#I’m so tired of people being mean to Penelope
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HOLY MOLY THE ITHACA SAGA
Before I construct comprehensible thoughts- JANASNAKAKAKNSKAKDHBDHCNCJCKDOJSJWNSXLCNKSKSOQIWUWGSGSUDJJCGSJKSKSOAOWISUDUDHHDBEBSBCHDIWBJWIWIQOWNDBSKSKSJSKSJSJJAKQOQOQOSIDYTXTXVSVSHWNNMXZLLZOZSOJWHWHS
Okokokok so- first of all- I spent the entirety of the saga with my hand over my mouth. I said “Oh shit” a lot with varying emotions, and I cried even more with an even wider range of feeling. The best way for me to rant is by song, so:
The Challenge: PENELOPE’S VOICE IS ANGELIC OH MY GODS- and her MUSIC is AHHHHHHH. I love the more ‘classical’ sound (idk I don’t know anything abt music) and Jay was absolutely right about it soaring. Also waiting jumpscare :)))
Hold Them Down: I’ve been waitinggggggg for this song to release ever since I saw the birthday spoof. It did NOT disappoint. Like Ik it shouldn’t be a hype song but I felt so badass listening to it. Actually I think all the “villain’s” songs cuz I felt the same way about Thunderbringer and Get in the Water :)) THE VIBES. Like sending shivers down my spine (in good and bad ways.) AND ANTONIUS’S VOCALS WITH THE SUITOR’S CHANTING IN THE BACKGROUND IS AMAZINGGGGG-
Odysseus: Jaw dropped. The whole dam time. AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Ok so Ody’s electric guitar is BACK and ✨dangerous✨ as ever- ALSO ODYSSEUS BEING CHANTED EXACTLY LIKE POLYPHEMUS’S??? LIKE I GENUINELY THOUGHT IT WAS POLYPHEMUS’S NAME FOR A SECOND. I’ve also been waiting for this one specifically for the “You think I don’t know my own palace?” Line. It was delicious. Also I really love how the final boss battle IS Ody himself- and we’re through the suitor’s pov because symbolism. Imma break this one down a little bit more not at 1:36 am. UM THE SUITOR FUCKED UP WITH THE OPEN ARM SUGGESTION- BUT WHAT REALLY GOT ME WAS ODY’S RESPONSE BEING SO CASUAL? AMUSED? LIKE I WAS SHOOKTH. (Can you tell I’ve been shookth?) AND I WAS DEF JUMPSCARED BY TELE’S MUSIC + QUICK THOUGHT. LIKE ATHENA JUST ADOPTED TELEMACHUS AND I LOVE IT.
I Can’t Help But Wonder: 360 TURN WITH VIBES- and this is where the crying began. It was SOSOSOSOSOSO ADORABLE. It gave me such Dear Theadosia energy and that one makes me cry every time too. And then he hit us with the quick thought. And Athena. AND ATHENA. AND THEY MADE UP. BUT HE’S THE MONSTER. BUT ATHENAAAAAAAAAA
Would You Fall in Love With Me Again?: By this point I was just BAWLING. Before even the song starts after he calls her name I LOVE THE INSTRUMENTAL IT’S SO PRETTY. K, anyways- I love this song. It shows Ody’s character development- his acceptance of the monster rawr rawr rawr- but like by accepting it he can move on? Idk I’m really tired and still kinda crying. But it made me unbelievably warm and fluffy inside while still absolutely gutting me and I LOVE IT. Have I made that point clear yet? Louder for the people in the back? I LOVE ITTTTT.
I’m not ready for criteria yet- I just need to enjoy an overall AMAZING saga and the End. Of. Epic. (Not actually the end but yk what I mean guys.) I literally joined the fandom after the Underworld Saga was released so I honestly have no right to feel sentimental, BUT STILL. IT’S THE END OF AN ERA.
Wait I realized as I put the tags in that the last two titles line up:
I can’t help but wonder, would you fall in love with me again?
#epic the musical#Ithaca saga#epic rant#epic odysseus#hold them down#the challenge#odysseus#i can’t help but wonder#would you fall in love with me again
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Hop off of the Penelope Featherington hate train. Y’all are forgetting that Lady Whistledown writes what she hears- if you talking bout your business in public- or performing your business in public , acknowledge the fact that it may become public knowledge. Especially in the era they live in.
Imagine knowing how much damage a SINGLE rumor can do to you and still choosing to run your mouth OUT LOUD IN PUBLIC- the Ton are practically handfeeding Penelope their business.
As for Eloise- Penelope was protecting her in the same way that Penelope has always somewhat protected the Bridgerton. I’m not letting y’all forget that Penelope through her own COUSIN (in season one) and then her entire FAMILY (in season two) under the fucking bus for BRIDGERTONS!!!
Y’all out here acting like Eloise wouldn’t have gotten caught sooner or later. Better to deal with a rumor (that her family’s reputation can clear up) than to have the fucking QUEEN suspicious of you- or did y’all forget that part?
Yes, Penelope was wrong in how she went about protecting Eloise- but- but Pen was also completely willing to GIVE UP (and she did- until that fucking argument!!!) the only thing that she had for herself. Her only bit of freedom and she was going to give it up- because she’d used it INTENTIONALLY (with good intent) to hurt her friend’s reputation . Y’all are completely ignoring the reasoning behind the Pen/Eloise argument and I will not stand for it. The way she did it was wrong, but she did it to protect Eloise. Better Lady Whistledown than Queen Charlotte- because y’all know damn well if Queen Charlotte had gone after Eloise, even her family’s reputation wouldn’t be able to save her. The method was wrong, but it solved the main problem.
I will repeat:: PENELOPE/LADY WHISTLEDOWN WRITES WHAT SHE HEARS AND SEES!!!! Blame the Ton for not keeping a better handle on their secrets.
#bridgerton#penelope featherington#lady whistledown#Penelope defense squad#because apparently she needs one#do you have any idea how difficult it must be to be the featherington with any fucking money#like she could single-handedly save her family#I hope she doesn’t though#well maybe the sister marrying the cheese guy#Penelope is a woman#of the Ton#with a JOB#she is doing what Eloise wishes she could#if Eloise was a better friend maybe pen would have told her#but no…Eloise only noticed because there was NOTHING ELSE FOR HER TO NOTICE!!!!!#that singular scene- watching the realization on Eloise’s face#led to me to believe that that wasn’t a true friendship#eloise bridgerton#I’m so tired of people being mean to Penelope#my sweet angel has never done a single thing wrong in her life
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birthday fights & other lies- a.hotchner
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summary: aaron forgot your birthday which spirals into something much deeper.
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem baureader
warnings: cheating, panic attack, fighting, no happy ending :(
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12:08. Your birthday was over.
And Aaron hadn’t said a thing.
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1pm that day
“Happy birthday Y/n!” Spencer smiled, handing you a small cupcake with a lit birthday candle on it. The icing was pink, strawberry, your favourite. The cupcake was vanilla, with little sprinkles in it that made it all the more colourful.
“Thank you,” you chuckled as he pulled you into a hug, his long arms and tall stature dwarfing you in his hold. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Well, I wanted to,” he shrugged. “I have tickets to a play this weekend, it’s in the Ford’s Theatre so it’ll be a bit of a drive but-”
“I’d love to go. Thank you Spencer,” you smiled. “When is it?”
“Tomorrow night at 7pm, we can get dinner as well, my treat.”
“Thank you Spencer,” you smiled and hugged him again.
When you’d woken up that morning, you’d been alone in your bed, despite it being full of two people the night prior. Aaron had come over, as he usually did on Thursday nights. He’d get off work late and something in him made him drive to your small townhouse, and fuck you in your bed. He’d spend the whole night convincing you he loved you, only to pretend it never happened the next day. It was like clockwork.
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3pm that day
“Happy birthday sweetheart,” Derek smiled, placing a card and a gift box on your desk.
“Thanks Derek,” you smiled and hugged him close. Earlier Penelope, Jj, and Emily had dropped off gifts at your apartment this morning, and you all had plans to go out to dinner tonight.
David had mailed you a gift, and an invitation to his home for Sunday with the rest of the team. Everyone had accepted, apart from Aaron.
When you thought about it, you didn’t know much about the unit chief you served under, in more ways than one. You knew he was kind and tender, but only behind closed doors. You knew he was intelligent and pragmatic, good at his job, and logical.
But what was he really to you? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Was this a power imbalance? Were you doomed to never know?
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Your phone dinged and you turned it on, tired from the night with the girls.
Are you awake? Aaron asked.
Not for you.
What do you mean?
I don’t know if you noticed but it’s kind of an important day.
What do you mean?
I’m 24 now. You missed my birthday.
He didn’t respond for a few minutes.
I’m sorry.
I don’t care. Don’t call or text me again. I’m not just your fuck doll, I’m a real person.
I know that.
Then act like it Aaron. For fuck’s sake.
I love you.
No you don’t.
I’m coming over.
The door’s locked.
We have to talk Y/n.
Read 12:14am
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Knock, knock, knock.
“Fuck off,” you called from your kitchen, ignoring the banging on the door.
“We have to talk,” he demanded.
“No we don’t. We’re not anything anymore.”
“Please Y/n,” his voice sounded a lot more… emotional than you were used to. Raw and unusually soft. Aaron did everything he way he led the team, with confidence and strength, that included your sex life and relationship. Not once had he been vulnerable the way you’d been. You’d spent nights thinking about your future together and the way you’d tell the team. He’d been asleep beside you, or in his own bed.
You unlocked the door and he came barging in, engulfing you in an all-consuming kiss. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, imagining this is what he’d wanted to do all day but he couldn’t, the team didn’t know you two were together. You pulled back and crossed your arms.
“Hi,” you sighed, trailing back into the kitchen with him hot on your heels.
“Hi my darling,” he smiled softly. “I’m so sorry I forgot about today, I just… it slipped my mind, it’ll never happen again, I swear.”
“Aaron, it really hurts that you just… forgot about today. I’m not asking for a gift, I just wanted… acknowledgement. Is that too much to ask?” Your eyes trailed down to his hands where his fingers played with a… wedding ring?
What the fuck? Aaron had never spoken about being married. He’d never told you he was married. You would never, ever be the one to break up a marriage. Ever.
“Are you married?!” You shouted. Anger bubbling in your stomach like bile. “You fucking asshole!”
8 months of your life, wasted. Someone else’s entire marriage ruined. All because of his selfish actions.
“What? No,” he shrugged, then realised his fuck-up. His hands solidified themselves in his trouser pockets and he started. “I thought-”
“Are you separated? Who is she? Did I really just become a homewrecker?!”
“Baby please-”
“NO! Do not ‘baby’ me! Tell me everything about this woman right now! Do you two have kids?!”
“Yes,” he answered and you genuinely stopped breathing.
“W-what? So- so this entire fucking time y-you’ve been mar-married,” you panted, a hand over your chest to try and make yourself breathe, but you were. You were having a panic attack. Aaron could see the signs. He walked closer but then noticed the way you were shielding yourself from him, making your body smaller, leaning down, and ultimately ending up on the floor as you shut your eyes and tried to focus on breathing.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t y-you tell me?” you rasped.
“We’re getting a divorce.”
“What!? I ruined a marriage? Y-you’re getting a divorce? Is it becau… because of me?”
“Yes and no,” he answered, just observing you, his voice calm and assertive, like it always is.
“What the fuck does that mean!?” you shouted. Thank god your walls were thick and the neighbours next door wouldn’t hear a thing. This would’ve been awkward to explain at the next neighbourhood meeting.
“I didn’t tell her… about you. She asked for a divorce on her own terms, but we were already separated the first time me and you had sex.”
“So then how is this about me?” you were calming down, Aaron could see it. It fucking hurt that you were anxious of him like that. That he’d set off a fucking panic attack and you wouldn’t even let him within meters of you.
“I signed her papers the day she sent them over. Because I’m in love with you.”
“Aaron, what the fuck? Me and you aren’t in a relationship, you’ve made that very clear. The only thing we do is fuck in my house! We don’t go on dates, we don’t celebrate each other’s birthdays, as you’ve so kindly demonstrated, and we aren’t ‘together’. You aren’t there when I wake up every morning, and you don’t come home with me from work in the evenings. You keep telling me that you love me but where is it? Where is this supposed love? I don't see it, do you?”
“I love you. I love that you call me out on all of my bullshit,” a step closer. “I love how smart and driven you are,” another step closer. “I love the little notes you leave on everyone's desks,” his hands wrap around your waist. “I love how good you are at your job,” a small kiss over the fabric of your jumper. “I love how you care about other people,” a kiss to your neck. “I love the little things you do to make me laugh throughout the day,” a kiss to the cheek. “I love everything about you,” a kiss to the lips. “And I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn't completely and utterly devoted to you.”
“I don’t trust you at all,” you admitted, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll never trust you again.”
Aaron’s heart broke, but he understood. He’d been lying to you for months, what did he expect? He didn’t tell you he was a father, a husband. For god’s sake he’d take his ring off in the car every morning. It’s not like him and Haley weren’t rocky. Had this divorce been a long time coming. Had he only been served the papers two weeks ago? Yes. Had he and Haley just separated? Yes. Did he still live with her and Jack? Yes. What was one more lie if it meant he got to keep you? Lying to you was killing him, but it was also saving him, because it meant you were his. His girlfriend, hsi love, his everything.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he promised.
“I don’t want to see you again,” you sniffled, small tears running down your cheeks.
“Please-”
“Just leave. Like you always do.”
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And Aaron did. When you showed up to work the next week, it was Spencer who was clinging to you like a lost puppy.
Something must’ve happened at the play.
Now Aaron had truly lost you.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#bau team#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds fandom#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner fluff#thomas gibson x reader#thomas gibson#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotch fanfiction
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“Pure Intentions”
Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Rating: E
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 1,162 Words
Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.
Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.
Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.
He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.
“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”
“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”
“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”
You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.
“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.
“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.
“You see me as the bodyguard type.”
You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”
“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.
“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”
“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”
“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”
“Mm?”
“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”
“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“
“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.
Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”
You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.
“Can you come to my desk for a second?”
You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.
You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”
“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.
“Uh-” you backed away from him.
“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”
Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.
A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“
“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.
On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.
“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.
“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”
Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”
“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.
“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.
He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.
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hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!
i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!
-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)
hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k
cw implied drug use
You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?"
You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired."
"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done."
You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today?
"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee."
"That's okay, I can make it."
His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible.
As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today."
"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were.
"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you.
It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?"
She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly.
You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)
"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer."
No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do.
There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk.
"Come and sit with me for a bit."
You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat.
You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary."
"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did."
"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon.
Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it."
"It's embarrassing–"
"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too."
"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask.
"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me."
"I'm not trying to."
"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you."
"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek.
"You're squeezing me."
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder.
"Morgan, she knows you know."
"Know what?"
"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks.
"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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“i don’t like being told what to do unless i’m naked” with em? 👀
Bossy
Summary: Emily's been a bitch. You fix her attitude. ;) Warnings: smutty smut smut, my normal tbh. quick and easy, like em Word count: 2.3k A/N: A little short thing to get me back into writing. Thanks Katt for the prompt :)
Emily was pissing you off. Ever since this case crossed JJ’s desk, Emily’s been uptight, more so than usual. You’ve seen her get overly invested in cases before, but something about this one was making her - for lack of a better word - crazy. She was hounding the local police more than normal, squashing peoples’ new ideas and theories before listening, and being short with anyone who tried to talk to her.
She’s snapped at you multiple times today alone, glaring at you anytime you tried to talk about one of your theories. You’d take it personally, but she was acting like this with everyone on the team. It was causing everyone to give her a wide berth, finding excuses to not be in the same room with her.
At the end of the day, Emily had frustrated every member of the BAU (including Penelope who was back in D.C.) and half of the local station to their limits.
And, of course, you were the one who had to room with her this trip. Lucky you.
The ride from the station to the hotel was tense, silence interspersed with the hum of tires on asphalt. The longer the quiet dragged on, the more angry you got at her behavior.
Emily and you had become fast friends when you joined the BAU a few months ago. You had meshed well with every member of the team, but your dark humor and sarcasm bonded you with the raven-haired woman. You’ve spent countless hours with each other, both at work and outside of Quantico.
You felt your phone buzz in your lap.
JJ: You have GOT to talk to her. She’s driving everyone insane!!
You: Why does it have to be me??? It’s bad enough we share a room!
JJ: Because she likes you most!
You: You’ve known her longer!
JJ: Nose goes!
You looked up to see JJ holding her pointer finger on her nose, sticking her tongue out at her. You rolled your eyes at her before typing out another message.
You: Fine! But you owe me coffee and lunch tomorrow!
JJ: Deal! Just make her Emily again!
You locked your phone, glancing up at Emily driving. Her jaw was tense, as if she was grinding her teeth. Both of her hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel. You bit your lip, trying to think of a way to bring up her behavior over the last few days.
***
Entering your shared room, Emily started pacing in front of the beds, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her hands fidgeting.
You sighed. “Em, are you okay?”
Her eyes shot to you. “I’m fine,” she gritted out.
You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly, making sure she saw. “No, you’re not. You’re frustrated about something. And it’s driving everyone crazy. So, again, what’s wrong?”
Emily stopped pacing, glaring at you. “What do you mean it’s driving everyone crazy? I’m fine.”
You huffed, shaking your head. “You’re not. Look at you,” you said, your hand gesturing at her body, every muscle tense, her hands picking at her nails. “You’ve been short with everyone, shutting down theories for stupid reasons. You’ve yelled at every single one of us today and you’ve managed to alienate half of the local cops. Whatever’s wrong needs to stop, Em, I swear, or it’s going to make this case even harder to solve.”
Emily scoffed, not liking being told off. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Now it was your turn to gape at the brunette, your eyebrows twisted in annoyed confusion. “Em, I have spent the last few months getting to know you. Late nights in the office, movie nights on our couches, shopping trips. I don’t know what it is about this case that’s getting to you, but it needs to stop. You need to get your head out of your ass, Prentiss, before it causes you to get benched.”
You watched as Emily stomped across the room to you, her nostrils flaring, her eyes darkening in anger. Her fists were clenched at her sides as she angrily whispered, “I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, so you better watch what you say to me.”
Emily had moved closer to you than she ever has before, her outrage and annoyance palpable in the air. You could feel her huffed breaths on your cheek.
You shook your head, chuckling darkly, barely audible. Emily had never intimidated you before and it wasn’t going to start now. “If all you needed to calm down and be yourself again was a good, hard fuck, all you had to do was ask, Em,” you said, smirking as her eyes grew wide.
You watched as she took in a shuttered breath, her throat bobbing from the nervous swallow.
You could see the indecision in her eyes, the want and the nerves. How she wanted it, needed it, but didn’t want to cross that line with you for fear of wrecking your friendship, your work life.
You brought your hand up, pushing some of her hair behind her ear, taking note of the small shiver that ran through her. “Let me help you, Em. We’ll cross tomorrow when it gets here.”
Emily closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, they somehow had gotten darker, her pupils blown. She’d made her decision. “Fuck it out of me, please.”
You tilted your chin up a little, settling into the role Emily needed you to fill. “Strip. Slowly.”
Emily exhaled slowly, her hands grasping at the hem of her shirt, lifting it inch by inch. She watched you, but your eyes never strayed from her face. When she dragged the material over her head, your eyes never left her face. It furthered your in charge position, making Emily’s breath quicken in anticipation.
The brunette slowly dragged her bra straps down her shoulders, slowly exposing her modest chest. It took a lot of self control on your part, but you still refused to look at her body. You could tell that it was starting to get to Emily, but she wasn’t going to say anything, excited to see what you were up to.
As she drug her pants and underwear down her legs and stood back up, you made another few seconds of intense eye contact with her before letting your gaze slowly glide over her body.
You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about her like this. She was beautiful, striking in a way that made your breath catch the first time you met her. As your relationship with her grew, you were conflicted about thinking of her like this. You’ve come to cherish your connection with her, but you couldn’t help but want more.
You took your time looking her over, trying to memorize every inch of her in case this was the only time you’d be able to see her like this.
Emily’s toes started to dig into the carpet, her anticipation growing to a head, the nerves starting to creep up.
“On the bed, on your back.”
Emily didn’t need a second to think this time, eagerly moving to the mattress and laying herself across it. She settled her head on a pillow in the middle of the bed, awaiting further instructions. It was something that was exhilarating for you, unexpected. You didn’t think she would be this compliant, but you weren’t going to question it.
Your eyes dragged across her body again, watching the way that her skin started to flush at your attention. “You’ve been a bitch the past few days.”
Emily went to open her mouth, to argue.
“No, no. That wasn’t up for debate. You have been. You’ve let this case get to you.” You started to crawl across the bed, your body between her legs. You remained clothed, the fabric of your pants sliding across her bare skin and causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin. You held eye contact, loving the way Emily’s dark eyes seemed to get darker, deeper. You could feel yourself getting lost in them. “I don’t know why, and to be frank, I don’t care.” You let your hands trail across her shins, up to her knees, pushing her legs further apart. You could feel your own heartbeat speeding up, fluttering inside your chest. “I’m going to fuck your attitude out of you and then we’re going to solve this case and go home. Understood?”
Emily swallowed, her head nodding briefly.
“Good,” you said, letting your eyes fall to her bare body. You licked your lips as you looked at her exposed pussy. Through her coarse curls you could tell she was wet, wetter than you expected her to be since you’ve not even touched her yet.
You leaned down, your eyes back on her face as you gently blew across her sodden lower lips. Emily’s eyes closed, her back arching slightly, her hips trying to push further into the sensation. She was sensitive, something you were going to enjoy.
Before her back could make contact with the bed again, your tongue made contact, licking quickly from her entrance to her clit, loving the way her voice got stuck in her throat. You decided you didn’t want to tease her, wanting her to get off and relax. Your tongue made a few more passes up and down, enjoying each sound you could pull from her. When she got used to the movement, her body expecting the up and down licks, you switched to swirls around her clit, sucking lightly, before moving down to her hole, entering her with your tongue.
You paid attention to the sounds she made, the way she whimpered when your tongue made quick circles around her clit, how a moan would get caught deep in her chest every time your tongue entered her. You ate her out passionately, intensely, taking out your frustrations from the past few days on her.
You could tell she was getting close, the way her leg muscles started to tense, how her hands started to fist in the sheet beneath her. With each swipe of your tongue against her, you could feel her get closer and closer to the edge, the both of you desperate to push her over. As she started to moan more often, gaining volume, you reached up your hands, grasping a breast in each. With perfectly timed pinches to her nipples, Emily came undone against your mouth. You continued to lap at her pussy, swallowing down everything she had to give you.
Before her body had a chance to relax, you pushed in two fingers, enjoying the way Emily choked out a harsh gasp at the fast pace you set immediately. “You’ve got one more for me, Em. Give it to me,” you commanded, surprised at the strength of your own voice.
Emily’s bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she struggled to keep up with the thrusting of your fingers. You pushed up her body, using the thumb of your other hand to pull her lip free. “Uh uh, baby. Let me hear those pretty noises.”
Emily whimpered, her eyes catching yours, a million words being shared between you two. Respect, thanks, lust, love.
Your wrist was starting to cramp at the position, but there was no way you were going to stop. Not with the sounds she was making, not with the way that Emily was looking at you. With each thrust in, Emily grunted, with each thrust out, a moan. On one particularly hard thrust, Emily’s back arched, her hands fisting into the shirt on your back. Figuring you had found her sweet spot, you focused there, watching with almost primal glee as her head tossed back in pleasure.
With her throat exposed, your lips made contact to the skin there, kissing and biting at the tender flesh. You trailed your lips up to her ear. “Do you think two orgasms is enough, or should I fuck you into a third?”
Emily’s only response was a garbled moan, her hands trying to scratch at your back through your shirt.
You smirked against her skin. “We’ll see if your cunt can take another one after you cum hard on my fingers.” You curled your fingers at that, feeling the spongy spot inside her that caused her to sob in ecstasy, her legs tightening against your hips. On each thrust you made sure to hit that spot. You moved your head back, wanting to watch her come undone.
You could feel her walls tightening around your fingers, it becoming harder and harder to move within her. You brought your other hand up, wrapping it around her throat, squeezing enough to send a euphoric rush through her.
“Cum for me, Em, now.”
She hadn’t disobeyed you yet.
Emily moaned your name loudly as her walls clamped down on your fingers, forcing you to stay within her as she rode out her orgasm. Her hips undulated against you, riding each wave, reveling in the high.
You worked her through it, easing as her body started to come down. Gently, you removed your fingers, taking satisfaction in the whimper she let out at being empty. You brushed some of her hair out of her face, smiling a little to yourself at the blissed out look on her face. “Feeling better?”
Emily started laughing, a true belly laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
You smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Hey, you don’t get to be sassy to the person who just fucked you back into a good mood.”
Emily rolled her eyes, her hands caressing your shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes expressing even more gratitude.
You lightly kissed her, the first of many. “Don’t mention it. Next time, don’t wait until you’re a raging bitch before asking for what you need,” you smirked.
Emily pushed at your shoulder, shaking her head lightly at your antics. She pulled you down, relaxing under the weight of you, feeling herself drift off to sleep.
If anyone noticed Emily’s improved mood the next day, or the hickies on her neck, they didn’t mention it. The fact that you two solved the case before the day was over was good enough for them.
#emily prentiss x reader#virescent v fanfic#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x you#no use of y/n#welcome back to the emily prentiss smut fest#except this time emily is a bottom hehehehe#i wrote this in like an hour and a half after a thirteen hour shift so if it sucks no it doesnt
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Hello love! Would it be possible to request something with derek morgan x inexperienced!reader? I think it's such an interesting dynamic since he's a very suave person. Maybe something about the reader being nervous or insecure of having less experience than he does? You can go either fluffy or smut or both 🥰 I hope this request finds you well. Thank you in advance!! ❤️
hi! thank you for your request <3 it’s just a little blurb but i hope you like it
derek morgan x reader. content warning: mentions of sex but no smut, reader being nervous, derek being a gentleman, reader likes coffee so if you don’t i’m sorry, reader has hair but i think the rest is gender neutral
You had spent longer than you’d care to admit picking out an outfit for your date tonight. You knew that Derek had seen you at your worst - working together had made it inevitable for him to see you sick at least once, tired, irritable, and much worse than that - but it still felt like a big deal.
It was your third date, and you knew what the implications meant. Even if you didn’t, Emily, JJ, and Penelope and taken to relentlessly teasing you to make sure you did know. And sure, you’d known each other for years and had been in this sort of relationship for a few months (your work made it hard to plan times to be together, which was why you’d been on so few dates), but you were nervous.
You had never really been with many people. Somehow, Derek had managed to be with quite a few people even with how often you had to be away for your job: you knew this because everyone did. He wasn’t exactly subtle. You, however, were not as skilled at picking up anyone while you were away or at home, for that matter. The only people you’d been with were the few actual relationships you’d had in the past.
So, you were sitting on his couch after your date - he had cooked for you, which somehow made this all even more nerve wracking - and you were trying desperately not to bounce your knee.
After what felt like forever, and simultaneously not long enough to prepare yourself, Derek had come to plop down next to you. He insisted you go sit while he did the dishes, something about being a ‘gentleman’ and ‘needing you to sit pretty.’
You were sure he’d noticed your nerves, but he had been kind enough not to say anything yet. However, once he placed a hand on your thigh in what was meant to be a comforting way, and you tensed up, he couldn’t hold it in.
“What’s up with you tonight? Did I do something wrong? You’re not vegan, are you?” He questioned, worried that maybe you hadn’t really enjoyed your dinner.
“What? No,” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him for a mere second, before casting your gaze in front of you. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m just tired.”
“Trying to lie to a profiler? Babe, that’s like, the worst move you could make,” Derek chuckled slightly, turning to face you more. He was trying to make light of the situation, and you appreciated that, but your nerves didn’t seem to care.
“I’m a profiler, too.”
“So you should know you can’t hide things from me. C’mon, just spit it out,” his hand moved to brush your hair off of your shoulder before rubbing it to try and coax whatever was wrong out of you. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
You shot him a look, and he grinned. “Okay, depending on what it is, I may laugh. Just a little bit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to tell me.”
“I just - it’s our third date.”
“Really? Thought it was our fifth.” He tried to joke, but when it didn’t seem to calm you any, he just shook his head and mumbled a small apology.
“And there’s… implications that go along with it.”
Derek tilted his head, looking at you similar to a confused dog. But when you didn’t clarify and instead only gave him a look, he understood what you meant.
“And you’re worried about that?”
“I mean, kind of. Yes. I just,” you sighed as you tried to piece your words together, cheeks flush with embarrassment about even having to have this conversation. You were an adult, but for some reason, telling your sort of boyfriend that you hadn’t had sex in a while still felt awkward. “I’m not really.. experienced, I guess. I’ve only been with a few people. And you-”
“Used to be a total manwhore?”
“I wasn’t going to say that. And I really wish Garcia hadn’t taught you that term.”
He laughed at that then, and his arm lifted off of your shoulder to trail down your arm, before he grabbed onto your hand.
“Look, I’m not expecting anything out of tonight, okay? I just wanted to spend time with you, I don’t care if I see you naked tonight. Or for a while. It doesn’t matter,” he started, and the seriousness on his face was almost odd, since you were used to his teasing grin. “If you’re not ready for it, I’m not ready for it. Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean we’re required to have sex. And I wasn’t really thinking about that, anyway. I don’t want to do it if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want you to be disappointed because I’m not as good as you expected. Or what you’re used to,” You frowned, and it made him frown, almost like a mirror.
“Baby. Sweetheart. Honey. You seriously think I’m going to be disappointed? I used to wake up early every morning so I could get coffee from your favorite place just so I could have an excuse to bring you a cup and talk to you.”
“That’s forty minutes out of the way.”
“I know. I’m like, borderline obsessed with you. You should be creeped out.” When the corners of your lips turned up at that, he broke out into a grin, and leaned forward to grab your face into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “What I’m saying is, I could never be disappointed by anything you do. If we have sex, and only whenever you’re ready for it, it’s going to be great for me no matter what. ‘Cause it means that I’m with you.”
Your head leaned against the palm of his hand, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, quick but loving.
“If you’re ever feeling stressed about these things, you need to just tell me. Don’t sulk, you shouldn’t be nervous about anything. Not with me. Got it?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly and his hands drop from his face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you to his side, your head falling onto his shoulder.
“Great. Now - which horror movie do you wanna watch? Halloween or Scream?”
#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x inexperienced!reader#derek morgan#derek morgan blurb#derek morgan drabble#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan x reader fluff
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flowers, petnames, and, apologies
— inspired by this post, which was prompted by a tiktok sound
walking into the bullpen, derek morgan couldn’t help but notice the person delivering a large bouquet of flowers, “woah woah woah, who are these for?” he asked, assuming they were for one of his female co-workers.
“um.. a mr aaron hotchner?”
derek’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and his jaw dropped, just before the expression was replaced with a mischievous smirk, “let me take this off your hands, i’ll give ‘em to him.”
after bidding the delivery man a thank you and goodbye, derek carefully placed it onto his empty desk; almost immediately, his coworkers surrounded him, intrigued by the colourful array of flowers that lay on his desk.
the bouquet wasn’t overwhelmingly bright, yet it wasn’t void of hues either. they were light, soft, pastel colours — easy on the eyes — majorly white, but with splashes of light yellows, baby pinks and reds dotted around, with, just a hint of blue.
“do you know who they’re from?” penelope’s voice piped up.
before morgan could respond, he was cut off by reid, “most likely a partner. did you guys know that lily of the valley actually represents new beginnings, which is why they’re used for various occasions: weddings, baby showers. and, the blue hyacinths show a desire to make peace — they’re apology flowers, the colours are those usually used to display remorse.” his voice got higher as he got more excited about the topic, “oh! and roses are typically used for a romantic partner, and are normally pink or red; in this instance they’re yellow, and there’s a lot of them, meaning they’re likely to be his favourites.”finally taking in the bewildered looks of his colleagues, the young genius smiled sheepishly at them, quickly shutting himself up.
“you look way too far into things, reid.” derek rolled his eyes, “they’re probably just an early valentine.”
“there’s a note.” jj pointed out — it was hidden inbetween a couple roses.
as derek reached for it, penelope scolded him, “hey! stop messing it up! we really shouldn’t be snooping, you know he likes his privacy.” she frowned, attempting to remain mature, “but i wanna know so badly- be careful!” she lightly smacked his arm.
with confidence that he was right, derek flipped the note over to read it out loud; the smirk wiped off his face at the first two words he saw, “i’m sorry.” he read in annoyance, while glaring at spencer — but nothing could prepare any of them for the next words,
“miss you pookie bear?”
—
meanwhile, said pookie bear was sat at his desk, paying no mind to what was going on in the bullpen, with his head in his hands: your argument from the night before being the only thing he could think about.
—
“this is the third time you’ve done this, aaron.”disappointment evident in your voice.
“i know, i’m sorry.” there were his empty apologies, “i got caught up at work, i lose track of time.” and his pathetic attempts to excuse his negligence of your relationship.
“but you always do this, you’re never here. you never text, or call, and i’m waiting up until 12 in the morning for you.”
“look, we’ll talk about it in the morning, i’m tired.” he sighed.
“we won’t, because you’ll be gone before i wake up.” you were telling the truth — that’s exactly what he did the next morning, left for work without saying a word.
he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration, “you knew what it was going to be like when we started dating, you said you could handle it. my job is demanding.”
rightfully so, you were becoming upset, “not for paperwork! i understand that you get called away abruptly, and i love that you value other peoples lives before your own — it’s why i fell in love with you.” you smiled at him softly, although, it wasn’t for long. “but, i’m talking about when you’re cooped up in the office for so long, there’s no reason for you to be staying there for that much time, after everyone else has left.”
then, everything went quiet for a bit, with you waiting for him to provide some sort of explanation, and when you didn’t get that, you continued, “i just think… if you had to choose between me or your job, you’d pick your job with no hesitation.”
the lack of response caused your face to fall, “i’m sleeping in the guest room tonight, aaron.”
he should’ve done something, anything. instead, he ran away, avoided you like a coward, using his office as a place to seek refuge from taking accountability for his actions.
one time, you told him he was bravest man you ever knew — he almost laughed at how wrong you were.
history was repeating itself. you were his second chance at love, and he was making the same old mistakes, that cost him his family. aaron thought he had changed, swore to himself that he’d never do something like this again. but, here he was, having someone waiting at home, willing to drop anything for him, yet he wouldn’t do the same.
picking up his phone, he dialled your number.
it rang out for a minute, before going to voicemail — he hoped you were just busy, and weren’t already walking out of his life.
“hey,” he breathed “i wanted to say i’m sorry, for last night, this morning.. everything really. i shouldn’t have left, and i should’ve said something.” closing his eyes, he stopped himself from rambling, because you deserved to hear it in person, “i’ll be home soon, and we can talk.. please call me back.” please don’t leave me. “i love you.”
hurriedly gathering his things, aaron walked out of his office; path coming to a stop when he saw his team staring at him, all looking a little smug. a puzzled look found it’s way onto the unit chiefs face.
“hey there snookums.” derek grinned.
aaron quirked a brow, frown deepening, “what?”
stifling a giggle, emily gestured to the bouquet, “someone sent you flowers.”
knowing exactly who sent them, he swiftly excused himself to set it up in his office.
when he read the note, he felt his lips curve up slightly, and he jokingly huffed at the petname — you always loved making him blush and laugh with the obscure names you’d come up with for him.
but, why were you apologising? you did nothing wrong. it should’ve been him doing this, not you.
right as his thoughts began to spiral, they were interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.
“hi, aaron! did you get my gift?” hearing the sweet sound of your voice, so excited and happy to speak to him, brought a sense of relief over him.
rough hands slowly reached over to feel the soft yellow rose petals. “yeah, i did. thank you.” his brows tilted upwards, guilt kicking in again, “why are you saying sorry?”
“‘cause, i shouldn’t have accused you of choosing your job over me, it wasn’t right to push that on you-”
were you out of your mind?
“sweetheart, please stop.” he begged. “you haven’t done anything wrong. telling me how you feel isn’t wrong — telling me that i’m not doing enough isn’t wrong. we need to tell each other these things.” he shut down your attempts to put yourself at unnecessary fault. “i know i haven’t been around lately, but i’m gonna change that. i promise. i want to be deserving of your love, (y/n).”
“you already are, aaron.” you whispered.
“i’m leaving now, so i’ll talk to you at home. i have a bunch of free days to use, and we have lost time to make up for.” he smiled.
closing the door behind him for a second time, aaron scanned the room, his team no longer huddled in one spot, now at their desks; still deep in a conversation he didn’t care that much for.
the bullpen fell silent at the sight of him with his briefcase and keys in his hand, shocked that he was leaving early — not even on time.
morgan, of course, was the first to talk, “where’re you off to in such a hurry honeybunny?” snickering at his own joke.
“don’t make me flag you for creating a hostile work environment, derek.”
“that’s not funny!”
#kinda unhappy with how the ending was written ngl#this was meant to be funny idk why he got sad#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#my fic
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*I've edited this a few times as more thoughts have come to me... like, a lot. People’s reactions to that S3 clips have me just… perplexed and distressed and banging my head against a wall.
People are happy Pen is “dragging” Colin for his one, ONE thoughtless comment the season prior. And I’m like… why do y’all want to see him in pain so much? Why?? We’ve all made mistakes like this and the PenStans are being really unfair to him. His errs pale FAR in comparison to the stuff Pen has done.
Meanwhile, Pen haters are furious and calling her a hypocrite for what she said and want to Colin flip the fuck out at her down the line after the LW reveal.
Both of them have in been wrong and done wrong in multiple instances, again - with varying levels of severity. Pen has done some awful shit (even if she had her reasons) and imo is CLEARLY shame spiraling while ripping into him, in a way that he does not deserve. While Colin has admittedly not only put his foot in his mouth in a pretty public way, and (a much more minor scale) has also been either willfully (doubtful) or naively / innocently (more likely) playing with Pen’s reputation, esp. in S2 in a way that, intentionally or not, lead her on a smidge... NONE of these things justify Pen not giving hi a chance to explain himself. (Though, a reminder that book Colin was always aware of Pen’s crush and careful as a result- we don’t know about show Colin, but I almost hope he’s not aware because that makes some of his choices YIKES... but my instinct is just that he has not felt romantically about her and is hella naive to her feelings).
They can BOTH be wrong!!! We can hold space for both of those truths!! They are both allowed to express that hurt... to a POINT.
I’m tired of people thinking that Pen grappling with her choices has to be a) just… not doing that and pretending she’s perfect (I'm looking at you PenStans) or b) Colin or others screaming at her in punishment or to get on her knees and crawl and repent.
Mind you, this doesn’t mean Pen doesn’t deserve to be called out, she TOTALLY DOES and it is NEEDED for her development and accountability, but why does it need to be done in a way that’s cruel? Two wrongs make a right?? This isn't enemies-to-lovers!!! Eloise already tried an angry outburst and all it did was fan the flames and hurt and made things worse... because Pen lashed RIGHT back out. That exchange started with the intent of causing pain and even when the two inevitably make up, things were said that cannot be unsaid or forgotten. That fight was so painful because they were both hurting and trying to hurt... and they were both partly wrong and both partly right.
The Show!Colin I love is not someone who revels in a righteous anger. He has every right to be hurt by Pen’s choices and to express that hurt, but it’s distressing to me that people want him to blow his top at Penelope in return because she “deserves it.”
1) To me it's OBVIOUS she’s clearly already fucking hurting and NOT COPING WELL and has a lot to grapple with this season regarding her fuck ups and lack of confidence. That doesn't lessen his hurt, but Would Colin really want to do that when his friend is hurting? I don't want a vindictive, smug Colin, not matter how justified he would be in acting that way.
2) In reality, an angry blow up would be so fucking vindictive and unhealthy to BOTH parties and I hope the show doesn’t go that route. I hated angry!book Colin and hope he his “let me grab Pen’s arm and knowingly hurt her as I squeeze because I’m angry so there” stays far away from Show!Colin. He can express his hurt and pain and disappointment ("You're my friend, how could you do that to me?") without a vicious a screaming match (or godforbid manhandling her). In fact, I think it would be less effective for Pen AND less healing for Colin himself.
Pen is hurting and Colin is hurting and I’M hurting because I want my babies to figure it out without harming each other further in shortsighted anger. At least this happens early… I hope Colin gets his say early on too, even if the LW stuff has to come later. I need them to start working shit out.
Why the fuck do people want them to continue hurting each other? Why do you want to see these already suffering characters suffer more?
Who does that benefit?! EDIT: Now I'm seeing takes that they think Pen's mad at Colin for not returning her feelings?! How on earth is that a valid reading when A) she knows that he's in the dark about her feelings? Even when she's snipping at him in this clip, she doesn't say the reason it hurt is because feelings she has. She CERTAINLY doesn't want him to know now B) it's clear that Penelope's self-esteem when it comes to feeling being worthy of love is practically non-existent? Do we think maybe she's angry about the fact that barely an hour after he promised to look out for her he said a phrase that the people around him clearly took in a way that was mocking to Pen? And didn't see him immediately contradict the cruel laughter? Even if it's a large misunderstanding (which I hope it is), it's easy to see why Pen would take that that way if you extend some basic empathy for her. She is not DEMANDING he return her feelings; she was was expecting a friend who wasn't (seemingly) talking about her behind her back. That's not unreasonable (even if she should have confronted him right away about it to clear the air, she was reeling after her friendship with Eloise imploded... she wasn't exactly thinking clearly).
I'm so confused; why do these people who claim to love Polin refuse to try and even remotely understand why Pen is the fucking trainwreck she is right now (or has been since the end of S1 tbh)? Understanding is not endorsement. Empathy is not endorsement. I'm so tired...
#the answer is the vindictive fandom#who don’t even realize they’re vindictive most of the time#bridgerton#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#essay dragging literally everyone is still coming#empathy is a life skill#polin
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People still making Mariana out to be the devil is so funny to me because they love white woman who do worse let’s say Georgia from G&G the same people who love her and think she’s badass amazing mother for doing everything children also love and watch Bridgerton but are call marina most vile cruel things all bc she too wanted to do what was best for her and her child everyone and their mothers how much I love and will die for Penelope but even she’s done unspeakable things to Colin Eloise and his family but they still ship her with him but Marian tries to trap him and she’s the demon span or the devil himself it’s so hilarious to me because it’s not them looking out or caring about Colin it’s them being flat out racist and they act like we don’t see it and pretending to hide their hatred for marina by saying she’s not a good person like ma’am neither is pen when she’s writting most cruel things about the guy she loves and his family and Mariana just say y’all racist and hate Mariana bc of misogynior and go stop hiding behind wanting best for Colin cuz my perfect baby still wanted to marry her and liked her even when pen told him about Mariana plans he understood her and acted like the perfect gentleman he is so don’t even pretend to be doing all that hatred and cruelty and name calling in Colin honour bc he would spit on your face if he wasn’t such a perfect gentleman!
It’s not shocking that a yt show has so many old hag yt woman hating on the one and only black character in a world they think black people don’t belong or shouldn’t be in because it’s not historic accuracy or whatever or don’t think black people don’t exist I haven’t seen polin stans hate Kate but I think they would’ve if she was somehow in the way or was an interesting enough character that was getting attention just because it’s taking away from their self insert yt girl they identify with (bc men probably never looked at them and they feel like Penelope book version at least with how she looks down on herself in comparison to other girls and the men thank god tv pen is amazing badass queen who has her own flaws but bigger better complexities) being centre of the story thankfully was so bland and boring she couldn’t take attention away from anything or anyone which is shame for an actress like Simone!
I don’t even know or like marina or if her name even is marinina because I’ve only seen s2 and I’m pen polin Edwina and Benedict person do not care about anyone else but them and ofc the queen the OG queen ofc! I just think it’s tired seeing so many polin editors making marina out to be devil all bc she lied like my best beautiful hiro Penelope ain’t been lying to her men and bestie for years the hypocrisy the double standards and the obvious racism and misogynior of it all makes me sick to my stomach y’all don’t like her and you are getting your polin season and she ain’t even there nor has she been a problem so why y’all still on her ass it’s weird and it’s showing y’all loser insecurities over a character that’s no longer there who was never ever a thread because show keeps sticking to the books ending so let the girl go and leave in leave and stop this very obvious racism as pen fan y’all make me sick!!
What gets me the most is they like Anthony of all men Anthony the most horrible vile character on that whole show but wanna speak on marina please it’s plain and simple racism anti black and misogynior the end stop lying to yourself making excuses shes mean cruel nah it’s not that it’s bc she’s black and dared to get with ur yt boy fav Colin and tried taking something y’all think belongs to ur yt girl self insert fav Penelope simple af!
#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#bridgerton#polin#georgia miller#ginny and georgia#marina thompson#gng#misogynior#anti black#kate sharma#luke newton#benedict bridgerton#edwina sharma#anthony bridgerton anti#anti anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#simone ashley#nicola coughlan#this hatred for marina bc she lied while loving pen yeah call it racism and go! why y’all on her dick still she ain’t even a threat or there#anti blackness#anti blackness in period drama isn’t the most shocking thing ever#it’s the same lame excuses they make on why they don’t like the only black female character who’s made a simple mistake but love the horrib#trash yt boy character who’s done so much worse ruined lives and can sympathize with almost as bad as wocc yt girl but won’t do it for woc
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Baldurston: A Baldur's Gate 3/Bridgerton Crossover
Summary: Navigating the Sword Coast was full of adventures - thrilling fights, daring deceptions, and even a hint of romance. However, when the party travels through a portal and winds up in the world of 1800s London, they know their path has been drastically changed. The world that was once theirs is no more - now, they are amongst the Bridgertons. Can they leave their old ways behind and navigate the complex social dynamics of the ton?
Chapter 17: Gale
Baldurston Masterlist
Violet Bridgerton stood eyeing a table of refreshments in the drawing room, a small frown on her face. “Do you think we shall need more biscuits?” she finally asked.
“I, for one, think you can never have too many of a good thing!” Gale answered. He reached over to sneak a bisquit off the tray, but his hadn stopped the moment he saw the glower on Violet’s face.
“I should think you could,” Eloise said, looking at the tray with a bit of concern. “Did you invite the whole of the ton to call this morning?”
“We want to make sure we have enough,” her mother answered, dutifully rearranging the biscuits so there would be room for more. “After all, it would be horribly rude for us not to provide refreshments for your multitude of callers.” Violet waved a servant over, gesturing to the now-empty spot. With a quick nod, he headed off, no instruction needed.
“Yes, clearly we cannot be rude to our myriad of callers,” Eloise said, gesturing to the empty room. “Mother, I know your intentions are meaningful, but I danced with one man the entire night! And, if you’ll remember, it was under duress!”
“And I’m so sorry to have to put you through that,” Violet answered with a twinkle in her eye that signified that she was anything but sorry. “However, you must consider that it would be unfavorably rude to refuse a dance on your debut. And while you may not have danced with many men, that does not mean that they did not take notice. Consider your sister, dear. After the first night, she danced with Simon, we could hardly fit all the flowers she received into the room!”
Eloise slumped onto the couch, seeming to tire of the exchange. Gale could hardly blame her. He’d only been here a few days, and already he could tell that neither Violet or Eloise tended to be the sort of person who lost arguments. He, of course, had already lost an argument with them both. “Yes, but Simon is a Duke. Lord Spalding is hardly more than a ‘Mister.’ I don’t think people are going to be envious of him in the same manner.”
The servant returned with an additional tray of biscuits and Violet took them from him, dutifully placing them individually on the large serving platter. “I’m glad your one year of watching the marriage market from the sidelines has turned you into quite the expert,” she quipped.
“And reading Lady Whistledown,” Eloise reminded her. “Reading her work is exactly like being an omnipotent observer of the ball. And she didn’t even mention me!”
“Only because the princess is in town, dear. Even Lady Whistledown knows that she can’t upstage her, isn’t that right, Miss Featherington?”
Gale stopped looking at the mildly precarious tray of biscuits and turned to the entrance to the drawing room. In the doorway stood Penelope. She was again in a yellow dress that paled out her features far too much, but her face flushed when Violet caught her lurking. He felt his lips pulling into an automatic smile as her eyes met his momentarily, then flipped to Violet’s before she gave a little curtsey. “My apologies, ma’am. I did not mean to eavesdrop.”
“Nonsense,” Violet said, gesturing for Penelope to take a seat on one of the daybeds. “You know you’re as welcome in this house as my children.” Her eyes flicked between Penelope and Gale, as though calculating each other’s reaction. “I see you two have met?” she asked after a moment.
Penelope nodded vigorously. “We met at the ball.”
“I was around the snack table when she happened to arrive, and we struck up a conversation.”
“Ahh, I see,” Violet said quietly, although Gale wasn’t sure exactly what it was she saw.
Regardless, Gale turned back to Penelope and gave her a small bow. “It’s nice to see you again. I was unaware that you were so close with my sister.”
“Lady Bridgerton has been quite kind to me for several years,” she explained. “Plus, the short distance to their house allowed for Eloise and I to become fast friends.”
“Yes, and they’ve been inseparable since the Featheringtons moved in across the street,” Violet explained. “Penelope, would you like a biscuit?”
Gale opened his mouth to ask why she was offered a biscuit when he had specifically been told that he couldn’t have one when he was interrupted by another servant entering the room. This one had a nearly windswept appearance to him, as though he had sprinted to the room. “Ma’am, there’s been a caller.”
Violet nodded, her eyebrows raised in question. “Well, good. Please send him back.”
“It’s not a gentleman caller, it’s -”
“I’m perfectly capable of introducing myself,” Shadowheat said, sweeping into the room. “Besides, I’ve always been a fan of seeing how people react to my arrival.”
Gale turned to Violet, hoping that the sudden appearance of Shadowheart in her house didn’t cause too much stress. But while he could see some mild concern in her eyes, Violet was the pinnacle of grace, and the smile plastered on her face never left. “Your Highness,” she said, sweeping into a low curtsey. “Welcome to my home.”
She nodded her head toward Violet in thanks, then floated into the room. “Good to see you, Gale. I’m glad you managed to pull yourself away from the refreshments table at the ball.”
Violet seemed to visibly relax when Shadowheart spoke to Gale first, so he just chuckled. “It was fairly difficult. You know, after such a long while of only having basic rations, there is something simple about having a sweet. It makes me miss the days in my tower, although it is admittedly much less lonely around here.”
Shadowheart nodded. “I can only imagine. That’s mostly why I’m here as well. Miss Bridgerton,” she said, turning her focus on Eloise, “and I had a lovely conversation at the ball, and I was hoping to continue it.”
“Your Highness,” Eloise said, with a slight incline of her head. “Surely I don’t have anything to say that you have not already read in Lady Whistledown?”
Gale could have sworn that he saw Penelope’s eyes widen at that, but then he blinked and they were back to normal. Maybe she was just concerned about her friend contradicting the princess is all, he thought. “That may be true,” Shadowheart said, “but I am not planning to read every back issue of a gossip column to learn more about this ton. At least, I won’t if I have a better option. So,” she said, sitting gracefully on another couch, “tell me everything you know.”
#aliantic#writeblr#bg3#writers on tumblr#fanfic#astarion#astarion bg3#karlach#gale dekarios#lae'zel#shadowheart#bg3 wyll#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#crossover#crossover fanart#lady whistledown
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𝚃𝙰𝚂𝙺 𝟸𝟻; 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝙶𝙴𝙽.
gwen lightfoot.
once the baby of the lightfoot clan, gwen’s title has been given to her brother gabe and honestly ? she’s not happy about it. if eowyn is mostly barley then gwen and her sister took on many traits of their mother. gwen the most. she’s so much like penny that the two often buttheads. the only thing she didn’t get from her mom was her small stature. she was born a force. gwen is a diva and unapologetically mean. she may be difficult but boy can she sing !
inspired by : leighton murray ( sex lives of college girls ) , sharpay evans ( high school musical ) , rachel berry ( glee ), jackie burkhart ( that 70′s show ) , i’m so hot by chrissy chlapecka , quinn fabray ( glee ) , monet de haan ( gossip girl 2021 ) , i don’t want it at all by kim petras , chanel oberlin ( scream queens ) , this is why we can’t have nice things by taylor swift
𝙶𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻
birth name. guinevere quinn lightfoot nicknames. gwen, date of birth. july 25 age. twenty-one gender. cis female. pronouns. she/her. species. human powers. n/a sexuality. lesbian. place of birth. manhattan, new york. current residence. equal time in manhattan and elias. occupation. musical theatre major.
𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴
height. 5'9" hair colour/style. blonde, naturally straight. eye colour. blue. piercings. ears. tattoos. none at the moment. notable markings. n/a. glasses/contacts ? n/a. faceclaim. renee rapp voiceclaim. renee rapp ( singing renee as well ) ( x / x )
𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷
physical ailments. none. allergies. none. sleeping habits. do not wake her before her alarms. exercise habits. dance mostly and running. dominant hand. right. drugs / smoke / alcohol ? no / no / no all these are bad for your vocal chords omg.
𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈
positive traits. talented, perfectionist, reliable, creative negative traits. bossy, know it all, unpleasant, dramatic, reactive usual mood. unamused. likes. broadway, designer clothes, the color pink, cold brew coffees on a fall morning, a chic little black dress, the lights of a stage casting down on you, applause, french cafes, glitter pens, hugs from her father dislikes. being compared to her sisters ( eowyn mostly ), rain, being told what to do, lea michele, the color green, being touched by strangers, chewing with your mouth open, people who try to do duets with her when clearly this is a solo only territory thank you !! bad habits. talking over people and interrupting them.
𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂
mother. penelope hainline father. barley lightfoot siblings. eowyn, kinsley & gabe lightfoot children. none. birth order. third of four. significant other. could be you who’s to say closest friends. august o’neil, lightfoot cousins this could be you !
𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃𝚂
zodiac sign. leo mbti. estj temperament. choleric hogwarts house. slytherin. moral alignment. chaotic neutral.
𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚂 & 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂
languages spoken. english & french drive ? yes. jump start a car ? no. change a flat tire ? yeah but don’t ask her to. ride a bicycle ? yes. swim ? yes. play an instrument ? yes. play chess ? no. braid hair ? yes. tie a tie ? yes. pick a lock ? no. sew ? yes.
compassion. 4/10.
empathy. 4/10.
creativity. 10/10.
mental flexibility. 9/10.
passion. 10/10.
luck. 9/10.
motivation. 10/10.
education. 10/10.
intelligence. 9/10.
charisma. 7/10.
reflexes. 9/10.
willpower. 6/10.
stamina. 9/10.
physical strength. 6/10.
battle skill. 5/10.
initiative. 10/10.
restraint. 7/10.
strategy. 10/10.
team work. 0/10.
( pinterest, her tag, playlist. )
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when there’s nothing you want to watch - bridgerton 2.03 review
1. “A bee in your bonnet” I remember my friend and I rewatching a Harry Potter movie and someone says that, “Bee in your bonnet, Potter?” and we kinda knew what it meant but not really so I texted my British friend like, what does this mean?
2. OK, if he’s not a mouse, he’s Hans. That comparison HAS to have been made, right?
3. But nah, my guy is a mouse.
4. Obligatory backstory to explain why he’s such a dick.
5. Why do I care about these people again? Why should I care about the Featheringtons or whatever they’re called.
6. LOL i was literally thinking, how come no one is marrying their cousin in this show and then right after Featherington Mother Lady was like MARRY HIM and Penelope was all “HE’S OUR COUSIN!” shouldn’t that be something this society is used to?
7. Every time I see Daphne I’m like do you really need to be here?
8. If there’s anything I can say, he plays innocence in the flashbacks and his hardened state in the present decently.
9. oh god is this when we get the pond scene?
10. Bridgerton is allergic to dark-skinned Black women.
11. Clare/Penelope whatever she could be Belle.
12. The setup for Kate/Anthony is there, I just don’t care.
13. oh my god, a woman who DARES to get her dress muddy! and i know it’s a trope, i know it’s the time but i’m BORED, i’ve seen a hundred iterations of this!
14. He really does try more than her, she’s pretty flat.
15. omg guyyyyyyyys they fell in the mud, omgomgomgomgogomg.
16. that was sarcasm.
17. now she realizes he can be a human being because he has a dead father.
18. I can’t believe I’m only 30 minutes in.
19. I am so tired of birthing scenes.
20. “draw his eyes to your bosom” *penelope lowers book and glares* the only time I’ve chuckled.
21. For the love of CHRIST. HOW MANY TIMES are we going to have a scene where someone explains to Danny/Anthony/Mouse Man what feelings are?
22. THE SCENE IS STILL GOING?
23. And again the setup of him having those kinds of passionate feelings for Kate is there but they don’t have chemistry that actually shows it, the framing is just competent and he tries.
24. A. MOUSE.
25. I know his mother is grieving but I don’t care so her monologue just sounds like whining.
26. Oh look more conversations about feelings, it hasn’t gotten old or anything.
27. Like I kinda want to care more about Edwina crying that she didn’t get a proposal but I don’t? Because she’s just ... sweet.
28. Kate. I need you to do more.
29. Like chemistry aside, he is trying to communicate with his eyes but she doesn’t exude.
30. oh GOD is this the breathing scene?
31. Yes. Yes it is.
32. And there’s just ... no charge. If I had more investment in their characters this could’ve been a ship I relatively enjoy despite lack of chemistry since they’re at least well-crafted but I just don’t care about any of it.
33. Like even when they run away and trying to get over what just happened, him I can believe, her not so much.
34. And it’s done.
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I love you, Spencer Reid
Chapter 2, warnings: language, violence, death, murder, abuse
WC: 1.1k , Pt1
Tag list: @mega-kittyglitter-1
There laid a severed, scorched head in the box on the table. I flinched and covered my mouth. The face was completely unrecognizable.
I can hear the faint sound of Spencer talking in the distance as I try to choke back the vomit in my throat.
I walked away from the counter and collapsed onto my couch, my heart beating rapidly. I gripped the pillow and covered my mouth.
Spencer covered up the box and sat down next to me.
"Y/N its uh- it's gonna be ok. We're gonna find whoever did this" he hesitantly whispers, unsure of what to say.
"How is this going to be ok? There's a head in my dining room!" I spat out, my hand sliding from my mouth up to my forehead.
"I'm going to call Hotch" Spencer says as he picks up his phone.
Before I knew it the entire BAU and police department were in my apartment.
I was ushered outside by Hotch and Morgan for questioning.
"What exactly happened when you found the package?" Hotch asks me as I sit down on the steps just outside the complex.
"I-I came home from the Bureau and found the package but something felt off..so I took the note from under the ribbon and it had a creepy Shakespeare quote which I would later learn had to do with the..head..inside, but I called over Spencer because I was scared and that's when we opened it" I say, shivering after every word.
"Spencer told me when you were in middle school you were in Shakespeare, could this be connected?" He asks.
"I..I don't know, it could be but we never did Hamlet" I said as I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
"I just need to sleep and I'll be able to make the best profile I can by tomorrow afternoon" I say as I look up at him.
"I'm sorry Y/N but you're a victim, therefore you are a part of our victimology and I cannot allow you to work on this case" he says sternly.
"But hotch! This case is centered around me, I-If I don't do something more people are going to die and I will not let that happen" I plead.
"The case being centered around you is exactly why we can't have you on it, my decision is final" Hotch glares.
"Listen Y/N I get this is hard but I promise we're gonna find whoever did this to you" Morgan says with a glimpse of hope.
"So while you're out there doing whatever the hell you're doing I'm supposed to sit here and wait for another head to turn up!?" I yell, standing up from the stairs.
"What happens if he decides he wants to send my head to one of you while I'm here, vulnerable and alone!" I add.
"We will have an agent with you at all times" Hotch assures me.
"Who?" I ask.
"You can have Spencer or Penelope" he adds.
"I want Spencer" I reply.
"Very well then" Hotch says before he and Morgan walk back to the black suburban.
I laid my hand on my forehead as I started walking back into my apartment. Almost everyone had left, besides a few CSI workers testing the carpet outside my door.
And Spencer.
"I just uh..got a call from Hotch that I'm supposed to be staying with you until we catch the unsub right?" He asks, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Yeah..hotch said I could have another agent with me" I say as I enter my apartment.
"So uh- do you think I could go home and back some bags?" He asks with a slight smile.
“Oh yeah..would you mind if I came with you tho I don’t feel too safe on my own right now” I confess, slightly ashamed of my cowardice.
“That’s fine just don’t mind my apartment is slightly messy” he replies as we walk back outside.
I hop into the passenger seat of his car and we drive a few miles away to his apartment.
The car ride was filled with quick conversations and yawns .
“I don't mean to be a bother but do you think we could sleep at my house..I’m a little too tired to pack right now..” Spencer says as he rubs his tired eyes.
“I don’t mind” I reply with a quick yawn.
“I think I have some pajamas and there’s a pull-out on my couch so I think we’ll be ok..” he adds.
“Sounds good” I mumble, resting my head on hand.
When we enter his apartment it looks very neat and smells of old books and coffee.
He locks the door behind him and resets his alarm system.
I stand tiredly in front of his door as he runs into his bedroom, soon returning with a sweatshirt and pants.
“I don’t know if these will fit too well but they should be ok for tonight..” he says shyly, handing me the clothes.
“Thanks..” I rub my eyes as he leads me to his bathroom.
“You can change in here if you want..I’ll just be setting up the pullout” he adds as he opens the door for me.
I slowly walk inside and flick on the light switch, the bright light hurting my eyes.
I slip out of my work clothes and fold them on the sink before stepping into the comforting pair of sweats. I walk back out and see the pullout bed on the floor neatly made and decorated with pillows.
“I know it’s not too big but I think it’s better than just the couch” he says as he adjusts the comforter.
“Thank you Spencer really, you didn’t have to” I say with a sleepy smile.
“No need to thank me, just doing my job” he replies with his signature straight smile.
“Well goodnight..try and get as much sleep as you can, if you need me I’ll just uh be in here” he says as he points to his bedroom.
“Goodnight Spencer” I reply as I climb onto the bed.
He slightly nods his head in acknowledgment before walking off into his bedroom.
I pull the warm covers on top of me and try my best to preoccupy myself with thoughts other than the severed head found earlier.
Which was not working, but who could blame me.
However, soon enough I felt my eyelids start to get heavy, and I softly rested my head on a pillow and went to sleep.
#x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#fluff
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I don’t like how this show treats its poc actors/characters. For a show that’s so much about “diversity” and for women, how come there’s only one female poc lead so far and she was sidelined in her own season, and even now can’t get a proper storyline. Also do not get me started on how it diminishes female trauma/stories to service the male leads or tick boxes. Just showing women having sexual agency isn’t enough. Write female characters with their full depth. I’m just tired with the way Kate/Simone Ashley is being treated and I can’t be bothered putting my energy into this show.
Also I love Jonathan Bailey with my whole heart and will watch anything that he’s in. However, I hate this fandom’s treatment of Rege Jean Page. The man had full right to leave the show, he would do himself a disservice by being on it. Stop the whole “Jonny is still on the show and is booked and busy, while Rege still isn’t when he left the show for that reason”, yes and? He left because he felt that was right for his career, and at the end of the day Jonny is a white man and Rege is not, if the world treats them differently, you really think production companies won’t. Look at how Bridgerton treats its fucking poc characters and how the fandom treats them too. They was so much hate being spewed at Charithra and Simone by the “fans” during season 2 it was disgusting. And now at Masali for the genderbend.
Yes I’m not very happy with the fact we won’t get Francesca’s story in its full authenticity. Especially when the book deals with her having infertility issues and how she copes with it. But the fandom is acting as if Masali is responsible for this. LGBT romance stories are needed and are important and gender bending Michael is not the be all end all. But I have no expectations from this show to deliver. I mean they did away with the whole pining of Michael/a because in the show it looks like Francesca falls first. Which takes away from the premise of WHWW because Francesca was in love with John and a huge part of the story is her being able to allow herself to love Michael/a. The way this show could not handle a simple love story with Colin and Penelope, I genuinely have no trust in them being able to deal with a lesbian love story and where one lead is dealing with the grief of widowhood and infertility.
I think this show is ticking boxes at this point, delivering the bare minimum and then expecting everyone to be happy with it. And it’s becoming more and more clear to me that the only people who have bothered to read the books are the actors themselves, because the show runners look like they just read the titles of the books and ran with it.
Polin’s story was told even worse than how Kanthony’s story was told and that’s saying something. The aesthetics were so off this season and rather than Benedict having something useful to do the man was just there being the town bike (something he’s done for the past 2 seasons), why was my man not painting is beyond me.
When the show runner had said that kanthony are now a boring married couple that told me everything I needed to know. As if married couples don’t have challenges. Also sending them away for the worst reasons was so out of character, like just read fucking fanfiction and adapt that at this point. There was so much to explore with them and they didn’t so yeah I’m quite done.
I’m going to treat the show as some fucked up parallel universe to the books, because yes the book characters are problematic but at least their stories are told properly and every couple gets their due.
A good-bye or perhaps a brief pause to the bee show?
Being a Kanthony fan is hard right now. Not only the way they were sidelined, but also because they are the only couple without an onscreen wedding or baby. It feels almost deliberate, petty even while the show continues to milk their popularity for views...
I was, anyways, not very invested in this season, and now all my desire to watch future seasons has just fizzled out. I love the people in this fandom, they have fed all of us with great content. Unfortunately, I only have negative things to say right now. I don't have anything positive to contribute, so maybe it's time to bow out, well for some time at least. I will lurk in the fandom and maybe catch up on some of the amazing stories by writers a million times more talented than the show's.
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Good Company - Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader
WC: 4.4K / navi / preview
Summary: You’re stuck rooming with Hotch on your first case with the BAU. You’re confused as to why everyone is shooting you sympathetic glances, but a talk with Hotch himself reveals that he’s a lot softer than he lets on, and that you’re the only one who cared to notice.
Contents/Warnings: Hotch gets the love that he deserves !!!! Some self-doubt/self deprecation, and slight mentions of a typical cm case and its contents
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
You didn’t think you’d ever looked forward to collapsing in a stiff hotel bed more than you were now. You had just finished day one of your first ever case on the job, and the paranoia settled in your chest almost outweighed your exhaustion.
It didn’t, though. You nearly fell asleep in the van, the snow blanketing the sidewalks as you made your way to your hotel for the night. You had been warned already that the heating system in the hotel was less-than-satisfactory, but you were determined to bury yourself under at least three blankets, and get as much sleep as possible until you had to be up again in the morning.
You were barely able to rouse yourself from your sleepy state when the van was parked, but you hauled yourself out into the snow anyways. Your bag was packed into the trunk, and you waited for Morgan to take his out first, slipping in beside him and letting the bag hang at your side.
You shuffled into the hotel lobby beside JJ, who smiled sympathetically at you. You were sure she’d had her fair share of late nights on the job, and you applauded her for being so strong.
Hotch, who had gone to talk to the receptionist, picked up four room keys, meaning two people per room. Penelope had (reluctantly) joined you for this case, as the local police department was sorely lacking in technological strength. You’d needed all hands on deck to sift through their security camera footage, and who better than your very own technical analyst?
You didn’t have time to plan out a roommate for the night, filing into the elevator with the rest of your team and offering a tired smile at Reid who caught your eye on the way in. Your eyes practically closed in the elevator, the soft hum of the machinery lulling you to sleep even though you were standing up.
Prentiss seemed to notice, snorting softly and bumping against your shoulder. You weren’t very balanced, your eyes shooting open as you stumbled sideways, knocking Hotch against the wall of the elevator. Your face hit his shoulder, your head bumping gently against the wall as he hurried to stabilize you. His hand found a grip around your waist, then flitted quickly to the small of your back once he’d hauled you onto your feet.
“I’m so sorry!” You rushed to steady yourself again, your eyes still panicked from your almost-fall, “I didn’t mean to-”
“Y/L/N,” Hotch let a miniscule, reassuring smile cross his features, “It’s fine. Are you okay? It looked like you hit your head.”
“I’m fine,” You raised your free hand to brush gently over where you’d hit the wall, feeling no residual pain, “It didn’t hurt.”
Hotch nodded at you, his eyes drifting back to Prentiss who stood casually in the corner, chatting with Reid and trying to pretend like she hadn’t been the reason for your fall. You noticed a hint of sternness in his gaze, though you had to look away before you could evaluate it, just in case he caught you staring.
Thankfully, you only had to go to the fourth floor of the hotel. If you had stood in that elevator for much longer, you would have died, either out of exhaustion or embarrassment from ramming into your boss.
Finally the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open before you. You had to let Rossi and Morgan out before you, but you filed quickly behind them, purposely bumping into Prentiss on the way out. She only smirked, and you reluctantly let a smile flit over your face, your friendly teasing amusing to you both.
You had half a mind to ask to room with her, but you didn’t have time to do anything about that before Hotch was turning to face you all. You hadn’t noticed him slip past you to be at the front of the group, and you hoped that he’d missed you shoving Prentiss in the hallway.
“Okay, let’s pair up.” He spoke simply, and you turned to Emily, realizing that she was already headed towards JJ. You floundered slightly, watching as Garcia clung tight to Morgan’s arm, the pair already giggling about some stupid joke.
You sought out Reid next, but he was in the middle of rambling animatedly to Rossi about a documentary that he’d been wanting to share with the man, and not even Rossi’s half-panicked expression at his new roommate was enough to get you to interrupt him and ask to be his roommate instead.
Before you could process the situation, you felt a tentative hand on your shoulder.
“It looks like we’re together for the night.” Hotch murmured, his voice low between you in the dim hallway, “I’m sorry you didn’t have much choice.”
You frowned at his apology, your mouth falling open to ask him to clarify, but he was already taking your bag from your hands, hoisting it over his shoulder and tossing everyone else their keys.
“Everyone meet back at the precinct by seven tomorrow,” Hotch made eye contact with each of his agents, “And get some sleep. We need to be on top of our game.”
You waved a brief goodbye to everyone as Hotch opened his door, catching Morgan’s eye as he mouthed an, ‘I’m sorry,’ at you. His sympathy confused you just as much as Hotch’s earlier statement had, and your frown only deepened, hearing the door click behind you as the lock was turned.
“Go ahead,” Hotch pushed the door open for you, your bag still hiked over his shoulder, “You can pick which bed you want.”
You felt around blindly for a light switch, your fingers curling around it when you felt the cool plastic. A quick flick of the switch revealed not two twin beds, but one queen bed, standing proudly in the middle of the room, like it was taunting you.
Hotch seemed to notice at the same time that you did, a soft, ‘Oh.’ coming from behind you as you stilled in the door. You broke out of your trance a second later, making a beeline for the loveseat that stood against the wall.
“I’ll stay here for the night,” You reached for your bag, but he stepped away from you, frowning skeptically at the sofa.
“You need to get a good night’s sleep, Y/N. This is your first time here, you can’t compromise your health like that. I can take it for the night, it’s okay.”
“No!” You urged, “No, I’d feel so guilty if I made you sleep on that. Seriously, it’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“I do,” Hotch frowned, glancing tentatively at the bed, waiting a moment before speaking again, ‘It’s big enough to share, if you’re comfortable with that.”
You were glad that he’d suggested the somewhat compromising sleeping arrangement, because you hadn’t been looking forward to sleeping on what was sure to feel like cinderblocks. But you didn’t want to push his boundaries, so you had stayed silent.
At his offer you nodded with a soft smile on your face, “That’s fine with me.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, no longer stiff under the dark fabric of his suit jacket. He set your bag beside the bed, letting his fall to the floor with an unceremonious thump on the other side.
You were glad that you’d showered that morning, not wanting to waste any possible sleeping time in a hotel bathroom.
“I’m gonna shower tonight,” He seemed to have read your thoughts, gesturing to the bathroom, “Did you wanna go first?”
“I’ll take one in the morning,” You waved him off, “Go ahead.”
He nodded, grabbing a change of clothes from his bag and locking himself in the tiny bathroom. You heard the shower turn on while you were reaching for a book in your bag, and you could tell just by the sound of the water that the pressure was terrible. You weren’t looking forward to tomorrow morning.
You busied yourself with your book while Hotch was in the shower, your eyes drooping steadily. You didn’t want to go to sleep yet, though, because if Hotch came out of the shower and saw you asleep, you knew he’d make an extra effort to be quiet, and you didn’t want to inconvenience him.
Your eyes scanned the page in front of you, but your mind wandered. Why had both Morgan and Hotch apologized to you before you got inside? What were they apologizing for? You tried wracking your brain, but the only thing you could think of that would warrant an apology was Prentiss knocking you over in the elevator, and even she hadn’t apologized for that.
You finally gave into your curiosities when you heard the shower shut off, grabbing your phone and pulling up Morgan’s contact.
Hey, you typed, your fingers slightly less nimble than they normally were as you fought your exhaustion, Why did you apologize earlier? What were you sorry for?
He replied fairly quickly, and you rolled your eyes fondly at the knowledge that he wasn’t asleep yet. You weren’t sure if he or Penelope would sleep at all that night, too caught up in giggling and making jokes and enjoying each others’ presence.
‘You got the short end of the stick. No one ever rooms with Hotch. You’re gonna have a long night.’
Why? You replied, your brows furrowing. Did he kick in his sleep? Did he snore? Did he set obnoxious alarms for way too early in the morning?
‘Are you kidding? He’s a hardass! I can’t imagine sharing a room with him, is he barking orders at you? Has he demanded you be in bed, lights out yet?’
He’s not always like that, You scoffed lightly at Morgan’s judgements, He’s a normal person??
‘I think I’ve seen him smile twice.’
Well that sounds like he’s got nothing to smile about around you, You typed out bitterly, uneasiness growing in your chest as you realized why Hotch was probably so reserved around the office, And I wouldn’t either if my coworkers expected me to bite their heads off 24/7.
You didn’t bother replying to whatever half-joke that Morgan made back, setting your phone on the nightstand with a huff. Something inside of your chest ached as you realized that your team regarded your boss as only that, and never considered the person that he was outside the office. You were well aware that Hotch had been through significant trauma in his life, and was surlier than most. But you also knew that he wasn’t like that all the time. You’d seen him smile three times over the past two days, all centered around pictures and videos of his son that he’d been sent. Apparently no one was looking hard enough at their boss to see who he was underneath the title, and his mannerisms made sense now.
The bathroom door opened, and Hotch stepped out onto the thick hotel carpet. You glanced up from your book and offered him a smile at his reentry, and you saw the neutral frown on his face lift slightly.
“Aren’t you tired?” He gestured to the book in your hands, and you shrugged.
“I didn’t wanna pass out and then force you to tiptoe around for the rest of the night. I’ll sleep soon.”
His face fell slightly, and he wrestled with his suit jacket, slipping it over the hanger that he’d stored his dress shirt on, “Y/N, I’m sorry for making you think…” He started, but his face darkened even more and he thought better of it, shaking his head, “You- you can go to sleep. I want you to rest well, this is your first case on the job and you need to take care of yourself.”
You didn’t point out his usage of your first name, but it only further proved your point. He dropped his professional air in the privacy of the hotel room, addressing you as a person and not as a subordinate.
“No, no, it’s okay. I actually wanted to ask you something,” You set your book aside, shifting your body so that you were facing him as he hung up his suit, “Is that okay?”
“Go ahead,” He looked confused, a frown wrinkling his brows, “Is everything okay?”
“You tell me,” You let out a breathy laugh, “Why do you keep apologizing?”
“What do you mean?”
‘First you apologized when we paired up for the night. Now you’re apologizing because I wasn’t already asleep. What are you sorry for in both of those scenarios?”
A resigned smile crossed his features at your words, a pretty sight but one that saddened you, “I’m very well known among the team as the one to avoid rooming with.”
“Do you kick in your sleep or something?” You voiced a concern from earlier, “‘Cause if I’m gonna end up on the floor, I’ll just take the couch.”
“I think you’d be better off sleeping on the floor than the couch,” Hotch threw a disdainful glance at the sofa in the corner, “But no, I think everyone’s just scared to room with their boss.”
“That’s dumb.” You huffed, your words deepening the smile on his face, “It’s not like we’re on the clock or anything.”
“I’m sure I’m not the best company either way,” He mused, his eyes anywhere but meeting your own, “I don’t blame them for avoiding me.”
As his smile widened, your frown did the same. He spoke of his terrible reputation with a wistful air, like he wanted to change it but didn’t know how, or didn’t think he could. The ache in your chest felt like it was splitting you apart by now, the man standing in front of you wringing your heart out with his admission.
“You’re great company.” You spoke, and you watched his eyes widen slightly. He froze for a second, then his hands continued fumbling with his tie, his cheeks growing rosy.
“I’m glad you think so,” He murmured, “Haven’t heard that in a while.”
“Hotch,” You crawled across the bed, kneeling on his side, “Do you believe them?”
“What do you mean?” He hummed, though he continued fussing with his belongings instead of looking at you.
“Do you believe the team when they make jokes about you? About how you’re no fun, or that you’re too serious?”
“I am too serious,” He let out a breathy laugh, “Just because they’re made as jokes doesn’t mean they’re not true.”
“But you’re not always like that!” You urged, “You have a life outside of work. Just because they don’t always see it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist, or that it’s not really you. I’ve seen you smile, and laugh, and crack jokes, and I’ve only been here for a month.”
“I…” Hotch started, opening his mouth to speak and shutting it again quickly. You could see the conflict brewing behind his eyes, then finally he found his voice again, “Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I doing what?”
“Why are you trying to persuade me that I’m fun to be around?”
“Because you are.” You spoke plainly, shifting your legs so that they hung over the side of the bed, “And I don’t want you to keep thinking you’re not.”
“I appreciate your efforts,” Hotch let a smile break through his expression again, this time much more genuine and positive, “But you’re going to have to listen to them say stuff like that for as long as you work here.”
“Well they can say whatever they want, we’ll know it’s not true.”
Hotch’s smile only grew, and he shook his head slightly, glancing down at the ground, “You’re very persistent.”
“Is it working?”
“Yes,” He finally glanced up at you, appreciation painted over his face, “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Anytime,” You grinned, scooting back to your side of the bed, “And if they ever bother you again, I’ll take care of ‘em.” You waved a fist in the air threateningly, and it drew an incredulous laugh from Hotch who crawled under the blankets beside you, occupying the spot you’d just vacated.
“I’d love to see Prentiss’s face when she realizes you’re my protector now.”
The teasing title warmed your heart, as did the soft smile on Hotch’s face. He looked comfortable, not only physically in his flannel pajama bottoms and t-shirt, but emotionally as well, if his eyes lingering on your own was any evidence.
“I’d love to get her back for pushing me in the elevator,” You recalled nearly tipping Hotch over, “Just say the word and I’ll attack.”
You could tell that your joke amused him, but at the mention of the near-disaster earlier, his smile faded. He reached out without thinking, the gesture somewhat intimate in the bed between you, his fingers brushing softly over the spot on your head that you’d bumped.
“Are you-” He intended to make sure you were okay, but he seemed to realize just how intimate the touch really was, blushing softly once more, “Sorry, I didn’t think- I just wanted to make sure…”
“It’s fine,” You waved off his concerns, slightly disheartened when he pulled his hand away, “My head doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Do you remember your name?” He recovered from his momentary awkwardness quickly, raising one eyebrow in a teasing expression.
“No,” You let out a yawn, the gesture aiding your sentence perfectly, “But I think that’s because of how tired I am, not because I have a concussion.”
“I hope you’re right.” Hotch murmured, reaching blindly behind him to feel for the light switch, pointedly not turning away from you, “Good night, Y/N.”
“Night Hotch,” You mumbled, your eyes slipping shut, “See you in the morning.”
He hummed softly, flicking the light off and settling his head on the pillow, “You can call me Aaron.”
“Tomorrow,” Your brain could barely form the thoughts you wanted to get out, too consumed already by exhaustion, “I’m too sleepy tonight.”
He let out a soft laugh, and you felt his knee gently graze yours beneath the blankets, “Right, tomorrow.”
--
It turned out that Aaron didn’t set obnoxious alarms for way too early in the morning, his phone chiming at only six-thirty. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to make it to the precinct on time, but you appreciated the extra sleep.
You were much closer than you remembered being to Aaron in the queen bed, the both of you having shifted in your sleep to be pressed against one another. One of his hands was wound around your waist, the other beneath your head, acting as your pillow. One of your hands was resting between you two, spread out over his broad chest, as the other was slung over his shoulders. The proximity left a strange, warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you chalked it up to the stifling heat you’d awoken to.
Aaron’s alarm was still chirping on the nightstand, but apparently he couldn’t hear it from where he was burrowed into the crown of your head. Your face was tucked neatly into his neck,and you felt his breath fan out over your skin. You smiled fondly at the way he’d snuggled up to you in his sleep, knowing full well that he hadn’t intended to, and would be adorably bashful once he found out.
You kept your promise from the night before, gently patting his shoulder when he didn’t stir at the alarm, “Aaron,” You mumbled sleepily, “Aaron, it’s time to get up. We’ve gotta get back to the precinct.”
He groaned gruffly, his arms only tightening around you. You giggled softly at his haziness, this time patting his chest, “Come on! We’ll get so much shit if we’re late.”
He stayed still for a moment, but you could feel him gradually waking up, a long sigh escaping him after a yawn, “I thought you said it didn’t matter what the team said.”
You groaned as he quoted your statement from the night before, reluctantly wriggling away from him, “Yeah, but I also wanna find this woman and go home.”
He seemed to agree with that argument, his arms loosening in their grip around you. You blinked slowly as you woke yourself up completely, and because of the way that Aaron had pulled back, his face was level with yours. You felt his eyes on you, and you blearily stared at him too, returning the soft smile that he gave you.
“You slept well?” You guessed at the reason for the bashful grin on his face.
“Best I’ve slept in forever,” You decided not to look into his flattering statement too far, your eyes glued to his own as you agreed.
“Me too.” You prolonged the eye contact for moment, and you could have sworn that he shifted slightly closer to you. Your heart began racing, any leftover drowsiness from waking up completely gone as you watched him inch forward. Your hand was still braced on his chest and you let your fingers curl gently into the front of his shirt, ready to let your eyes slip closed when his phone rang on the nightstand.
He froze, his lovesick gaze on you remaining for only a moment. Then, he was arching backwards, grabbing the phone from his nightstand and sitting up to hold it to his ear. Your hand fell away from his chest, and you caught your breath while he spoke to whoever was on the end of the line.
“Yeah, we’re coming.” He rubbed a hand over his face, still clearly half asleep, “We’ll be there soon.”
He hung up, setting the phone back on his nightstand and turning to face you. You hauled yourself upright, your heart still pounding in your chest. You would give anything to be trapped in that singular, serene moment until the end of time, the closeness and intimacy of what could have been tempting you more than anything ever had before.
“We’re a little late,” He smiled fondly at you while you checked your phone, “We should head over there now.”
“I’ll go get dressed,” You gestured to the bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”
You missed the way that his eyes tracked you as you headed into the bathroom, your clothes for the day in hand. A certain adoration lined his eyes, and he had to shake himself out of his daze to get himself dressed.
You were changed faster than he thought you’d be, because when you stepped out of the bathroom once more, he was half-naked. His slacks were unzipped, his chest on full display as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Your cheeks flared, and he bit his cheek, containing the smirk that threatened to slip past his lips as you hurried to your side of the bed, shoving your pajamas in your bag haphazardly.
He tucked his now-buttoned shirt into his slacks, buttoning them and reaching for his belt. He saw the way that your eyes lingered on his hands while they slid the leather strap through the loops on his slacks, and he basked in your attention.
“We can grab breakfast on the way,” Next he went after his tie, slinging it haphazardly over his neck, “There’s this place down by the precinct that we can drive-” He stopped dead in his sentence as he reached for his bag, feeling your hand on his arm. You turned him to face you, your eyes flitting to the tie over his neck rather than his own that stared down questioningly at you.
Your fingers twisted the tie around itself, brushing against his chest far more often than they needed to. But he relished the contact, finally letting his smile grow over his cheeks once more as you tied his tie.
You adjusted it once the knot was in place, tightening it to his neck and tugging at his collar when it threatened to crease, “There.”
“Thanks.” At his voice, you looked up at him, and your eyes widened slightly with just how close you were.
You were trapped in another one of those suspenseful moments, the ones that had your heart fluttering and your breath catching in your throat. You so desperately wanted Aaron to kiss you, and he so desperately wanted you to kiss him, but all anyone did was stare into the other’s eyes. Your smiles grew the longer you stared, his eyes twinkling in adoration as yours shimmered similarly in excitement.
You stood frozen, close enough to each other that you shifted forwards slightly, and were pressed against his chest. Your bold move seemed to give him all of the confirmation that he needed, and his large, rough hands came up to cup your cheeks, tilting your face upwards. He leaned down in one confident swoop, his lips pressing to yours as his eyes fell shut.
Your hands twisted themselves desperately in the collar of his suit jacket, tugging him impossibly closer to you by the fabric. He seemed to understand what you wanted, deepening the kiss while setting a hand on your hip, tugging you in closer. Your cheek was cold now that Aaron’s hand wasn’t covering it, but the warmth that his lips brought you filled your chest and flushed to your cheeks, heating you right back up.
You let out a soft hum into the kiss, a sound that made his hand tighten in its grip around your hip. His tongue swiped sensually over your lower lip, and you wanted nothing more than to part your lips, granting him the access he so confidently sought.
You would have done it, too, if there hadn’t been rampant pounding on the door only seconds after he’d kissed you.
“Guys,” Morgan’s voice was slightly annoyed, something you’d never heard from the man directed at his boss, “Come on! We’re all waiting on you, are you even up?”
Aaron sighed, breaking away from the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. He had a sheepish grin on his face, making him look as youthful as you’d ever seen him, and he mumbled an apology against your lips.
“We’ll continue this later?” He murmured, keeping his voice low enough so that Morgan couldn’t hear it from outside.
“Definitely,” You nodded, for once hoping that you’d drag out the case long enough to stay another night, “I think we should start rooming together more often.”
Aaron reluctantly let you go as the knocking intensified, but the soft smile was still lingering on his face, “They’re gonna think you’re crazy.”
“Let them,” You started for the door, swinging it open and dodging Morgan’s fist which was still knocking on nothing, not noticing that you’d opened the door. The man glared exasperatedly at you, expecting an explanation as to why you'd been so unresponsive, but you didn't grant him one. Instead, you turned back to Aaron, who had stiffened slightly at the near-accident, sending him a reassuring smile, “I don’t care.”
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