind her ear, staring down at their intertwined fingers.

“I know we say it a lot.. but, it feels nice to say it to someone who feels the same way. You know?”

“Now, I really really really like you,” he says, making her giggle and swat at him as he presses endless pecks to her cheek.

“That’s a lot of really’s. It might turn into something else.” She teases.

“I ain't scared.” He shrugs.

“Neither am I.”

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

A full belly and two more mimosas later, Mya’s in the middle of telling Isaiah, yet another random thought that’s buzzing around in her tipsy mind.

“The media’s full of shit, I’m telling you. They get in everybody’s business and start stirrin’ shit up. Just like white people,” she whispers, but it comes out louder than intended, while he chokes on his laughter.

“For real, ‘saiah. Every “downfall” is probably nothing more than a fluke that gets muddled through the pipelines of a group of greedy bastards that need a way to make extra cash. Taking pictures of famous people gotta bring more than bacon to the table.”

“I agree with you. You can see it blatantly through the fan bases of certain people.” He adds.

“Exactly!—Ugh, don’t get me started!” She waves her hand, sticking her fork into the honeydew that was left on her plate. He laughs again, thoroughly  entertained.

“Want some?” She asks.

“I’ve never had it. Is it good?”

Mya sits up, a look of disbelief coloring her face.

“What— a southern man like yourself has never had honeydew?? Have you at least tried cantaloupe?”

He laughs at her expression. “You’re very animated. It’s funny— but, yes, I’ve had cantaloupe before. It’s not my favorite, and I guess that discouraged me to try anything else like it. It just never seemed appealing to me.” He responds.

“Do you wanna try it? In my opinion, it’s sweeter than cantaloupe. I don’t like that shit either.” Her face holds a slight mean mug.

“I’ve got nothin’ to lose, right?”

“I don't think so!” she laughs. “You don’t have to try it.”

“Nah, I’ll try it.” He shrugs. “C’mere.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?” He mocks, beckoning her with a single finger in his direction. “Come here.”

“I almost channeled my inner Mercedes, and chin checked you.” She says, before holding the fork in his direction.

He scoffs, “abuse in public? How rude.”

“The waitresses’ll back me up.” She looks in their direction, making them laugh and give her a thumbs up.

“That’s cold, ladies.” He chuckles, before finally taking a bite.

She studies his expression as he chews. “You like it?”

“It’s better than what I was expecting.” He responds as she nods.

She swipes her thumb over his bottom lip, catching the excess juice from the fruit before licking it off.

“Mm,”

His brows raise as she turns away from him, hiding the grin on her face. His subtle laugh makes it worse.

“Guess three’s your magic number too, huh?” He asks.

She playfully cuts her eyes at him, folding her hands in her lap.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughs.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

“Thanks for breakfast,” Mya says, twirling her keys in her hand as they stand in front of her door. “I enjoyed myself.”

“As did I.” He smiles. “We gotta keep you away from the bubbles, though.” He jokes.

“Don’t do me!” she rolls her eyes. “Three’s our magic number, remember?”

“Our, huh?”

Her eyes roll back, once more. “Shut up.”

“You got it.” Their lips meet, catching her off guard as his hands find her waist.

A sort of laughing sigh leaves her as their lips mold together. Her hands find the sides of his face.

He pulls her closer to him as he tugs on her bottom lip. A slight moan leaves her.

Resting her hand against his chest, she sighs.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, pulling away.

“I really like you, and I don’t wanna do what I always do in these situations.”

“What do you always do in situations like this?” He asks.

“Something I’m sure I wouldn’t regret..” she briefly looks up at him, his expression making her avert her gaze as her face grows hot.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t regret it, either.” He says, pulling her gaze back to him. “But if you’re not ready, we don’t have to go there.”

But, I am ready!!!!!

Suppressing her urge, she nods. “I— I might be a little too drunk for this conversation.”

A mutual laugh carries through the wind. Still wrapped in each other’s arms, they kiss once more and part ways.

“I’ll call you later.” He promises, hopping into his truck, not driving off til she made it inside.

Pulling her jacket off, she sighs and plops down on the couch. Turning the tv on, another episode of Living Single plays, making her groan.

“Ugh!” she lays on top of the pillows, frowning as his scent hits her nose. She groans all over again.

Her phone begins to ring. Leaning up to grab it out of her jacket, Cedes💘 flashes across her screen.

Laying back down, she answers the FaceTime call.

“Hey, girl.”

“Ew, what’s wrong?” She asks, taking in her friend’s distressed expression.

“I’m just losing my mind. Nothing serious.”

“Wha– girl, what’s going on?”

“I almost threw caution to the wind!” She palms her face. 

Mercedes already knowing what she meant, her face lights up like a Christmas tree.

“Ooooh, you and swole arms ‘bout got it on?!”

“Yes,” she whines, her face still covered by her hand. “I was so close.”

“What happened??”

“We fell asleep on the couch last night and I woke up in his lap. I almost jumped out of my body, because I thought we did something, and then I felt stupid ‘cause we were still fully clothed.”

Mercedes starts laughing, catching a mean glare in return.

“Hey, someone’s gotta tease you for that! I know he didn’t.”

“No, he’s a sweetheart, unlike you, you imp.” She rolls her eyes.

“Anyway, he took me to breakfast and I didn’t even get to my second mimosa before I started telling too much.”

“Oh, girl. You know liquor is not your friend!”

“I know, but I’m always up for a good time! And he didn’t seem to mind, which made me even more comfortable and I just really like him.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

I don’t wanna give it up and be lonely again.” She frowns.

“Oh, honey.” Mercedes’ expression mirrors that of her friend’s.

“Listen. I’ve only met him once and I immediately knew that he wasn’t the type of man to just screw around. He genuinely likes you. All of you! The things that we tease you for, he finds adorable. The things you don’t like about yourself, he admires. Y’all might not be in love or anything, but the feelings that’re there are mutual. I know you’ve gotta see it for yourself and know that he’s worth it, but I promise you won’t get left. I’d kill him, either way.” She winks, making Mya crack a smile.

“Thank you, girl. I just have so much baggage still. Literal ptsd from his crazy ass.”

“I'm still mad you didn't let me whoop his ass, but jail will do! For now, anyway.”

“You know I can't live right if you’re locked up!”

“I know, I know. At least you know I got your back.”

“I do, I do.” She smiles. “Thanks for calling. I really needed to get that off me.”

“That’s what I’m here for!! Besides getting on you and aunt Savannah’s nerves!”

“You know that’s the only reason she gave you the job, right?” Mya jokes.

“You just wait til I see you. We’ll see if Isaiah saves you from my foot like he did that poster board.”

“Shut the fuck up! Bye! Love you!”

“Love you, too!” She blows a kiss before hanging up.

She sits her phone down on the coffee table, before turning her attention to the screen. Eventually, she dozed off.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Isaiah sits across from his sister, Sabrina, currently talking her head off about his new favorite girl.

“She’s so beautiful, man.” He sighs. “I’m not even talking about her face anymore. Just her, in general. I’ve never seen someone wear their heart on their sleeve like her and be so proud about it.”

Sabrina smiles. “Sounds a lot like someone I know. Maybe, she’s been through shit too, ‘saiah.”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it briefly. She’s definitely got scars. But, you wouldn’t know it by being around her. She’s a light.”

“You sound head over heels, over there!”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I just might be.”

Her eyes widened at his confession.

“Well, now I’ve got to meet her! But, wait..” she pauses, leaning forward on the table. “This ain’t another Janae situation, is it?”

“No, mama.” The scrunch is his expression making her laugh. “It’s not.”

“Hey, I’m just making sure! That girl had you runnin’ behind her like a lost puppy, out here.”

He sighs. “Can we change the subject, please? That was a long time ago.”

“Okay, my bad. When do I get to meet your girlfriend?”

“She's not my girlfriend.. yet. When’s the next time you’re free?”

“Hm. Next Wednesday. You guys should come to my job on your lunch break!”

“Alright, I’ll set it up.” He stands up from his seat to hug her, “tell Elijah I’ll be in the car.”

“Where y’all goin’?”

“Tuxedo shopping. I’ve gotta look my best at the Gold Ball,” he fixes his imaginary tie, making his sister laugh.

“Oh boy, I hate I’m gonna miss that.”

“Don’t be a hater all your life, okay?”

Grabbing an apple, she tosses it near his head. His left hand reached out just in time, catching the shiny red fruit.

“Of course, you caught it.” Their younger brother says as he rounds the corner.

“Yeah, him and those crazy fast reflexes. I almost had him, too!” She scowls.

“Better luck, next time.” Isaiah says, turning towards his brother. “You ready to go, man?”

“Yep. You lettin’ me drive?”

“Hell no. C’mon.” He says, before heading out the door.

The snickers from his sister turns him back toward her, a similar scowl on his own face. “Really?”

“Better luck, next time.” She mocks, waving him goodbye as he flips her off.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Standing inside Bailey Brothers’ clothing store, Isaiah browses the expansive collection. His brother, Elijah, trails behind, half listening as he asks for color suggestions.

“I don't know.. wear red.”

“Too bright.”

“Burgundy?” He asks,  looks up from his phone.

“Mm. Maybe.”

Stopping in front of a mannequin, his interest is finally piqued.

“Man, this is a nice suit.”

A Lugard original.

Splashes of cream, maroon and champagne blend beautifully with the help of a metallic overlay for the suit jacket. A burgundy, double breasted cross cut waistcoat, shirt, tie and matching trousers.

“Try it on, man.” His brother nods, sliding his phone into his pocket and pulling over an associate to assist his brother.

Stepping out of the dressing room, he pans around. “What do you think?”

“I don’t like the jacket. It’s too bright,” he chuckles, “the rest of it is sweet, though.”

He sighs. “I can’t buy the suit without the jacket, man.”

“Do you like it?”

“I did, no thanks to you.”

Elijah rolls his eyes.

“Call your girl and ask her opinion or something. We’ve been in here for almost an hour, man.”

“My fault, I'm holding you up? Somewhere you gotta be?” He sarcastically asks.

“Whatever. Ima go check in with Charlie.” He says, before leaving out.

“Of course you are.” He scoffs, before pulling out his phone to facetime Mya, who answers on the third ring.

“Hey, ‘saiah.” Her smile is big, matching his own.

“Hey, beautiful. How’d you sleep?”

She laughs, wiping the crud out of her eye. “Like a baby. What’s up?”

“I need help picking out a tuxedo for the ball.”

“Aww, you want my help??” She squeals.

“Of course. My brother wanted to tag along, but he just left me to go flirt with the girls at the bar, across the way.”

Mya snickers.

“Oh boy. Well, have you tried anything on, yet?”

“I’ve got one on, right now. Hold on.” Finding a small table, he props the phone up and takes a couple steps back as he fits into the frame.

“I like it!”

“You do??”

“I do! Red might be your color, instead of mine. Only thing.. I’m not too crazy about the jacket.”

“It’s too bright, huh?”

“I was thinking shiny in my head, but that works too.” She nods.

“Alright, let’s try another.”

Sliding into an Italian, black velvet-soaked suit, he turns towards the mirror, straightening the matching scarf tie.

“I don’t know how I feel about this one.” He says, glancing over at the phone. Mya looks up her binder.

“Let me see.”

Moving back into the frame, he pans around as she gets a good look. She chews on her nail.

“I like this one, better than the other one.” She says. “Black looks good on you, too. And, it’s velvet! You can’t go wrong, there.”

“Even with the scarf tie? It doesn’t look weird?”

“Not to me– do you like it?”

“I mean, it’s cool. I’m not crazy about it.” He shrugs, still adjusting the suit, unbuttoning the jacket and buttoning it back. Moving the scarf around, even switching it out with the bow tie option.

“I can see that. You want something colorful?”

“I do, yeah. I’m just not seeing a color that’s really doin’ it for me. The first suit was cool, but I don’t wanna stick out like a sore thumb in a ‘shiny’ jacket, either.”

“They’d never forget you!” She cracks, making him chuckle. “But, just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t wear it.”

“You’re right.” He disappears momentarily, before reappearing back in his own clothes. Grabbing the phone up from the table, he heads out of the dressing room and back onto the floor, searching for another suit.

“Alright, I’ll try one more and then I’m giving up!” He dramatically announces. She rolls her eyes.

“Isaiah, you’re a drama queen, sometimes.”

He scoffs, further proving her point. “I should hang up on you.”

“Who else is gonna watch you play dress up, boo?” She tilts her head at the same time that he looks back down at the screen, making them both laugh.

“Good point.”

“I know it.” She looks back at her notes, scribbling a couple of things down, as well as doodling all over her page.

“I’ve got another idea for the office!”

“I see you writing away, over there. Lay it on me.”

“It’s just little things that I’ve been thinking about— like, marble floors could be cool! Rounding off the tops of the archways, I didn’t wanna call ‘em door spaces,” she laughs. “It makes the building look taller.”

“I think it all sounds really cool, babe. You got visuals?”

“Thank you! And yes, the internet was my friend, today!” She exclaims. “I’ve created a folder on my laptop for it and everything.”

“I wanna see,” he says, still skimming through the suits.

“Want me to come over, later?” She asks. “We can order a pizza and I can show you all of my ideas!” She cheeses.

He swoons at the sight.

“Sounds like a plan, babygirl.”

“Great. Still looking?”

“I think.. I found the perfect one.” He says, and for the first time since he’s been on the phone, she can hear the excitement in his tone. It makes her excited, as well.

After calling the associate over, heading back into the dressing room, undressing and redressing in the suit, he takes a look in the mirror.

He snaps his fingers. “This is it.”

“Let me see! Let me see!” She yells.

He stands back in front of the camera, doing another spin. She immediately nods, clapping her hands.

Another all black suit, tailored just right to his muscled build, a red pocket square and matching tie to set it off.

“Wow. That’s absolutely the one. I like the style of the pants, very 70’s flare!”

“Yeah, I like that too!”

“Mmhm, it looks really good on you.” She swoons, placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

His own face runs hot underneath her gaze. “Thank you, pretty.”

“You’re welcome. Glad I could help.”

“I appreciate you. I’ll see you later?” His tone was full of hope, even though she’d already made plans to do so.

“You’ll see me later,” she smiles.

“Good.”

“Now, buy the suit and go wrangle your brother from those girls.” She laughs. He sucks his teeth.

“Kid’s gonna be the death of me, I swear. But, alright. I’ll let you get back to your notes.”

“Alright.” She blows him a kiss. He catches it in his hand, sticking it in the suit’s breast pocket.

She giggles as he explains that it’s for good luck, before they finally end their conversation.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Standing inside of Windsor, Mya's friends, sister and mama help her pick through her options for the gold ball. 

“What about this one? I think it’s cute.”

The Valdrin Sahiti ivory gown with its spaghetti straps and deep enough v-cut, beaded silhouette and ostrich feather train made her feel ethereal.

The feedback made her feel even better.

“Wow! We have to look at more dresses after this one??” Mercedes asks.

“It’s very beautiful, I agree.” Her mother chimes in. “The cut is even tasteful.”

“I love this color on you, honestly. It makes you pop!” Gina says, making Taylor agree.

“Pick this one!”

“Well, there’s another one I wanna try, before I settle! But, I really really like this one, too!”

Stepping off the platform, she rushes into the dressing room to try the other one on, with the help of the lovely associate.

“Okay, here’s the second option!”

Stepping back out, the collective gasp lets her know that she’d, indeed, saved the best for last.

“Wow! Never mind. This is the one!” Gina exclaims.

A brown and purple mosaic style ensemble, this time from Mirror Palais. Silky with a small train for drama, complete with the back out.

“Wow,” her mother exclaims.

“Get this one,” they say in unison.

“I knew this would get y'all!”

“Mmhm. Somebody ain’t gon’ know how to act when he sees this dress.” Mercedes says, snickering to herself.

“Mercedes, please.” Mya laughs, heading back into the dressing room to put her clothes back on. Her brash friend comes with.

“What?! Am I lying??”

“Not necessarily, but shh.” She hints at her mother. “She’ll get wind of him going, and start badgering me about that, on top of asking me why I didn’t tell her!”

“You’re right, my bad.” She apologizes, helping her place the dress in its garment bag. “I’m just so excited for him to see you!”

“Ugh, you should see what he’s wearing.”

“Ooh, you got a picture?”

“I took a screenshot while we were on the phone, earlier.” She goes searching for the picture, squealing as she comes back across it.

Taylor pushes the curtain to the dressing room back, as she steps in. “I heard squealing and I didn’t wanna miss whatever’s going on!”

“Look!” She shows her friends a candid of Isaiah in his burnt orange ensemble.

“Wow!”

“I know!!”

She stares at the picture with them, completely in awe of how good he looks.

A heavenly sigh comes from her lips, making them giggle.

“Sorry, let me put this away.” She snaps out of it, sliding her phone into her sweats.

“Can I ask you something?” Taylor says, sitting on a stool.

“Sure, wassup?”

“I know y’all got a lil hot on your porch, but do you think it’ll go beyond that? Especially, y’all being so attracted to each other?”

Pausing before answering, she sticks her head out, finding her mom and sister by the entrance. She closes the curtain and starts spilling.

“It’s complicated, honestly. Like, I’d love to jump that man’s bones— I’d love to. But, it’s so much more important to me that I get to know him. He’s just so fun to be around— to talk to! The men I’ve come across didn’t even know my favorite color, nor did they care about my random facts, you know? I really, really, really like him. Plus, I’ve got emotional damage to lay to rest, before I have sex, again. That’s not a smart idea.” She explains.

Her friends take in her words, understanding where she’s coming from. They both give her a much needed hug, almost making her cry.

“We love you, girl.”

“You better never forget it, either.”

“I love you guys, too.” She sniffles, as they pull away. She grabs the garment bag and they all regroup to checkout.

“Thanks for finally helping me choose a dress. I can now relax!”

They all hug and part ways for the night.

☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.☆:☆: .☽ .☆: .☽ · 。ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆

Her binder, folder and laptop take up half of the spacious coffee table that Isaiah owns, while the pizza boxes take up the rest.

“Okay, what about marble counters instead of marble floors?” She asks.

“I liked it for the floors, honestly. You think it might be too much?”

“I don’t know… maybe? We could always make the floors a solid color like black or even chocolate!”

“That’s an idea, yeah!” He nods, laughing as she writes it down.

“What about the pastel idea you were telling me about, a couple days ago?” He asks. “Did you trash that one?”

“No, no! I like that idea, too!” She looks between her notes and the goofy expression on his face, sighing.

“Okay, okay. I obviously need to hone in on a color scheme.”

“You think?”

“Listen, I didn’t come over here to get chastised for being scatterbrained, alright?” She pokes his chest.

“I’m just playing.” He chuckles. “Maybe.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t see my gown, until the night of the ball.”

He kisses his teeth. “Who do you think you are, Cinderella?”

“Of course not! I’m cooler than her. I’m me.” She says, matter-of-factly.

He snickers, watching her type away on her laptop.

“The pastels make more sense for the type of place we work at,” she starts. “But, wouldn’t it be fun to shake shit up??”

“Of course, it would! The rustic, barrel club chairs and the teardrop chandeliers that you mentioned earlier, was something I’d never thought of seeing at work. That’d be dope!”

She stops typing to glance in his direction. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He nudges her side. “Me being somewhat of a “handyman”, myself. I could always help you install those.”

“You really wanna help me with all of this?”

“Yeah! You’ve got me excited about all of it. I figure, you can use all the hands you can get, right?”

“That’s very true. I’ll definitely have a full schedule, once I start this thing.” She sighs, cracking her knuckles before looking at him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

Like clockwork, his face runs warm from her words.

“Anytime.” His grin widened.

Knowing she could spend an eternity staring at him, she drops her gaze back to her laptop, clearing her throat.

“Okay. Last call, I suppose. Pastels or neutrals?”

“I vote for neutrals, but it only matters what you think. It’s your project.”

“Nope, you wanna help me, so it’s your project too, now.” She points out.

“You got me, there.” She laughs, closing her laptop, along with her binder and folder.

“I’m gonna call it, cause I’m tired of looking at all of this. Have you packed for the trip?”

“Yeah, I finished up yesterday. What about you?”

“Almost. I just need a rollaway case for my dress, so it doesn’t get smushed.”

“Understandable. I had to purchase a foldable bag for my suit. It’s actually pretty convenient.”

“I didn’t even know they made such a thing!”

“Me neither! One of the associates pointed me to it, when I was checking out.”

“Hm. How much was the suit, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“$450. Not too bad.” He answers. “How much was your dress?”

“Well, it was pretty pricey, in my opinion. I believe the total came to almost $800. I didn't even wanna really look!”

“So, this dress must be something to behold, huh?”

“You’ll find out soon.” She cheeses wide.

@abeautifulmindexposed @harmshake @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @ghostfacekill-monger @megamindsecretlair @thegifstories @dbaileyblog @blowmymbackout @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @twistedcharismaaa @soufcakmistress @slippinninque @theereina @babybratzmaraj

[www-loser-org]

Tulips and a Broken Clock

Pairing: Post-Scratch!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Bookstore-Owner!Reader

MDNI 17/18+ ONLY

SMUT WARNING

A/N: Unfortunately, English is my first language, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! No use of y/n. This was inspired by a post prison Spencer fic called Hourglass by @nereidprinc3ss , it was so good and I loved the premise of it, so I decided to attempt my own.

Content Warnings: 17/18+ ONLY, MDNI, semi-canon Hotch, smitten!Hotch, time skips, not physically descriptive reader, physically descriptive Hotch, 1st person reader, protected sex, interchangeable use of cock and dick, oral sex (fem! receiving), missionary, fluff, angst, smut, use of pet names (darling, honey, baby, sir, counselor, captain, etc.), dirty talk, female is vocal, Hotch isn’t (not surprising), tit sucking, clit play, mention of real life events (COVID), I DO NOT OWN ANY CRIMINAL MINDS CHARACTERS, hair pulling (male receiving), scratching (no mentions of Scratch/Peter Lewis), “I need to know you’re real” sex, OC side characters (Mrs. Johnson), mentions of Before I Let Go by Kennedy Ryan, let me know if there’s more

Word Count: 5,375 words

The clock was ticking by very slowly today. Too slow. I kept eyeballing it as I anxiously waited for the seconds to pass by, silently wishing it would go by faster. It was just another day at the cozy bookshop I had opened a little over 2 years ago. The smell of vintage, used, and new books blended together in harmony with the mix of my lavender essence I had at the front. A few customers roamed amongst the shelves, skimming their fingers along the edges and quiet voices humming in the air. It was a slow day, by any means, but it was even slower as I waited impatiently for the clock to start my wonderful date night. I tapped against the book I was reading and watched as the seconds clock ticked by. Is it getting slower? I should have the mechanic check it out. But that’s so expensive, I can just do i-

“Are you okay there, sugarplum?” The customer asked, interrupting my thoughts.

I shook a little, but smiled nonetheless. “Yes, Mrs. Johnson. I’m just a little distracted today.” I replied, scanning her books. 

“What’s got your mind warped, sugar?” She asks, taking out her wallet.

“Well,” I started, bagging her order and tapping on the screen. “I have a date tonight.”

“Oooo, is it that attractive, serious, brunette man? He’s been looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.” She said.

I nodded, cheekily smiling. “Yes, we had gone out on a few dates over the past 4 months and I really like him.”

She chuckled. “That’s good, sugarplum. Have fun tonight, and be safe.” She warned, pointing an accusatory finger at me as she grabbed her bag and walked out. I giggled and waved at her. “I will, goodnight Mrs. Johnson!” 

I looked back at the clock and not even 5 minutes went by, the hour hand remaining on the 5. I sighed and pulled out my book again, attempting to continue my reading as the remaining customers wandered and filed out. Purchasing or window shopping. 

One by one, chapter by chapter, it soon became 6:30 and I was able to close for the night. I counted out the change and the register and placed them in the safe, putting in the code to ensure its safety. It was then I heard the bell go off in the store. I got up quickly and reached for the bat behind the door. “We’re closed!” I shouted into the store, my hand twisting the bat nervously. I stepped out and closed the door to the office, placing the bat in both my hands. Stupid! You should’ve just hid and called the police! I scolded myself. I walked out slowly, crouching slightly in case the intruder could see me. 

“It’s just me.” I suddenly heard from my right side. I swung the bat towards my intruder before hearing a yelp. “Aaron?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we agreed on 7:30, but I was off earlier than expected and came over immediately.” He explained as I turned on the lights, revealing him in his work attire and holding a bouquet of tulips. Pink tulips. Aaron had fallen and was now laying in between the back reading chairs. He held out the tulips for me to take. I breathed the sweet scent of them and sighed, smiling sweetly at him before holding a hand down to him. He took it and I pulled him up. He stood up quickly and so close to me, I could feel his breath on my nose. I smiled and looked up into his eyes. “Hi.” I whispered.

“Hi.” He whispered back. He smiled and I stole a glance at his lips. He noticed and glanced at mine. Slowly, he leaned in, closing most of the gap between us until his were brushing mine, teasing mine. I decided to minimize the distance and close the gap, kissing him fully. The kiss was soft and sweet, slow enough to stop the world. I closed my eyes, heaven taking over my senses. I let go of his hand and reached to cup his jaw and his grazed my other hand that held the roses. The kiss stole our breath away as we’d break apart for a few seconds and return to the kisses. Heaven blessed this world as we continued to kiss each other in the back reading area of the store. 

Soon his hands caressed my waist as he gently pushed me back. I opened my eyes and pouted teasingly. “Don’t you have to get dressed?” Aaron asked.

I giggled lightly. “You’re right, I do. Give me 20 minutes. You can come up if you’d like. My place is just above the store if you wanna wash up and wait.”

He nodded and followed me upstairs. I led him into the living room, nodding my head as I told him to sit. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a clear vase for the flowers. I felt a presence behind me as he grabbed the vase with one hand. “I got this, it’s okay. Go get ready, don’t worry, we’re still early.” I smiled and kissed his cheek before briskly walking towards my bedroom. 

***

We were walking towards the restaurant doors, hand in hand, smiling at each other. Aaron had a reservation at 8 for the place. I was decked out in a white dress with white shoes, opposite of his dark suit and red tie. Aaron told the hostess his name and she then led us to our table. Aaron had let go of my hand briefly to pull out my chair. “And they say chivalry is dead.” I teased as I sat down, pulling my chair in slightly. 

“Well honey, I keep the chivalry's heart pumping.” He smiled before sitting down in his seat, pulling out his menu as I pulled out mine.

We spent hours there, just talking, laughing, and smiling overall. My heart fluttered at every little thing Aaron had done. From asking the waiter for a refill for my water to asking me little questions about my shop. Whether it be the workload, the stock of books, or even the customer shenanigans, I understood that he cared. I also discussed my past life, parts I never really discussed with anyone else, how I never kept in contact with my parents because their dreams for me were different from mine, how my fiance died in a car crash, how hard it was to start up another small business bookshop, etc. We also discussed some of his old cases. They were brutal, not brutal enough for nightmares, but enough to scare me a little. He had told me about his late ex-wife, Haley, and his son Jack, who was with the babysitter tonight. He spoke highly of her, mentioning how though they divorced, she had always understood his job and odd hours. He stated how she had aggressive opinions against it, but it was understandable given the circumstances and the effects on the relationship. I reached out for his hand and grasped it softly, hoping to comfort him. He explained that his job is what got her killed, how a serial killer named George Foyet had shot and killed Haley. He also talked about Jack and how tough it was to raise him with his job and how much help Jessica, Haley’s sister, had helped out when watching Jack when Aaron had a case. I nodded in understanding, allowing him to continue his stories throughout the night. 

Later that night, he walked me home. He held an arm around my waist as we slowly walked the path to my home. I adorned his black trench jacket and his tie was loosened. We shared whispers of little things that had happened today, swapping little stories with each other as the wind brushed around us. 

Once we reached the front door of the store, we stopped. I looked at him and turned to fully face him. “You can say no, but do you wanna head up with me?” I asked hesitantly with hopeful eyes. 

He eyed upstairs before closing his eyes, groaning quietly. “I would love to, honey. But I forgot that the babysitter doesn’t do nights.”

I nodded, slightly disappointed. “It’s alright. I understand. Besides, we had that other time a few weeks ago.”

He chuckled before pulling me in close, kissing my forehead. “I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll make it up to you next week. I’ll push Jack to have a sleepover or something.” He looked into my eyes, guilt glossing over the surface. “I’ll think of something, I swear.”

I smiled before leaning more into him. “I know you will, Hotchner. You always do.” I kissed him. And then I kissed him again. And then I leaned in for another kiss, brushing his lips with mine. He laughed lightly at the trick and held my jaw in his hands before leaning in and kissing me slowly, closing his eyes. I closed mine as I grabbed his torso and pulled him closer to me.

We eventually let go and breathed in the fresh air. “Good night, darling.” Aaron whispered, letting go.

“Good night, Captain.” I replied, unlocking and opening the door. Once I entered, I immediately went upstairs before realizing that I still had his jacket. I placed it on the coat rack and took a picture of it, sending it to Aaron. You forget something? I texted him. 

He replied, Keep it, save it for our next date.

I smiled before replying, Ok ;). My heart buzzed as I thought of all the possibilities of our next date. I was so excited. I think I like him a little more than I thought. 

***

The next date never came. In fact, there were only a few texts exchanged before Aaron completely ghosted me. A 44 year old man with PTSD and a 11 year old son ghosted me. I scoff at the fact less than I cry over the fact. I thought we were going somewhere with this. I thought we were lovers at that point. I guess I was wrong. I was still managing my bookshop, as usual. From 9 am to 8 pm, customers came and went, buying books, selling books, etc. The pandemic made it hard for the store to survive. I reopened the store as soon as it was allowed, following all the regulations and rules in hopes that I could sell more books and keep the store on its feet. However, during the pandemic, my late grandmother had caught COVID and had died, leaving me an inheritance that kept the store alive and thriving. That and the coffee bar I had installed along with the 9 am to 6 pm barista, who gets paid separately and pays rent on the space.

The tulips from my last date with Aaron sit on the desk, wilted and dried out. I kept them there out of hope, no matter how many times my friends had told me to get rid of them and no matter how many dates I went on, no one could compare to Aaron. It’s silly and stupid, that after 8 years of him disappearing, I still had hope he would come back for his jacket. But he didn’t. And so the tulips were one of the good memories I had with Aaron. 

Sighing, I looked at the clock and saw that it had not moved since noon. I checked the time on my computer and saw that time had sufficiently passed. It was 6:52 and I knew I had to get ready to close. Looking around, I saw the only person left was Mrs. Johnson in the back reading area. I smiled before getting up and tapping her shoulder lightly. “Mrs. Johnson, it’s almost closing time. Would you like me to ring you up?”

“Oh, yes please, sugarplum. Just the one, please.” She replied, holding out one book, Before I Let Go by Kennedy Ryan as I helped her up.

“Good book?” I ask, walking up to the register and ringing her up.

“Oh, it’s great! Reminds me of my husband, Richard, and I,” She smiled fondly. “Falling back in love after thinking we fell out of it.”

“That’s sweet, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll have to check it out myself.” I smiled back.

She nodded, glancing at the flowers. “Don’t lose hope, dear.”

I solemnly smiled. “Good night, Mrs. Johnson.”

She nodded in reply and walked out of the store. I followed behind her and started to pull in the outside coffee tables and chairs, wiping them down as I brought them in. I locked the door, making sure the door didn’t budge. I wiped down all the shelves and the register area, placing the cleaning items under the desk. I glanced up and saw the clock. Snapping my fingers, I pulled out a drawer in the register desk and grabbed a couple batteries along with a screwdriver. I grabbed a ladder and opened it out. Stepping up the ladder, I grabbed the clock off the screw in the wall. I stepped back down the ladder when I heard a knock at the door. Stopping my movements, I placed the clock down on a nearby shelf before walking out into the main area. Looking through the glass, my breath stopped. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him. Aaron Hotchner.

He was holding white tulips and anxiously looking around. I walked closer to the door, my eyes trained on him and his stature. He turned around and our eyes met. Slowly, I walked over to the door. My hands shook as I slowly pressed the handle bar of the door. I pushed the door open and looked back up at him. His eyes stared back into mine. He looked different. More rugged features on his face. He had grown out his beard and was more fit in. He was wearing much more casual wear, no suits. He was wearing an open blue button down with a white shirt and jeans, sneaker clad. I slowly reached a hand up to his face before cupping his cheek. He leaned in a little to my hand. I gasped quietly before caressing more of his face. His eyes were glazed with tears, reflecting mine. “You’re really here.” I confirmed, tears slowly falling from my eyes. 

“Yes. And I’m so sorry.” He replied, sincerity in his voice.

I shook my head. “Shut up.” I grabbed both sides of his face and pulled him in for a kiss. I closed my eyes as he reciprocated immediately. He wrapped his arms around my waist, careful for the flowers. This gave me the opportunity to pull him closer to me, wrapping my hands around his neck. His beard tickled my chin and tears flavored the kiss. I pulled away with my head still against his, a quiet sob wracking my throat. “You’re really here.” I said again, more breathily than the first time. My eyes were still closed because I feared that if I opened them, he would be gone again. “I’m really here.” He confirmed, as if he had heard my thoughts. I laughed lightly before opening my eyes. He was already looking at me, quiet tears flowing down his face. I kissed him again, much softer than the first time. 

I kicked out my foot and pushed the door more open while pulling him inside by his neck. As I pulled him inside, the kisses got more desperate as we swerved towards my cash desk. Aaron placed his hands on either side of the desk, placing the flowers down on the counter. I pulled him closer, molding our bodies as close as possible, grinding against his clothed dick. His hands gripped the desk counter, knuckles turning white at my movement. He groaned into my mouth, which sent shivers down my back. He pulled away first, both of us gasping for breath. “Wait.” He said and I paused, opening my eyes and looking at his. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

I placed my hand against his mouth. “Aaron, I’m positive. You’re alive and I hate you for that and I want to understand why. But right now, I need you to fuck me like you promised. I need to know you’re still here and you won’t leave again.”

He shook his head, eyes running crazy. He removed my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“And Jack?”

He chuckled, reminiscence in his eyes. “Jack is almost 19 years old and in college. I’m pretty sure we’re fine.”

“Okay, just double checking.” I confirmed. He tapped my hips. I immediately understood and jumped, him catching me. I placed a hand around his shoulder and patted his chest with the other. “Why don’t we take this to my room.” I said.

“Absolutely.” He replied. He then walked as quickly as possible towards the office door, opening and closing it while still holding me. He walked us up the stairs and put me down once we reached the living room. I grabbed his face and pulled him towards mine, heavy breaths mingling with one another. I pulled him in for another hot kiss before my hands moved to push the button down off “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He replied, desperately, allowing the garment to fall onto the ground. He fiddled with the hem of my own shirt, teasing my skin. “Is this okay?” He asked, raising a brow.

“God, yes.” I replied, lifting my arms. He removed the shirt and pulled me into him by my hips. His lips sought mine out and I followed the suit, kissing him deeper. I kicked off my shoes and he did his. I pulled him by his neck into my bedroom, the door pushing open with our force. I let go of his lips and gasped for air, falling back into my queen bed. I pushed myself all the way up to my pillows, curling my finger to tease him towards me, smiling cheekily. He followed me up, lips kissing up my skin from my jean clad hips. My hands sought his hair as I basked in the heat of his lips. He reached my bra and pulled it down enough to reveal my nipples. They hardened at the cold air and at his movements. He kissed each one teasingly. I watched him with bated breath. His eyes bore back into mine as he proceeded to take my right nipple in his mouth, sucking sweetly and swirling his tongue. I moaned at the contact, grabbing his hair. He continued his mantra of sensuality, taking moments between suckling and swirling his tongue. His right hand twisted and flicked my other nipple. The movements alone had me moaning at the contact and pulling him closer into me. He switched to the opposite side, making sure to give the second nipple just as much attention as the first. I let out another moan at the switch, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. He continued this mantra as much as he did the first one until both nipples were perked and red from the attention. His trail of kisses reached my neck as he sucked bruising kisses on my neck. His lips reached mine and he pressed deep, hot kisses on my lips. He teased his tongue, prodding at my lips and I opened my mouth. His tongue and taste invaded my senses, he tasted of cinnamon vanilla as I explored more, fighting him for dominance. He won, as usual, taking over all my senses, smell, taste, touch, you name it, he owned it. 

His fingers tapped the waistband of my jeans. He let go of my swollen lips with a gasp. “Is this okay?”

“Please.” I whispered.

“Huh? I didn’t hear that darling. You need to speak up for me, darling girl.” Aaron teased

“Please, Aaron.” I pleaded louder, lifting my hips to meet his. 

He chuckled. “So impatient.” He kissed my jaw. “So needy.” He kissed my neck, trailing his kisses back down until they reached my belt. His fingers fiddled with the buckle, opening the belt. His fingers unbuttoned my pants and he pulled the zipper down, easily pulling the pants down. I lifted my hips off the bed to give him more access to pull the jeans off. After he pulled my pants off, I reached around my back and unclasped my bra, throwing it off to the side. Aaron positioned himself right in front of my entrance, licking his lips as if he were starved. He looked up at my eyes from his position. “May I?” He asked gently against my pussy, ever the gentleman. 

I nodded. “Yes, please, Aaron.” I pleaded. 

He obeyed, chuckling slightly. He pulled down my panties and groaned when he saw how wet I had gotten. He looked completely enamored with my pussy, watching how it glistened and clenched, waiting for him. I felt him breathing at the entrance and felt my walls clench around nothing. I made a small noise from my throat. “Please sir, I need you.”

Aaron’s eyes lit up and he smirked. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I got you.” His tongue reached out and licked a big stripe against my pussy. I gasped at the sudden contact but lifted my hips nonetheless. He wrapped his (big, beefy) arms around my thighs and grounded my body against my bed. He pulled my lower half towards his mouth, licking his way into my entrance. I moaned and gasped at the feeling, allowing him in. His tongue licked stripes on and inside my pussy, varying in patterns and paces. He moved one hand from my thigh and prodded one finger inside. I felt it slide in and moaned at the contact, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. His finger pumped in and out in a slow rhythm as he licked stripes up and down my labia. 

After a few more pumps, Aaron added another finger inside my entrance. He moved his tongue up from its position and swirled it around my clit. I gasped at the sudden change and grabbed his hair, pulling slightly. He groaned a little and it sent vibrations up my body, letting moans fall out my mouth like a river. His mouth switched from swirling to sucking my clit. His fingers pumped in and out of my pussy. One of my hands was down grabbing his hair, pulling him closer to my pussy. My other hand was under my pillow, grasping the sheets of it and twisting. He sped up his fingers, pumping them in and out of me faster. I gasped at the change and moaned. His tongue swirled my clit until his thumb replaced it, circling it slowly. His fingers sped up as well as his thumb and it made me gasp, my thighs threatening to close in. “Oh shit, Aaron.” I moaned out.

“That’s it, darling. Say my name.” He replied, continuing his movements at the same pace. “Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.” I repeated, like a chorus, my moans and gasps making up the verse. His fingers were quickly working me up, closer and closer. “Oh my god, Aaron. Don’t stop.” I gasped out. He started leaving kisses over my thighs, stopping every few kisses to suck hickies into my thighs. “Please, don’t -fuck, don’t stop!” I pleaded, moving both hands to grip his hair, pulling slightly. The overwhelming pleasure of everything, his thumb, his fingers, his kisses, it all hit me as that knot twisted tighter in my stomach. “Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” I let out, gasping and moaning, unable to stop myself. His fingers kept the pace but went harder and harder, making me gasp even more than before. “Oh fuck Aaron, I’m about to-” I was cut off when the knot broke in my stomach and I came with a moan. Aaron reached his head down, licking up every droplet like a man starved. His fingers continued to slowly fuck me through my orgasm, drawing it out until the first load was gone. I moved both of my hands to my forehead, catching my breath.

After he had finished, he brought himself back up to my face. “Breathe, darling. It’s okay.” He said. He kissed me softly on my cheeks and nose. I brushed my fingers through his hair and brought it to the back of his neck. I pulled him back to my lips and kissed him desperately. I moved my other hand down his chest and fiddled with the hem of his white shirt. He immediately understood, sitting up and taking it off. I moved my hands to his belt buckle and tried to get it off. He grabbed my hands and placed them above my head. “I know that you’re impatient, baby, but I gave you what you want-”

“Please Aaron, I want more.” I reply, lifting my hips to grind towards his. 

“First of all, it’s sir. Second of all, it’s going to be sir for the rest of tonight, or you’re not gonna cum. If you want anything, you ask. Are we clear?” He responded in a demanding tone.

“Yes, counselor.” I tested, smile spreading, testing him. He turned his head to the side curiously, smiling curving in his features. He chuckled, “I’ll allow it.”

Slowly, he let go of my wrists and sat back on his knees. I pulled my elbows up, positioning myself towards him. He unclasped his belt and pulled down his pants, leaving him in his white boxer briefs. I sat up and slowly reached for his cock, feeling out how hard he was. Aaron wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled it away slowly. “No, not tonight,” He laid me back down and I wriggled to get more comfortable. He grabbed the spare pillow from beside me and tapped my hips. I obeyed and raised them. “Tonight’s all about you, my darling.” Aaron put the pillow under my hips and stripped himself of his boxer briefs. His dick was leaking with precum, the red tip begging for attention. I stared with my mouth agape. He was 6.5 inches and I knew I was in trouble. I had forgotten how big he was, 8 years time will do that to a person. He reached behind and pulled a condom from his pants pocket. He opened the package, pinched the tip of the rubber and rolled it down his cock. He looked at my face and caught me staring. Aaron chuckled and it caught my attention, changing my line of sight to look at his eyes. “Have you not been taken care of, baby? I’m sorry, I’m here now.” He said, teasing my pussy with his tip. I gasped at the contact, looking down at him holding his cock and where our bodies met. He hissed slightly. “God, you’re so wet.”

“Please sir.” I pleaded.

“Please what?”

“Please stop teasing.” I whined, slowly reaching a hand down to his dick. I reached down and gathered some slick from my pussy and rubbed it on Aaron’s dick, pumping it a couple times. He hissed again before fully grabbing his dick and slowly entered my pussy. I gasped at the stretch, not used to it like I was and closed my eyes, concentrating on relaxing. He leaned down and kissed my neck softly. “Just let me know honey. When you want me to move.” He whispered. 

Once he fully entered me, I moaned at the contact, taking time to adjust. Eventually, I whispered a small yes and Aaron started to thrust back and forth into me. I moaned at the contact as he groaned. Slowly he thrusted in and out of my pussy, taking one of my hands on his and placing it above my head. I moaned out at his thrusts as they hit my pussy deep and hard. Aaron grunted as he thrusted, the sexy sound spilling from his lips as he kissed my neck. I took my free hand and wrapped it around his neck and down his back, softly clawing at it as he moved. “Faster.” I whispered.

“What was that?” He asked in a teasing tone, hitting harder, causing me to yelp in surprise. 

“Please sir, faster.” I gasped out. He obeyed, moving his hips faster and harder, hitting that sweet spot. A high pitched moan left my lips as I clawed his back, my legs wrapped around his waist. He suckled more hickies into my skin, moving his hips faster. “Oh god, sir.” I called out, gasping at the pace of his thrusts. “Yeah? How do you feel, honey?” He teased. 

“So. Fucking. Good.” I replied in a gaspy, whiny tone. He moved my hand to his hair and moved his lips down towards my boobs, suckling more hickies down the trail. He latched his mouth around one of my nipples. His hips moved faster, the veins of his dick rutting pleasure through my walls. His tip continued to hit my spongy sweet spot, causing me to silently scream. My hand tightened on his hair, not pushing or pulling him anywhere, just tightening which caused him to groan. My other hand dug my nails into his shoulder blade, scratching and grabbing onto anything to ground me in my heavenly state. Serieses of “oh fuck” spilled out of my lips like a chorus. Our sweaty bodies are moving with the shaking of the bed.

I decided to open my eyes and look down at Aaron. His eyes were focused on my boobs before he looked up into my eyes, switching nipples. The multitude of sensations were overwhelming, but not enough to get me where I needed to be. That knot in my stomach was so close to breaking. I leaned my head back and squeezed my eyes shut, mouth forming an “o”. “Harder, please sir.” I called out, scratching his head. He obeyed, snapping his hips into me, fast and hard, causing me to gasp and throw my head to the side. I continued my series of “fucks” and moans as he continued to fuck me into oblivion. I squeezed around his cock, getting closer and closer. He got the message, reaching a hand down and swirled his thumb around my clit. “I know baby, you’re so close.”

“God, yes.” I replied, gasping at the contact, arching my back some more. 

“I am too, come on baby.” He groaned out. My moans staggered with his thrusts. His fingers. His mouth. His voice. His words. His dick. It all hit me as the knot tightened even more. “Oh fuck, sir, I’m about t- oh god.” I cried out, rutting my hips to match his pace. 

“That’s it honey, let go, I got you.” He said and I did. I let go and came at that. He grunted and came as well, the condom filling up inside me. 

We both took deep breaths and I whined as he pulled out of me. We were both breathing heavily and Aaron got up from the bed. He walked towards the bathroom and threw away the condom. He closed the door and I heard the sound of him using the restroom. I reached a hand out, vision blurry and searching for him. I needed his touch. My fingers twitched for him, gasping his name out. He came back out with a damp towel and a cup of water. He handed me the cup of water and went down to my legs and pussy, gently wiping away the juices and cum from the sheets and my body. I sat up after he was finished and drank the water greedily as he removed the pillow from under my back. He used the remnants of the damp towel to wipe down my sweaty body. He threw the towel in the laundry basket before getting up again. I grabbed his wrist quickly and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t leave again.” I pleaded, tears forming in my eyes. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, firmly with his hand on the back of my head. I closed my eyes at the contact and the tears fell down my face. I felt him pull his lips back and wipe the tears from my face. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you.” He confirmed. 

Aaron walked around the bed to the other side and got under the covers, motioning me to join him. I got under the covers and wrapped my arms around his torso, leaning my head on his chest. He placed his chin on the top of my head as I drifted off to sleep.

***

I woke up to my alarm and an empty bed. Blearily, I got up and grabbed a shirt off the floor and pulled on the panties, too. Aaron! I thought to myself, waking me up quickly. Putting on my slippers quickly, I headed out into the common area. Hope had faded as I didn’t see him. Panicking, I quickly thought if it was a dream and reached for the counter. Tears pricked my eyes as the lonely presence loomed over me. That was until I heard a muffled clank and a quiet “shit!” from downstairs. I gasped before turning towards the stairs.

I headed down them and opened the door to find Aaron on the ladder, positioning the clock on the nail in the wall. As if he sensed my presence, he turned towards me and smiled. “Good morning, I got us breakfast and coffee. Made it the way you like it.” He said, climbing down the ladder. I saw the food and drinks at the register desk as well as the white tulips in a vase with water, right next to the dried tulips. I walked towards the desk and Aaron appeared behind me. He kissed my cheek. He licked his lips before concern crossed his features, turning me to face him. “Are you okay?” He asked. 

I smiled and nodded. “I am now.”

He smiled back and hugged me tightly, swaying slightly as we drank in each other's presence.

A/N: Hehe, it's finally done and I honestly love it, let me know what you guys think and if I should start a taglist on this or something.

Buy me a ko-fi if you enjoyed it. I also do commissions! Likes and reblogs are also helpful!

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[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 22 THOUGHTS

and spoilers!!!

GUYS I THINK THIS IS THE LAST POST I JUST WANTED TO SAY IM GLAD THEY WERE SUCH A HIT AND U ALL LIKED THEM I RLLY THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SOMETHING THAT ONLY I WOULD SEE BUT IM HAPPY UR ENJOYING MY RAMBLING AND STUPID COMMENTS

- THEAS HERE???

- HOLY FUCK GUYS ANDREWS LETTING AARON DRIVE HIS CAR THIS IS CRAZY OMFG WHAT A DEVELOPMENT ARE WE ALL EXCUTED ABOUT THIS PROGRESS????

- NEIL CAUSING DRAMA FOR THEA AND NOT GIVING A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT EXPOSING THE FACT THAT THIS IS HER SECOND VISIT TO THEM IS SO FUNNY HES SOOOOO UNSERIOUS HE LEGIT JUST DIPS OUT LEAVING A TRAIL OF CHAOS BEHIND HIM

- “Not her first visit to the Foxhole Court,” the reporter guessed. ​“The court? Unknown.” Neil gave a careless shrug he immediately and obviously regretted.

THIS DAMN NEAR SENT ME INTO HYSTERICS HIS NUMBER ONE HOBBY WAS NEVER EXY IT WAS ALWAYS FUCKING WITH REPORTERS THATS HIS TRUE LIFE CALLING

- good lord i fucking despite jeremy’s family. i hope he can get out of there soon i rlly do

fuck u warren

- cat and jeans matching bikes i love them😭

- jean being so proud of his bike is everything and so is jeremy saying “Jean was more interesting by far.”

- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ANOTHER RAVEN IS DEAD. this is actually just sad.

- ANOTHER TWO? one of them being cody’s cousin which icl i completely forgot about BUT WHAT WHY TF WAS NOBODY KEEPING AN EYE ON THEM

- laila riding a motorcycle to get to jeremy coz he needed her :(

- “She was saying something about loosening every screw on Bryson’s desk and chair.” CATALINA ALVAREZ PLS MARRY ME UR SO FUNNY AND COOL IM SO IN LOVE WITH U

nora if ur listening i am currently requesting a neil, jean, cat teamup. they could be unstoppable!

-“But I will choose you every time. You, and Cat, and Laila, every time. I will lose them all if I must.” GUYSSSSSS DONT PLAY WITH ME RN THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME. JEREMYS HEART JUST EXPLODED BTW IDK IF YALL CAUGHT THAT

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

- istg, nora making jean ride a motorcycle was one of her best decisions. i never would’ve expected it and i love it. i wish i was as cool as jean

- oh ew that’s so fucking disgusting. poor lyle.

- “Some of it… It was very long and very boring.” — me when i’m asked if a read the terms and conditions to literally anything

(sorry, now isn’t the time or place to be joking)

- “It is hideous, but it is better than wearing black.” ohhhhh he’s SO bold now,, i remember a time when jean moreau would’ve never dared to every think that let alone tell a raven that. he’s progressed so much 😭

- “Thank you for visiting. It is a rare treat to see Jeremy happy.” guys stop i love william actually he’s an honorary member of the group now

- “If she doesn’t know you enough to trust you now, she never will.” “You don’t know that.”

he said what he said, clock it jean! nah in actuality this shit is so sad poor jere constantly fighting for his mothers approval, going along with her demands to please her rather than doing what’s best for him. he keeps trying, keeps pushing himself for a shred of her love :(

- jean 🤝 neil: having the most boring fucking favourite colours

(i can’t judge i always say black)

- “Brown like the gaze that sought Jean out in every room, but that last thought wasn’t one he could linger on.” KICKING MY FEET RN GUYS

- the daffodil artwork :(

- jean brushing his fingers through lailas hair because he knows it is a sign of affection between the girls and he knows laila needs some comfort. when will nora stop inflicting this pain upon me

- TANNER IS JEANS DUCKLING

- “He slowly separated her hair into sections. It’d been years since he’d done this for Elodie; he could barely remember how it was supposed to go. He tried and failed and tried again, until he got far enough to understand what he was doing.” DO I HIGHLIGHT THIS YELLOW FOR HAPPY AND SWEET SCENES OR BLUE FOR MADLY DEPRESSING SHIT????

- “But the braid in his hand was a rope back to sunlight and solid ground” they’re his safe place :(

- “She prayed for a dragon to save her.” ​Laila’s tone was gentle, like she thought he’d retreat if she spoke too loudly. “Not a prince?” ​“A dragon could tear our house apart to free her and carry her far away.” OH NORA STOP UR JUST TORTURING ME AT THIS POINT LET ME LIVEEE

- “He had a feeling he knew the answer, but it worth a try anyway: “Peaches are trees?” Her nod had him grumbling discontent into his water” bruh he’s so fucking cute i wanna squish his face

- what’s the bet that now that jean has agreed to a dog, the dog they end up getting loves jean the most out of all of them (jean will slowly warm up to it)

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR!!!!!

- “You don’t even have a bed yet,” Jean complained. ​“I have a face she can—” you have a what sorry cat??? i think u got cut off at the end there

- jeremy being so excited for the dog is fucking adorable

- JEAN HAVING A STARING COMPETITION WITH A DOG, LOSING, AND THEN RESORTING TO TELLING THE DOG HE DOESNT SEE THE APPEAL IN HIM IS SO HILARIOUS HES SUCH A BITCH

HES FULLY BEEFING WITH A GERIATRIC DOG RN CALLING IT OUT FOR ITS HYGIENE AND GETTING OFFENDED FHAT IT MIGHT UNDERSTAND FRENCH

NOW HES TELL THE DOG ITS PARENTS ABANDONED IT

“Maybe it perfectly timed its own to his and that was why he always missed it.” i think this is paranoia jean, the conspiracy theories r a step too far

“Jean stared it down, refusing to lose to a beast he could easily shove inside his backpack. He lost” genuinely might have to be the funniest part of the whole book

- Jean v Rex the saga continues: jean bullies rex over his name. jean is clearly more affected as rex is a dog and cannot understand english. “He is not a dinosaur”

- “studying Jean’s face like the secret to the universe was just out of reach.” oh!

- “He’s asleep.” ​“He’s faking it,” Jean said. ​“He likes you,” WHAT DID I TELL U

- “We do not,” Jean corrected him, but both men ignored him.” jean getting ignored by dogs and humans alike today

- “He almost asked, then decided he didn’t need to give the impression he cared.” yessss jean! ur so nonchalant rn i promise.

- “Embrace fatherhood.” nothing to say just that this whole chapter had me so delighted. a very welcome tone change from everything else that had just happened

- “Not for me, Jean warned himself, but for one moment, just this moment, he would let himself pretend.” AHHHHHH GUYSSSS ITS HAPPENINGGGGGGG

AND THATS A WRAP GUYS WTF THANK U FOR JOINING ME ON THIS JOURNEY I HOPE U HAD FUN. THE BOOK WAS GREAT THANK U MS NORA SAKAVIC AS ALWAYS. ILL SEE U ALL AGAIN WHEN BOOK THREE IS OUT!!! IM GONNA GO READ SOME FANFIC NOW

[writinghotchner]

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader (could be read as hotch x oc, i guess) rating: M (nsfw) words: 1,224

read below, or on ao3.

insomnia has once again webbed its way through her brain and shattered through her eyelids. it's nothing new, she's dealt with it most of her life. with an annoyed, tired sigh, she turns fully onto her side to face her boyfriend letting her eyes scan his sleeping face as puffs of his breath fans across her nose. she sighs again, frustrated that she can't sleep and that he can. just as she's about to fling the blanket off of herself and stomp to the living room to be grumpy on the couch, he cracks an eye to look at her. she immediately huffs out a laugh.

"did i wake you?"

he clears his throat and rolls onto his back, stretching his body a little. "i felt you staring at me." he turns to look at the clock on his nightstand. two a.m.

she laughs at that, reaching over to palm his cheek, it hits him with a soft unpainful smack. "i'm sorry. i was admiring your ability to sleep."

he rolls back onto his side, wiggling a little closer to her. "can't sleep?"

she sighs. "no, my brain won't shut up long enough."

he hums his response, his eyes slipping closed again.

"aaron..."

his eyes open slowly to look at her. "hm?"

"help me fall asleep...?" she studies his face as well as she can in the dimly lit room, but she sees him crack a grin, his eyes coming to life.

"how do you suppose i do that?" his voice is still rough with sleep sending shivers down her spine, igniting the fire already growing deep in her belly.

without saying anything, she reaches for his left hand and guides it slowly towards her already throbbing center. she lifts her right leg up a little to give him room and he automatically palms the entirety of her, the warmth of his large hand making the heat already boiling between her legs unbearable.

"god, baby, please.." she chokes out in a whisper, but he keeps slowly, lightly, running his hand over her.

"please what?"

she throws him a pointed look and he grins. "i want your fingers inside m-"

before she can even finish that sentence, he skims his fingers up over her mound, and then wiggles them under her panties, brushing through her trimmed pubes. he doesn't pull her lips apart like she's dying for him to, instead he rests his entire palm on her pubic bone and lets his fingers play softly at her opening, feeling how hot and wet she already was. she squirms under him, clenching helplessly at nothing. he chuckles. "already so wet, hm? were you planning on waking me up or were you going to take care of this yourself?"

she huffs out something between a breathy laugh and a moan as she reaches under the blankets to grip at his wrist. "you're killing me here, babe."

"oh, we can't have that, can we?" he says and then quickly presses his two middle fingers down and then up, pulling her lips open and then stopping to press the tips of them against her clit. she squirms against his hand even more, her bottom lip caged between her teeth.

"aaron hotchner, i swear to god," she pants, the grip on his wrist tightening.

he props his head up on his right hand so he can look down at her, the street light from outside barely shining into the room so he can see the shadows of her face. she looks up at him right when he starts moving his fingers in small circles. she licks her lips and lets them fall apart to suck in a breath.

he speeds up his movements, watching as her face as it contorts with pleasure, her chest rises and stutters, an annoyed yet pleasurable groan leaving her throat.

"baby, please," she nearly chokes out. he chuckles to himself, loving that he can do this to her - make her beg and moan.

a few more deep pressure circles to her clit and he slides his fingers down to her opening and presses inside of her slowly. "is this what you want?" his voice is low and teasing and she can practically hear the grin on his face through her now closed eyes. he uses the heel of his hand to press back into her clit and her leg twitches.

the grip on his wrist moves down to grab the back of his hand, her fingers over his, and she makes him push himself deeper into her. her fingers brushing against her own entrance with the movement.

"jesus, fuck, god," she cries out, squeezing her eyes closed. his fingers are thick and always fill her up the way she needs, especially when he uses two. he sets a slow steady pace, pressing them as deep as they can go and then drags them slowly almost all the way out of her before quickly sliding them back in to his knuckles. she squeezes her legs together, trapping their hands in place. she can feel the tendons in his hand every time he moves his fingers, and she grips his knuckles as he picks up the pace.

strangled moans fall from her lips as she moves her hips against him. he curls his fingers and holds it momentarily against the spongey tissue that makes her feral which causes her to immediately arch her back and release a guttural moan. when he starts to move his fingers again, picking up the pace even faster, she slides her right leg back so he can have more room to move his hand. he moves faster now, the wet slapping sound of his hand ramming into her and her strangled breaths filling the room.

it only takes a few more pumps and curls of his fingers before she's squeezing his knuckles tight. she presses her her own middle fingers into his, trying to push his fingers in farther as her orgasm sparks through her, her own two middle fingers slip in with his for a moment and she thrashes against him, her eyes still squeezed shut. he can feel her lower stomach spasming and it makes him bite his lip to stop his own pleasured sounds. her breath catches in her chest as her orgasm continues to static its way through her. he leans in closer to her, "breathe, honey."

a final strangled, broken moan leaves her throat and she sucks in a harsh breath, her body goes limp, and her hand falls away from his as she continues to breathe heavily. he doesn't remove his fingers right away, he leaves them buried inside of her, unmoving. she slowly opens her eyes and looks at him. "fuck," is all she can manage to croak get out.

"tired?" he asks, his voice strangled with his own wants now, but willing to go on if that's what she needs.

before she can answer he's pulling his fingers out of her and sliding them right back up to her clit. she can feel the gush of warmth follow his fingers out and it makes her moan again.

"are you?" she husks.

"wide awake." and with that he leans over and catches her mouth in a heated kiss as he moves his body on top of hers and settles between her parted, shaking legs.

[winningmymind]

Part 3 Kevaaron/Andreil based off this aftg au post. Part 1, Part 2

Andrew blankly stares at a yawning Aaron. “Why are you here?”

They're standing in the parking lot. The four of them.

“Night practice.” Aaron tiredly replies, not bothering to mask his yawn. He's lugging an overstuffed backpack full of notebooks and a secondhand laptop.

Immediately, Andrew turns his sharp gaze onto Neil and Kevin, who are pretending to look innocent, idly hanging back a safe distance just in case it all goes south. At least Neil has the guts to look Andrew straight in the face. Kevin just glues his eyes to Aaron's sleepy demeanor.

He offers up his last energy protein bar from his pocket, the one that actually tastes decent, unlike the bland flavors Kevin attempts to urge the Foxes to eat. Aaron absently takes and devours it, unaware or uncaring of Kevin’s tiny prideful smile at the brief grazing of their fingers.

“You two are up to something. Don't like it.” Andrew clocks the strikers in a heartbeat, but doesn't press any further. Not now. He stalks off to the car and the rest of them obediently follow.

In the bleachers, Andrew and Aaron take a seat while Neil and Kevin run through drills. Andrew would usually take a nap or watch the Exy junkies with a bored expression until it was time to go. This time his attention is solely on Aaron, who's sitting a few spaces to the left of him reviewing notes. 

Aaron isn't sparing a single glance at his brother, although he can feel Andrew's demanding stare that they should talk to each other. He's always doing that when Aaron's in the middle of studying nowadays. Another non-verbal cue Bee suggested Andrew do to get Aaron’s attention, a softer way of expressing want instead of his usual rough edges. It both irritates and pleases Aaron.

“What?” Aaron gives in and angles his head to the side.

“You're at night practice, but you aren't practicing.”

“Could say the same for you.”

“I'm the driver. Your excuse?”

“Ask them for the details.” Aaron points at Neil and Kevin running across the court like madmen and then returns his focus on studying.

Andrew doesn’t need to be told twice and stands up, scaling down the bleachers. The sudden movement startles Aaron for a moment, and he watches his twin march like he’s on a mission. Kevin and Neil notice from their peripheral, jogging up to meet Andrew halfway.

“Finally come to join us?” Kevin’s too pumped from adrenaline to remember how foolish that sounds.

“Silence.” Andrew presses a finger to his lips, shaking his head at Kevin's frown. He turns to Neil next, locking eyes with him. “I've warned you once. Don't make me say it again.”

“We haven't even done anything.” Neil wipes the sweat from his brow, lying through his teeth. He didn't think Andrew would catch on so soon.

Kevin nods in agreement, feigning ignorance. “Andrew, you're interrupting training. Either gear up and play or standby.”

“You aren't fooling me.” Andrew tells them, slightly tilting his head in his twin's direction, who shouldn't be here at all. “You two don't talk to what's mine unless I say so. And I never gave permission.”

It's true. On the court and during Wymack's mandated practices, Kevin and Neil are only allowed to talk directly to Aaron in a team setting, or if Nicky’s present, never ever alone. Reason being is that they're not exactly subtle. Every one of the Foxes knows Kevin and Neil have the hots for Aaron and Andrew. Except for, maybe, Aaron. 

He's somehow both bright and dense and completely untrained in realizing someone wants him if not explicitly told. A fact that amazes/annoys Andrew and tickles Nicky silly.

Aaron never picks up on Kevin's favoritism. Nicky's been Aaron's only exposure to guys flirting and coupling up, and since Kevin isn't nearly as flashy or intense or bold, Aaron remains clueless. 

Andrew, however, was able to pinpoint Neil's exact fascination toward him from the special treatment he keeps receiving. Neil always comes to Andrew seeking genuine conversations, not the standard small talk he does with the rest of their teammates, and constantly looks elated whenever he discovers anything new about Andrew like a pirate getting lost treasure.

This day was bound to happen. Andrew just lying in wait, preparing for when the Exy junkies would want more than a runner's high as their fix. Whatever they’re planning, it would get them nowhere in the Minyard twins’ pants, Andrew would make sure of it.

“We didn't abduct Aaron. If that's what you're thinking. He came on his own free will.” Kevin says.

Andrew isn't impressed. “Playing dumb still? You will regret it.”

“Too late for that. Aaron's going to tag along until finals.” Neil shrugs.

Andrew quirks a brow at that. “Exy or exams?”

“Both… I think?”

“You're a dead man walking.” Andrew’s eyes light up dangerously. Neil doesn’t fold.

“Eh, heard it before.” Then Neil’s voice takes on a teasing lilt. “Plus, you wouldn’t want to get rid of me too fast. Not when Aaron and I cut a deal where I look over his math? You know how sensitive he is about his grades.”

Andrew clenches his fists and spins on his heel, leaving Neil and Kevin to return to the bleachers, less he slice them up with his many hidden knives should their conversation continue. Neil and Kevin can practically see the murderous mood he's in. In the time that they were talking, Aaron had made his backpack a pillow and fallen asleep, the protein bar not enough to keep him awake. Andrew sits closer to Aaron's outstretched form like a guard dog, staring daggers in Neil and Kevin's direction.

“Could've gone worse. I'd count this as a success.” Neil’s satisfied.

“Remind me. How is this a success again?” Kevin huffs.

Neil looks at Kevin with wide eyes, like Kevin should be able to read his thoughts and simply get it. That makes Kevin scowl deeply at him and Neil sighs.

“I made a loophole to speak to Aaron without consequences and Andrew cares too much about Aaron to fuck that up, meaning I’ve postponed my death by his hands so far.” Neil explains and then he pokes Kevin in the chest. “Now, it’s up to you to find a way to bypass Andrew’s Don’t-Talk-To-My-Twin rule for us to really woo them.”

“How do I do that?”

“Common ground.”

“Like what?”

“Two words.” Neil holds up two fingers. “Medical history.”

And the intangible light bulb floating above Kevin’s head cuts on, shining brightly like his eyes as Neil's genius comes into fruition. There’s a plethora of documentaries about medicine, doctoring, and diseases that Kevin knows will pique Aaron’s interest for a marathon on a Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning when they’re visiting Columbia. He could get Aaron to laze about with him on the couch for hours, bonding maybe, make it a routine, make it their thing even.

Kevin Day has never been so ecstatic that his and Aaron’s majors smoothly overlap for this to be considered possible.

"I'll distract Andrew. You handle Aaron."

They clack rackets and then get back to night practice drills. 

tagging @icangotwiceashigh @little2nerdy @luadusk @a-had-matter @aceadoxography @emilibs