#Rossi: I remembered when he didn’t talk I should have known he had be just like his dad

[only-one-brain-cell]

Headcanon that Spencers son develops a hyperfixation on dinosaurs after reading about them at the library so anytime he gets a change all he talks about is dinosaurs and of course the BAU is hanging onto his every word. (of course so are his parents Spencer is the one that brought him to the library.)

[masterwords]

between you and me

Summary: Hotch & Morgan go out into the wilderness for a weekend survival competition. They're wet, muddy and happy. That's all. There isn't a plot here.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: a lot of swearing, dude talk, food, chronic pain (hotch), foyet & stabbing mentions

AO3: between you and me

Notes: I had this image of them being skilled and competent and really adorable in the woods, and this is what came of it. A lot harder to write than you would think - it's so much just snappy dialogue and vibes. Don't expect poetry. Also, it should go without saying but: I made this up. This is not a real thing, I just wanted to put them in the woods with low-stakes and the ability to have some fun together doing the insane type adrenaline junkie shit I know those fools would enjoy. So, I made up an incredibly silly scenario and went all in.

***

“Both of you?” Rossi asked with a smirk. Looks like a cat who just got a mouthful of canary. “How long ago did you put in?”

“They’ve been passing me up for five years, Rossi.” Morgan lamented his misery convincingly while Hotch just smiled in that gentle, confident but subdued way he had that said I win. Everything was a competition with them.

“I’m at eight. They claimed it was too hard to justify putting a Unit Chief out of commission for three days, what if I had to be recalled and there was no service? And then when they did finally select me…”

“Foyet. I remember.” Rossi almost hated using the man’s name, like it might bring him back from the dead. He was hesitant and let his eyes linger on Hotch for a moment longer than necessary, gauging his reaction. It had been two years but he wasn’t sure time really mattered when trying to heal something like that. To his credit, Hotch gave no real indication that it made any difference. He simply nodded somberly and agreed – yes, he’d been chosen, and then Foyet met him in his apartment and bled him out, stopped his heart, rendered him incapable of participating. And ever since then, they’d pulled the Unit Chief speech when he asked why he wasn’t selected but he knew – they were afraid of his physical status after the stabbing. He must finally have worn them down, or proven that he was physically capable. Or maybe they were just tired of him throwing his name in the bucket and had a pool going to see how far he could make it before he collapsed. He might be wondering that himself.

“And you still want to do it? Go spend three days in the woods miserable with no roof over your head, no bed to sleep in, no good food or hot running water?”

“Bold talk comin’ from a Marine…”

“Ever heard of the draft, smart ass?”

“Fair enough. But we’re doing it and yes, we want to do it.” Derek had no idea if Rossi was being honest about the draft situation, he’d known he was a vet but he realized he didn’t know that much about Rossi’s service. Didn’t seem like the time to ask, anyway.

“Will you be together or are they separating you?”

“No idea. We’ll find out at the debrief tonight, they’re serving dinner and giving us our assignments. I’m assuming we’ll be separate, can’t imagine why they’d keep us together. It’s gotta be like a lottery situation. God I hope I don’t get paired up with some DEA asshat.”

“It’s only branches of the FBI this round,” Hotch pointed out, leaving through the paperwork he’d been given. It was vague about most details, just dates and times and a whole lot of TBA. It made his skin prickle. “Awfully secretive.” That he muttered more to himself, but Derek heard and it got his wheels turning.

“Well, damn. And here I thought you boys might be getting a date night out of this.”

That made Hotch and Morgan both laugh. They did like things a little off the beaten path when it came to their personal lives, but that’s what you get when you put two adrenaline junkies together in close quarters – what they considered dates weren’t exactly things other couples might. They preferred a day out on their bikes in the mountain air to a movie night, and an evening at the swimming pool taking laps and sucking chlorine was better than a stuffy and expensive candlelit dinner. So to say that a weekend spent in the woods utilizing survival training skills instead of lounging around the house sounded like a date wasn’t far off base. Of course, in Rossi’s very wise opinion, he thought they could both better use their time by simply taking a nap.

As it turned out, they were partnered up. It was a department challenge, two from counter-terrorism, two from organized crime, two from BAU, two from the fugitive task force, two from political corruption and two from the cyber crimes unit. Hotch looked around at the people he knew and tried to imagine them in the woods, tried to imagine them with a better partner than his. “We’ve got this,” he whispered to Derek who simply nodded his approval. It was a competition, and the two of them were not in the habit of losing, even to people who were in far better shape than them. Derek had been battling a chest cold the week prior, though he seemed to be mostly in the clear, and Hotch had overdone it playing soccer with Jack and been dealing with some latent knee pain for the last few days. The medications they’d put him on after the stabbing struck him with only mild side effects most of the time, but the most cumbersome was the intermittent bouts of joint pain. It came and went, usually after he’d overdone it and he was very good at overdoing it. Overdoing it was kind of his specialty.

One day of training with Commander Stevens, a Navy SEAL who had the brilliant idea to put the FBI through the ringer. Just for fun, or so he implied. “Torture the pencil pushers,” was what Hotch overheard him whispering with some fellow officers. Hotch wasn’t motivated by needing to prove himself to anyone but he was certain some of these people at the tables eating pinwheel sandwiches from Costco were allowing their feathers to be ruffled by the insinuation that they weren’t tough enough. That alone would give him a competitive edge – he didn’t need to prove himself to anyone.

They had reported to Quantico at 6am for the first of it, bright eyed and coffee in hand. Derek’s cold was all but gone and Hotch felt good. Optimistic. They spent the morning in a classroom listening to the Commander lecture about survival in the Appalachians, people who walk the trail, how they get lost and how to avoid it. Survival for beginners is what Derek said later, and he prided himself on not being a beginner. The two of them had spent some time out in the Smokey Mountains, nothing close to the intensity of the next few days but they weren’t strangers to the area. After lunch they spent the afternoon brushing up on skills training, getting their equipment, learning the rules of the game.

“This remind you of those movies where bored rich guys are hunting dudes in the woods?” Derek asked as he tossed his 75lb backpack into their SUV and waited while Hotch did the same. Three days and two nights in the woods walking for upwards of thirty miles when all was said and done with a backpack that weighed as much as Jack strapped to each of their backs, that realization was the first time Hotch felt a little pang of anxiety. He could do it but he was going to pay for it.

“You and Jessica watch too much television.”

“No seriously. This is how they all start, they’re like oh you guys are the best of the best and you won this fantastic retreat or vacation or really high honor of some kind...then bam. You’re being hunted by rich dudes with fuckin’ laser guns you didn’t even know existed yet, some kind of military grade stuff you only see in movies starring Schwarzenegger.”

“Way too much television…”

Derek ran his idea by Jessica while they shared their last family dinner for a few days and she agreed wholeheartedly. Didn’t even miss a beat. “You guys be careful,” she said, clicking her tongue against her teeth. Jack looked on with wide eyes, taking in everything they said but not picking up on the sarcasm lacing every word.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked, trying to make some sense of it in the way young kids do. He still had trouble differentiating fact from fiction, cartoons from reality, and Derek and Jessica were not helping in the slightest. Jessica shot Hotch a look that said to tread lightly. He wasn’t sure if that meant lie through his teeth or be honest. Both felt wrong, and this question was her fault anyway...why should he have to be the one to answer for it? Didn’t seem quite fair.

“It can be, buddy. But I’ll be okay. I’ll be with Derek, and there are fail safes in place if we get into trouble. It’s supposed to be for fun. A learning experience and a game.”

“A game!” That seemed to please him.

“The most dangerous game…” Derek whispered and Hotch elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs.

“Exactly, Jack. A fun game. Kind of like camping and a race...capture the flag for grown ups.”

“Can we go camping soon?” Crisis averted. Jack was no longer concerned about his dads being hunted in the woods. Whatever that meant. He still wasn’t sure.

“Sure buddy.” An easy concession.

Even Hotch couldn’t help feeling a little trepidation when they were dropped into the woods by helicopter. That did feel a little too on the nose, a little too much like one of the movies Derek couldn’t stop talking about. It was meant to disorient them, and it succeeded. “Just like in SWAT,” Derek said as he checked Hotch’s pack and Hotch did the same for him. “You ready?”

“Born ready.” A bit of a stretch, they both knew. But the minute he was standing with this face turned into the wind, that adrenaline rush kicked in and he sucked in a breath of fresh air and helicopter gasoline and maybe he felt like it wasn’t such a stretch after all.

Derek descended the ladder first with Hotch right behind him. The sound of the chopper hurt Hotch’s ears until it disappeared over the treeline and they were left alone with the sounds of the woods. Without a word they each began surveying their surroundings – Hotch consulted his map while Derek walked around and got a lay of the land, checked out the views, climbed up a tree for a better view. In the end, they both decided on the same route. No argument, no issue. Off to a surprisingly easy start.

Jessica had guessed they’d be fighting over which route to take immediately and they couldn’t wait to tell her how wrong she was.

They walked and walked and walked. The air was heavy, the humidity oppressive. Hotch could feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine. Derek seemed to be handling it worse than he was – he’d already taken his long sleeves off. Hotch wouldn’t even think of it for a while yet. He’d rather have the protection from bugs. He can handle sweat.

They didn’t talk while they walked, didn’t want to waste precious energy on the first day – it’s all climbing elevation, steep hills that seem to go on and on forever but when they stopped for a moment to have a water break and a bite of food, they settled into quiet and pleasant conversation about things they saw, smelled, heard. Everything seemed to flow together seamlessly, the way Hotch would take the lead in places and Derek would slip by and take the lead in others. Instinctively knowing when one or the other needed a chance to suck wind in the back, slow down and smell the roses so to speak.

They managed almost ten miles before they decided to set up camp for the night. Everyone else had planned to stop around the 8th mile, before the big elevation change. It had sounded nice, too, when they stood at the base of the mound that rose before them, but they were both feeling up to a few extra miles and the weather held while they traveled. They watched a storm rolling in over the tree line and knew they’d rather be further ahead when it finally hit, just in case it took them longer to get going the next day. Having higher ground sounded appealing for a rain storm.

Quietly they set up their little camp, stringing a tarp between trees, getting their fire going, making sure they had what they needed before raising the rest of their packs up into the trees above, wrapped securely in tarp. They had each brought their own sleeping bag and wool blankets, just in case they were caught sleeping in a camp with others, but out here on their own they decided to pool their resources and get cozy.

It was a date night, after all. They’d slipped just enough off the path that they didn’t imagine anyone would wander by them if they slept a little later. It was safe.

The storm hit while they boiled their water to heat up their MRE packets. Out of their selections, Hotch decided they should have the biscuits and gravy with a side of chorizo breakfast tacos. Derek was appalled by his selections but when he looked at the other options he realized they didn’t sound any better. The first pang of homesick hit him then, as he crumbled freeze dried biscuits into a mylar bag and reconstituted their meal. He thought about sitting around the table with Jessica and Jack, with his family, and digging into a delicious warm meal that hadn’t been preserved before he was born. They had a good time describing the flavors of the meal, picking it apart like they were eating at a michelin star restaurant instead of out of mylar bags in the woods. Hotch decided that the biscuits and gravy weren’t half bad for space bag food, but the tacos were appalling. Derek could barely choke down either of them and refused to call them food.

It was soft at first, just the pitter-patter of fat rain drops falling through trees and plopping onto their tarp but soon it began pounding and Derek pushed in closer to Hotch as the ground absorbed the water and crept closer to them. “This is gonna suck,” he said, but he barely meant it. He was leaning against Hotch eating a cookie that was probably made when Rossi was in the Marines and mixing up a cup of powdery lemonade chock full of salty crumbly bits. “This would be better with vodka,” he said, setting the small paper cup to his lips. Hotch smiled and agreed in his sleepy way. He was halfway to lights out already.

The second day was all rain. They woke up wet and packed up their wet camp and set out in wet clothes. Derek threw his ballcap on and Hotch cinched up the hood of his rain jacket until hardly more than his nose protruded from the opening, and that was how they set out very glad they didn’t have to climb that first hill in the mud. The rest of the group was going to have some trouble with their footing. By mid-morning they both had the start of some serious blisters, Derek was freezing, and they were clinging to that small happiness that came with knowing they had given themselves a solid head start on the day. Not as far to go before they could set up camp, light a fire and try to get warm.

Hotch began limping by mid-day. Derek had just decided it was his turn to lead and slowed his pace to drop behind, let Hotch past, and that was when he first noticed. He wondered how long it had been going on behind him. He didn’t seem to care about trying to hide it.

Just a slight limp at first, becoming more and more pronounced as the silent miles wore on. Derek tried to talk him into a water break, a rest, anything. He couldn’t bear to watch it without trying to stop it.

“Derek, we’re three miles from today’s rendezvous and we’re hours ahead of schedule. We keep to the plan, we stop only we get there.”

“You’re limping.”

“And I’ll limp for three more miles.”

The way he said it so matter-of-fact grated on Derek’s nerves. It was the first time he could feel an argument bubbling up in his chest during the whole time they’d been out there. He swallowed it down and pleaded instead.

“Why don’t we just take a breather? You said it yourself, we’re hours ahead of schedule. A short water break, you can rest your leg and I can find my rain jacket.”

Hotch slowed his pace and turned to Derek, softening enough that he didn’t come across mean. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this weekend. “Your rain jacket is tied around your waist, and if I stop now, I might not be able to get going again at this pace. I don’t want to lose momentum.”

“Come on, man. I was hoping this trip would be fun, not miserable.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“So you like limping through the woods?”

“Derek...if my ability to enjoy things was contingent on my body feeling good, I would lead a very different life than I do now. You know that my body has been different since Foyet’s attack and I think I’ve done a pretty good job of not letting it stop us from having fun. Part of that is knowing when I can push through and when I can’t. I can push through this. I can make it three miles. I believe I could make it at least five, if I’m being honest, but I’d rather not.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better…”

“It wasn’t meant to, it was just meant to let you know that I’m not stopping and I am having a good time. This is fun.”

“Yeah. Okay. What is it?”

“My knee.”

“The one you tweaked when we were out with Jack the other day?”

“The very same. Probably just the medication making an overuse issue worse. Please stop worrying and walk faster. Don’t let a guy with a bum knee out-hike you.”

They walked on, the banter predictably turning to light bickering, competitive shit talk, but always smiling. Derek figured it was easier to light up a small argument that would keep them both distracted for the last few miles than continue to try and get Hotch to stop. It was futile to try and get Hotch to do anything he didn’t want to do. That lesson had been a hard one to learn.

They came up on their check in point and were pleased to find that they were the third pair out of ten to pass through. Not bad, considering the limping slowing them down some, though Hotch had blamed it mostly on Derek. From there, all they had to do was find themselves a place to set up camp for the night and wait for everyone else to arrive. This was the only night where there were group activities in store, team building exercises that neither Hotch nor Morgan was thrilled about. They found a place a little off the beaten path, away from the crowd of people who wanted to be close to visit and talk about their experiences. They had no interest in making small talk. With the hope that those ominous clouds overhead would pass them by without dumping on them, they began to quickly assemble their camp. They were already cold and wet, their shoes were wet on the inside and Derek insisted that Hotch prop his leg up on the mound of his pack and put some ice on his knee instead of them hoisting the pack up the tree. They had two portable cold packs that wouldn’t do him much good, but there was a small creek nearby and Derek thought maybe later, if the weather held, they could go stand in it for a while. That would feel good on their aching legs and feet, sweet relief for both of them. For now, they ate some snacks and ended up falling asleep to the pitter-patter of tiny raindrops.

By evening, it was another full scale storm. No thunder and lightning, but soaking wet. No fires, which meant no hot food. Just huddling together under the blankets they had for warmth and eating the convenience food they’d stored – some nuts and dried fruits, granola, bottled water and beef jerky. Not enough to fill either of them up but they were glad for the storm and Derek hadn’t exactly been thrilled at the prospect of freeze dried beef stroganoff or chicken alfredo and peach cobbler that would just make him even more homesick for some real food. The weather had meant that the team building exercises were put on hold and they couldn’t complain about that, certainly.

Instead, they got a second date night, just like Dave had said. They tangled themselves together and shared the blankets for warmth, knowing that they had a definite advantage over anyone not involved in an explicitly forbidden (or at least frowned upon) workplace love affair. They had the kind of warmth that comes from being close, sharing body heat. Derek thought about Jerry and Mason from the fugitive team huddling like this and the thought brought him nearly to laughter.

“Hotch,” Derek whispered after a long silence, after listening to the storm rustle through the trees above them and rattle the tarp, thankful that there was no lightning. He shifted their bodies to get them off of the protruding root that was digging into his hip and curled up a little tighter. “You gonna be okay to walk fifteen miles tomorrow?”

Hotch hummed. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

“We can tap out. Take the day and just chill. No shame in that.”

“Not a chance. Why, are you tired? Do you want to stop?”

“What? No. What…”

“It just sounds like maybe you’re using my knee as a way out.”

“I am not.”

“No?” Hotch asked, smiling as he kissed Derek in the dark, nuzzling his cold nose into Derek’s warm skin. “You sure?”

“Man. Fuck your knee. I hope it gives out on you tomorrow.”

“No you don’t.”

“I’ll leave you behind, let you get snatched by the people hunters.”

“No you won’t.”

Derek sighed. “No I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I forgive you.”

Hotch’s knee held up better than he’d anticipated through the last fifteen miles of the trek. The ache was deep and kept him awake some of the night worrying that he was being over-confident, but by morning it had loosened up some. He was limping and in considerable pain somewhere around the fifth mile but they had a good time, and that was worth plenty of discomfort in his book. By the tenth mile Derek had himself a little limp too, his blisters giving him grief. It wasn’t so much a limp, Hotch thought, as it was a painful waddle through the woods.

“My gooch is on fire,” Derek said when he noticed Hotch scrutinizing the way he was walking. “Damn rain gave me some wicked swamp ass.”

“Derek…” Hotch laughed, shaking his head.

“What? You sayin’ it’s not bothering you?”

Hotch refused to dignify that with an answer.

The last day was gloriously rain free, and where they ended had even better access to the creek than their camp the night before. So they had to trudge through thick, soupy mud and fight their way up past landslides to get to the end...it would make the creek that much better. At more than one spot, Hotch allowed Derek to help hoist him up, pull him up a hill when his knee buckled beneath him and refused to support his weight at certain angles. He couldn’t even be mad about that, not even when Derek insisted that he piggy back to the finish. (Hotch’s staunch refusal to even consider it gave him a hearty laugh, the kind that fueled the rest of his walk. Put a pep in his step, as his mother would say.)

They didn’t arrive first, that was Jerry and Mason from fugitive and Derek assumed it was the thought of snuggling the night before...they were so appalled at it, they didn’t sleep, they just got up and finished the race. Hotch and Derek managed to come in a respectable third and were pleased with it.

“You think the richies got the cyber nerds?”

“We’ll never know,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes at Derek’s question. He had been surprised that the commentary on human hunters had been dropped while they were out in the woods, maybe that was due to his knee taking up too much of Derek’s thoughts. If that was the case, he was thankful for the pain he’d endured that much more.

As soon as all of the formalities were done and everyone had separated, tired and ready for a shower, Hotch sent Jessica a text to let her know where to get them. It was his first time turning on his phone in days and he was glad to slide it back into his bag, ready to kick out of his shoes and do a quick change into shorts and t-shirts for some time in the creek. Everyone else piled out, ready to return to civilization but they wanted to stick around a while. It was the best part of the whole trip, standing in the icy water, all blisters and swollen knee and swamp ass, eating handfuls of trail mix while they waited for Jess and Jack to come pick them up.

“You boys look rough!” Jess called, walking carefully down the slope of pebbly hillside toward the water while Jack and Clooney bounded quickly. No fear. Her feet slipped out from under her more than once in the loose packed ground that had been ravaged by the storms of the last two days. Hotch and Derek just stood in the water and watched, content not to move, just to stand.

Jack and Clooney played with rocks, Jack trying to skip them over the current and Clooney trying to catch them while Jessica attacked them with a barrage of questions from her dry perch on the rocky beach. She wasn’t about to take her shoes off and get in, she knew damn well that water was cold.

“No hunters?”

“No hunters,” Hotch replied quickly. Derek shot him a disparaging look and then glanced at Jessica.

“We don’t know that. We never saw the guys from cyber crimes come out…”

Hotch groaned. “I overheard Jerry from fugitive say that the cyber guys tapped out the first night when it started raining.”

“Sure they did. You believe that? They’re someone’s dinner, buddy.”

Hotch, with a smile, decided he’d had enough of the woods and was ready to go home. He hadn’t been able to take any pain medication while they were out in the woods, not wanting to dull his senses when he needed them, but boy was he ready now to make up for lost time. Jack watched his dad limp gingerly out of the water with a look of concern, and without hesitation Jessica reached out to take his hand. She steadied him as he struggled to find adequate footing on slippery rocks.

“Bum knee?” she asked, stepping dangerously close to the water in her shoes. He made an effort to move a little faster, holding her hand but not letting her do much.

“Yeah. Bum knee.”

“Let me help you old man.” She held his hand tighter and guided him out of the water, letting him lean on her for the short walk up the hill. Derek followed close behind with Jack slung over his shoulder and Clooney nipping at his heels. He’d come back for their packs once his family was securely placed in the vehicle and ready to go. They had a long drive ahead of them.

“He says he’s fine.”

“Oh, yeah, well he definitely looks fine.”

“I am fine.” Hotch was grumbling as he fumbled with his seat belt in Jessica’s little rust bucket of a car. It wasn’t that she couldn’t afford a better car, she just didn’t want one. She loved her old Volkswagen Rabbit that required a special mechanic and wait times that were absurd for broken parts, with its rusted burnt orange paint job and bright flower decals that screamed Woodstock and Grateful Dead. Hotch barely fit in the car and he had to slide in sideways, bending his sore knees at an awkward angle to make sure Jack would fit behind him and Derek could slide in on the other side. Jessica didn’t let anyone else drive her car and she hated when Hotch was in the front seat, his long legs dangerously close to the stick shift. No way he’d fit in the back, though. “You should have brought my car,” Hotch said when she started the engine. It took two tries and at least ten minutes to let the old girl warm up enough that she wouldn’t stall out the minute Jessica tried to hit the gas.

“I hate driving that thing. It’s a grandma car.”

He had no argument there. If grandma car meant safe and secure, if that meant protected, then yeah. He did drive a grandma car. She drove a rust bucket and Derek had a motorcycle, one of them had to be responsible.

“Can we have PIZZA for dinner?!” Jack asked, thrashing around in the backseat and kneeing Hotch in the small of his back repeatedly through the thin, broken down old leather seats. Clooney’s hot breath from the back was overpowering. Hotch frowned and cranked the window down for some air.

“I want steak. A big juicy steak. One that came from a cow that was alive this century.”

“Jess, you up for playing grillmaster tonight? I don’t think I can stand that long…” Derek said, trying to stretch his legs out along the backseat, right over the top of Jack. His seat belt didn’t work anyway, and he was beat. A barbecue did sound nice though, Hotch had the right idea. A big juicy steak, some ibuprofen (and maybe something a little stronger for Hotch), some beers, and a long long nap. After a shower. He had mud in places he didn’t know mud could get.

“If I get to wear your apron and use your fancy spatula. You know the one.”

Derek grunted under his breath about that being his stuff, but he couldn’t argue. If it meant he didn’t have to do the work he’d probably agree to just about anything.

And as the sun sank over the trees, Jessica stood in Derek’s apron (that hung to her knees and looked ridiculous on a woman her size) and started getting the grill ready. She would enjoy getting the chance to be grillmaster for the night, Derek didn’t often relinquish the job. Hotch rarely took it, he preferred to lounge in the hammock, his one true indulgence. It was her turn. She set about cleaning the grill and seasoning it first, going through all the steps before slapping the big fat steaks on to sizzle while Jack and Clooney played. Hotch and Derek, freshly showered and medicated, were content to doze off in the hammock together and wait for their meal which they both promised they would wake back up for.

“If you don’t, Clooney will eat your steaks. There’s always the MREs in your pack for later. I saw one that said it was beef ravioli in meat sauce. Sounds delicious.”

“Why are you so mean?” Derek whined, his voice muffled and sleepy. His face was pressed into the back of Hotch’s head, Hotch who was already fast asleep smelling like sweet shampoo and icy hot. It hadn’t taken him any time at all once his eyes were closed. She smiled and shrugged.

“Go to sleep Derek. I’m sure the mosquitoes will wake you up before I do.”

[the-guilty-writer]

A List of Gill's Favorite Sibling Moments Between Hotch and RR (Part 1)

For those of you who love the dynamic between Hotch and Rossi-Reid as much as I do, here are sections that are my personal favorites of their sibling-like relationship. Some of them aren't even interactions, just very sibling things they do!

---

It's Proposals, Dads, and Halloween, Rossi-Reid!

Hotch telling Spencer not to tell RR that her dad is coming back to work:

Morgan responded, but you tuned out their banter, opening a file and getting to work. You’d only gotten through reading the first few sentences when Spencer said your name. “(Y/N), he’s here.”

“Who-” you looked up from your file just in time to see your dad walk through the bullpen behind Section Chief Strauss. He dropped a wink in your direction, but you were too stunned to reply. “Why is my dad here?” You looked around at your colleagues, your glance finally landing on your husband.

“He’s coming out of retirement,” he said, sitting down unbothered.

You snorted. “Spence, stop trying to scare me.”

“Rossi.” Morgan sat up in his chair. “It’s not a prank. Hotch sent us all a text last night.”

You turned to Emily with a questioning look. “Did you know?”

“I think the real question should be how did you not know?” Emily said.

You looked at your phone, seeing if you had missed the message, but nothing had been sent in the first place.

���Spence, did you get a message?” You turned to your husband.

“I-I did,” Spencer said. You could see the concern in his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hotch told me not to.”

“I’m your wife! You’re supposed to tell me anyway!” You weren’t angry as much as you were annoyed.

---

Figuring Out The Family Buisness

Hotch not pairing RR and Rossi up in the field until he HAS to:

You’d known Hotch long enough to know that he was putting off pairing you with your dad- then again anyone who had heard the story about the Rossi family laser tag game would be. He saw the little ways your dad still treated you like a kid, and he probably always would. You were his daughter. So Hotch put it off until he had no choice.

Actually he put it off until Morgan pretty much forced him to.

And him reminding Rossi where RR got her attitude from:

Hotch walked up beside Rossi. “She gets it from you, you know.”

Rossi sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

Hotch and RR bringing up the office party of 1995:

“Aaron,” Rossi’s tone became exaggerated. “It’s a bar. They could get carried away.”

“What?” Hotch smirked. “Like you did that one time at the office party in 1995-”

“Oh-kay,” Rossi cut him off. “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

And

You gave him a questioning look. “You know, I remember back in 1995 after an office party when you-”

Rossi held up his hand to stop you. “Let’s not bring that up.”

Then Spencer thinking they might have made it up as a joke:

“So,” he whispered. “The office party of 1995 is a true story? I thought you and Hotch were just making that up.”

You smiled sleepily. “Nope,” you whispered back. “No way we could make that up.”

---

Damaged

RR sending a risky text to Haley before the divorce:

You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts, looking for Haley’s number. You weren’t sure what you were going to do. You weren’t going to call her- she never picked up anymore. Every text you’d sent had gotten no reply. There wasn’t anyone there to tell you what to do… except for you.

Your dad would have scolded you for being too involved, Spencer would have just taken your phone and held it above his head so you couldn’t reach, and Hotch… Well, for the first time in a long time you didn’t know what Hotch would do. So you typed the message out and pressed send before putting your phone in your pocket and pushing the thought to the back of your mind.

And RR knowing Hotch well enough to tell he was signing the papers:

You looked up too- seeing that Hotch was in his office. Normally you would have gone to say hello and maybe tease him about having missed all the fun, but even from where you sat you could tell that he was far more distressed than normal. The papers he was holding weren’t just from a case. They were personal.

---

The First Week

Hotch and RR on her first day as an Agent at the BAU:

There, waiting for you by the glass doors, was a face that you’d been missing for a long time- one that had driven you to school, and cheered at your championship soccer game; one that picked you up from a party the first time you got wasted and had no one else to call. One that reminded you that the old Italian saying il sangue non e acqua simply wasn't true.

“(Y/N),” Aaron smiled at you, his arms open for a hug. You couldn’t help yourself- you threw yourself into his embrace, squeezing your arms around his shoulders. He hugged you back just as tight, if not tighter. “Or should I say Agent Rossi.”

“Gross,” you replied and pulled away, allowing yourself a few seconds to be the BAU’s resident teenage pest again. “Seriously, just call me (Y/N). But…” you smiled ominously. “I did hear you can’t be annoyed at me anymore for calling you Hotch anymore. Sounds like you’re actually rather fond of your nickname now.”

He chuckled and you knew that the both of you were remembering the first time you had shortened his last name, his insistence that you didn’t call him that and your determination to annoy him by continuously ignoring his request. “It’s more convenient,” he admitted. “Anyway, let me give you the tour.”

---

Where Did The Time Go?

RR, Hotch, and a rather inappropriate inside joke:

“Well,” Hotch said, walking into the room and tossing a file down onto the table. “We finally got the M.E. report.”

You abandoned Reid and his maps in favor of going over to the table to look at the new information. You had to wedge yourself around Morgan to get a look, but as soon as you saw it, you knew.

You didn’t even think twice about your words. “He’s got limp dick syndrome.”

Hotch choked on his coffee and began to snicker. You could see how hard it was for him to hold in his laughter as he brought a fist to his mouth in an effort to cover his smile. It was nice to see his serious demeanor crack. Even after all these years, you were still Rossi’s daughter who got distracted from her homework while watching (and pestering) young Special Agent Hotchner as he tried to piece together a profile.

“You-” he cut himself off and pressed his lips together before taking a deep breath to compose himself. Still, he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. “Don’t say that in front of the local officers.”

“Okay, well then you can go tell Gideon.” You smirked as well. As he left the room to find the senior agent, Hotch still struggled to get his serious face back.

Hotch knowing he'd be tasked with waking up RR if he stayed on the jet:

“Someone get (Y/N) up,” Hotch said before exiting the jet. He knew full well that if he didn’t make a beeline down the stairs, he’d have to be the one to do it.

---

(Part 2)

[boldlyvoid]

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer���s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[nxrthmizu]

Crash and Burn

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | salt, lila salt

pairing | n/a

w.c | 3.2k

author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.

Enough was enough.

“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”

“Take the high road.”

“Be a good model student, Marinette.”

Enough. Was. Enough.

Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.

“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”

“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”

“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.

The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.

“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”

‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.

The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.

‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.

“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”

The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.

Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.

“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”

“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”

“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.

“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”

“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit!”

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”

“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.

“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.

Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.

‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.

What on Earth…

As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.

“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”

“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”

“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”

“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.

“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”

“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”

“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”

Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“

The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.

Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.

That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.

Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.

Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.

There must… There must’ve been a mistake.

A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.

[Lila]

Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?

[Alya]

Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.

[Lila]

She’s at home.

[Alya]

Okay, thanks.

Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…

… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.

“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”

Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend— But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.

“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”

The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.

“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.

“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.

“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”

“N— No, Mme.”

The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”

“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.

“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”

No one could breath.

“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”

“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.

“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”

Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”

Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”

Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.

“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.

The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.

“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”

this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.

also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Notice Me

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 3843

Summary: A killer leaves Reid’s girlfriend on the steps of the BAU with a message for Hotchner and the team. Spencer’s judgement is clouded and it seems that the killer isn’t finished with you. 

Notes: This is a dark one guys, so please be wary of that. I wanted to do an imagine that kinda felt like a case, but also had the reader involved and everything. This is another one that I needed to split into two parts because I got a little carried away (whoops). As always, please let me know what you think!

Warnings: Trauma, gore, assault, mentions of rape and sexual assault. 

Find Reid and more crime drama imagines: HERE

-

It was late. Later than anyone should have still been at the office and yet J.J. sat in front of a pile of files on her desk. Of course, Hotch was in his office too, both having already tried to convince the other to go home. Feeling like the piles would never end, J.J.’s attention shifted from a case to the flicker of movement just outside her door. At first, the figure standing by Spence’s desk startled her, but she quickly realized that it was you. 

“Y/N?” She smiled to greet you, though her confusion was clear. 

“Agent Jareau, I didn’t know you’d be here.” It was dark, so she couldn’t quite see how strained your smile really was. 

“Please, call me J.J.” She said lightly. Ever since you’d started seeing Dr. Reid, she liked to think the two of you had become friends. You liked to think that too, which was why you had hoped she wouldn’t be here. “Spence went home a couple of hours ago.”

“Is SSA Hotchner here?” You blurted. You didn’t have much longer. Her brows furrowed. 

“Um, yeah. He basically lives here, unfortunately.” She couldn’t get another word in before you rushed past her towards Hotch’s office. It wasn’t until then that she saw how pale you looked. 

It took every ounce of strength you had not to stumble as you walked. You kept your coat closed, partially out of embarrassment and partially because you were afraid that, even now, he was watching. Hotchner was working at his desk, just like he’d predicted. You had to knock to get him to look up. 

“Agent Hotchner?” 

“Dr. Y/L/N,” He set down the notes he was looking over and stared at you with surprise. “What can I help you with?” 

“I know it’s late, but he told me I had to find you.” You leaned against one of his chairs for support. 

“Reid sent you here?” 

“No. Spencer doesn’t know I’m here. He doesn’t know anything.” You winced at the thought. Spencer had no idea. He was probably worried out of his mind. You were supposed to be at his place watching a movie. Everything had changed in the span of one evening. 

You felt something drip off of the tip of your finger. Hotchner’s eyes followed the dark liquid until it splattered on his carpet. 

“Y/N are you okay?” Hotch stood up, noticing the way you seemed to sway slightly. 

“He said I had to come here. If I didn’t, he said that whatever he did next would be my fault. He said he has a message for you.”

“Y/N, who said this?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You undid the button keeping your coat closed. It was getting harder to speak. “He said that this is for you. For all of you.” 

You let your coat fall off of your shoulders, revealing your bloody chest and arms. Hotch lunged towards you as you collapsed, finally succumbing to your injuries. 

“J.J. get an ambulance here now!” He screamed, desperately trying to catch you before you hit the ground. The blonde appeared in the doorway to see what was going on. 

“Oh my god.” She gasped, rushing to the nearest phone. 

Hotch’s stomach dropped, taking a closer look at the bloody gashes on your chest. Each slash was deliberately carved into the flesh, forming two words; Notice Me. 

“J.J.!” He called out again. She rushed back into the room. 

“The paramedics are on their way.” 

Hotchner’s panicked face looked up at her. 

“Call the team.”

“Y-yes sir.” Her eyes widened, taking in the entirety of your wounds. Hotch’s jaw clenched. 

“And J.J.”

“Sir?”

“Let me call Reid.” 

-

He checked his watch for the hundredth time and blew out a long breath. On the table in front of him sat the box. The box. The box that had the potential to change absolutely everything. And you weren’t here to open it. He looked at his phone for missed messages, but the last text still read ‘On my way. See you soon.’ 

Spencer nearly jumped out of his chair when his phone suddenly started to ring. He felt his body tense when he saw the number. 

“Hotch?” He answered. Part of him already knew. 

“Reid…” Hotch sighed. “Spencer, you need to get down to the hospital.” Reid closed his eyes, hoping that he was wrong. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” 

“Something’s happened.”

“I should have known. I should have looked for her. She’s never late, Hotch. Ever. She’s actually early for pretty much everything. I should have had Garcia track her phone or have her-” In his ranting, he forgot to breathe. 

“Reid, I need you to calm down.” Hotchner instructed. He listened to Spencer take a few deep breaths. 

“Is she…”

“The doctor said that she’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s going to be okay.” He paused, making Spencer even more panicked. “Unfortunately, that’s not all we have to worry about. I’ll be able to explain more when you get here. The team is on their way.”

“Wait, the team is coming?” The turning in his stomach got worse. There’s only one reason Hotch would have called in the team. 

“Like I said, I’ll explain when you get here.” 

“Hotch-”

“I’ll see you soon.” Hotch wanted to be supportive, but they were on a time crunch now. This message meant there would be more bodies and soon. 

It took a moment for Spencer to make his feet move. Once he did, he was running. Before he knew it, he was already outside and what he saw made him stop in his tracks. Parked in front of him was your car. Five feet and you would have been inside. 

-

Morgan was the first to meet him. Normally, Spencer would have found his presence comforting, but he knew that he wasn’t just here for support. Hotchner called the team in for a reason. By the look on his face, Morgan already had an idea. 

“What happened?” Reid demanded, trying to look over his shoulder. He tried to push passed him, but Morgan held him in place. 

“We don’t know a lot. But Reid, you’re going to want to prepare yourself.”

“I don’t need a pep talk, I need to see Y/N.” His attempts to dodge around him were unsuccessful.

“He carved a message into her chest with a knife, Reid.” Morgan sighed. Spencer stopped. 

“What?” 

“Come on, Hotch can tell you more than I can.” He led Reid back to a waiting area where a few other members of the team had gathered. Rossi was still on his way, and so was Prentiss., but Garcia, J.J., and Hotch were grouped together in the far corner. Garcia and J.J. were looking at something on her computer while Hotch sat with his eyes closed. 

He was trying to remember every last detail from when you walked in to when you collapsed. He knew something was wrong and he should have acted sooner. He analyzed every single word that you said, trying to piece everything together. 

“He said that this is for you. For all of you.”

Notice me. 

“Hotch.” Morgan called to get his attention. Everybody looked up and saw that he was joined by Reid. 

“Oh my god.” Penelope immediately stood and rushed over to them. She had definitely been crying. Spencer had forgotten that the two of you were friends. You were friends with the whole team, really. She enveloped Spencer in a tight hug. “When J.J. called, I couldn’t believe it.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “We are going to figure this out and everything is going to be okay.” 

“Babygirl, let the kid breathe.” Morgan gently pulled her way from him. Spencer just stared off into nothing. 

“Her car is outside my apartment building.” He said blankly. “She was coming over to watch…” His gaze fell to the floor. “She was there. She was at my apartment and he took her.” 

“Spence, this isn’t your fault.” J.J. put a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known that he was out there.” 

Before he could respond, Garcia’s computer made a sound. She seemed almost afraid to look. When she did, her face dropped. 

“Is there a pattern?” Hotch sighed. She nodded, trying to keep calm. 

“Four bodies have been found in Maryland and Virginia. All of them were bound with duct tape, their necks were slashed and they were all raped.” She could barely say all of it without getting sick. She looked up at Spencer frantically. “But none of them had any messages or anything like that so maybe this isn’t the same guy. If it was the same guy, why would he…”

“Why would he leave her alive.” Spencer finished, closing his eyes. He couldn’t stop his brain from picturing every scenario, manifesting every scream. 

“I’m going to go see if the doctors can tell us anything.” J.J. said, giving Spencer a reassuring look. Reid finally looked at Hotch. He couldn’t help but stare at the blood that stained the front of his superior’s shirt. 

“What happened?” He didn’t think anything could be worse than what he already imagined. Hotch motioned for him to have a seat. 

“Whoever did this wanted to send us all a message. He told her that if she didn’t get to my office, that whatever he did afterwards would be her fault. He wanted to make sure I saw what he did.” 

“Morgan said that he-” Spencer took a sharp breath but was able to keep calm, distracting himself by picking at his nails. “He said that she had something carved into her chest?”

“Like I said, he wanted to make sure that I saw.” Hotch sighed. “He wrote ‘Notice Me’.” Everyone fell silent, each trying to wrap their heads around the situation. 

“Hotch,” J.J. returned, her expression betraying her concern, “She said she’s ready for questions.”

“Can you handle it?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should stay here and look over the cases Garcia found.” 

“Of course.” J.J. paused before looking at Spencer. “She said she would like you to be there, Spence.” 

“O-okay.” He rose slowly, his nerves barely allowing him to move. Morgan gave him a supportive pat on the back before Spencer followed J.J. to your room. Every step he took made his heart pound harder. He’d heard countless statements from victims, analyzed the most gruesome crime scenes imaginable, but he had never been this paralyzed before. 

The two agents opened the door to find you struggling out of the hospital bed while a nurse tried to get you to lay back down. 

“I appreciate everything, really, but I’m not going to sit here all night. I need to find-” Your argument with your nurse quickly came to a halt. “Spencer.” 

“The doctor said you were ready to answer a couple of questions.” J.J. gave you a small smile, pulling a chair up next to your bed. “He told me you wanted Spencer with you.” She looked back at Reid, who was still standing in the doorway. 

He just stood there and stared. Your face was bruised and a bandage covered an injury on your forehead- probably the blow that your attacker used to overtake you. Bandages covered your arms and he could see more under the collar of the hospital gown. You were shaking, the color from your skin faded and cold. Seeing him made your eyes water. 

“Spencer, I-”

“You were late.” He blurted. He started to fidget with his nails. “I mean, I thought you were late. Even though you are never late for anything. You didn’t call or text me or anything and I still didn’t look for you. I should have looked for you. I-” His words caught in his throat. 

You shrugged off the nurses hands and walked towards him, trying not to wince as you raised a hand to rest on his cheek. He had tears in his eyes and you could tell he was desperately trying to keep them back. 

“Spencer, this isn’t your fault.” You said softly. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, trying to stop imagining what happened in that goddamn hour that that man would have had you. 

“Dr. Y/L/N, you really need to be laying down.” The nurse insisted. Spencer opened his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“She’s right. Come on.” He took your hand and led you back to the bed, helping to tuck you in under the blanket. He sat in a chair across from J.J. and kept your hand in his. 

“Are you ready?” J.J. asked patiently. You nodded nervously. J.J. smiled reassuringly. “If you want to stop at any point, just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“What were you doing before you were attacked?” 

“I was driving to Spencer’s apartment.to watch a movie and have dinner.” You glanced over at your boyfriend. “I parked in front and walked towards the door, but I didn’t get there.” 

“Were there cars already parked when you got there?” 

“I-I think so.” You closed your eyes, trying to envision the scene, but all you could see was his face and with his face came the pain and the terror. “Oh god, I see him.”

“Stay with me, Y/N.” J.J. kept her voice as calm as possible when inside her heart was breaking for you and for the anguished Reid across from her. “Do you remember the cars?” 

“Breathe with me, Y/N.” Spence instructed, kissing the palm of your hand. You calmed down enough and focused on the sound of his voice. “Breathe in. Breathe out.” You exhaled slowly and nodded. 

“There was a van.” 

“What color was it?”

“It was dark, but not black. Blue maybe? I don’t know, I only saw it for a second.” 

“That’s okay.” J.J. said. She exchanged a look with Spencer. Now came the hard part. “What did you do when you got out of your car? Did you see anyone?”

“No, it was just me. I walked towards the door, but something hit me. Someone was dragging me away from the door. The next thing I knew, I was in a van.” 

“Do you see anything?”

“There’s something on the walls. Some kind of padding. A-and on the back of the seat, there’s this jacket. A  women’s jacket. It was red.”

“What else can you see?”

“I see him.” A tear escaped your eye and fell silently down your cheek. “He-he’s leaning over me and he’s-” You paused and listened to the sound of Spencer’s breathing. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him. You wanted to see his face instead of the creature that did this to you. But you needed to do this. “He’s unbuttoning my shirt.” 

“Do you remember feeling the van move at all before he did this?” 

“No. No, he didn’t drive until after.” You felt Spence’s grip on your hand tighten. J.J. watched him carefully, reading the pain on his face. “He said something while he was taking it off. He said he ‘didn’t have enough time’ and he ‘couldn’t do it now.’ He said he wanted it to be special. That I was special.” 

“Was he wearing a mask or a hood?”

“No, I could see his face. That face…” You held back a cry. Spencer held back the urge to wrap his arms around you. “That’s when he took out the knife and started carving this.” You put a hand on your chest. “He said I was his messenger.” Your heart was starting to race and you started to hyperventilate. “He… he kissed each cut as he made them and then he would kiss me.” 

You finally opened your eyes and almost wished that you hadn’t. Spencer was crushed. There were tears on his face and utter horror in his eyes. You had to look away. 

“Well… you know the rest.” 

“You did great, Y/N.” J.J. reassured you. “Do you think you’d be able to give a description to a sketch artist?” Despite your efforts to keep it still, your lip started to tremble. 

“D-do you think I can sleep first? I’m so tired.” You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until now.  

“Of course. Just let me know whenever you’re ready, okay?” She glanced over at Spencer with a supportive smile before she left to join the others in the waiting room. You couldn’t bear to look at the pain you had caused him. 

“Maybe you should go with her.” You muttered, staring blankly at your lap, more tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You had brought him in here because you knew you needed him to get through this, but you hadn’t thought about what it would do to him. 

Spencer tried not to show the hurt on his face, but he wasn’t successful. He let go of your hand and stood up. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” His voice barely came out above a whisper. Any louder and he was sure it would have cracked. You watched the way his shoulders sagged as he walked, like he was carrying the weight of what had happened over his shoulder. You grabbed his hand before he got far. 

“Spence, wait.” You motioned for him to come closer and held his hand against your heart. When his skin grazed against the cuts in your chest, it didn’t hurt. If anything, it eased the sting. “I love you.” 

A small, lopsided smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly the box in his jacket pocket weighed more. 

“I love you too.” 

-

Once Rossi and Prentiss arrived, Hotchner briefed the team on what their next step should be. Reid, however, was nowhere to be found, which had made everybody worry. He sent Morgan and Prentiss to the latest murder crime scene to see if this really was the same unsub. Garcia went back to the BAU, but Rossi and J.J. stayed 

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Rossi asked, setting down a cup of terrible hospital coffee. It was almost morning now and no one had gotten any sleep. 

“From what she told us, it isn’t over yet.” J.J. sighed. “He told her that she’s special. He’s going to come back for her.” 

“And we will be here when he does.” Hotch stared down at the array of photos from the previous crime scenes. He was usually good about separating his emotions from a case, but this was an attack against his team. This was made to be personal. 

Hotch started down the hall, turning the corner and stopping. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye and turned around. Reid sat on the floor with his back pressed against the side of a vending machine and legs crossed in front of him. His face was sullen and tear stained.

“Hey,” He greeted, immediately stiffening and whipping his face with his sleeve. He stood and brushed off. Hotch noticed the way his hands shook. “Have you guys found anything yet?” 

“Morgan and Prentiss are heading to the latest crime scene. Based on what Y/N told you and J.J. about the attack, it could be the same unsub, but we don’t want to make any conclusions yet.” 

Reid nodded quickly, keeping his gaze trained on the floor. 

“Maybe I should go with them. I might get a better-”

“This isn’t your fault, Reid.” Hotch interrupted. He knew exactly where the younger agent’s mind was. “That is what he wants you to believe, but it isn’t your fault.” 

“I…” Spencer knew that arguing with him was pointless. He just looked defeated. “I have to do something, Hotch.” 

“The doctors will likely release Y/N in a couple of hours. We’ll need to get her somewhere safe. You should stay with her.” Hotch knew how the guilt was weighing down on him. He put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all here for you, Reid. You and Y/N. We aren’t going to stop until we catch this man.” 

“Thanks, Hotch.” Spencer sniffed. More than anything, he wanted to take you home and never let you leave his embrace. Reid leaned down to pick up his jacket from the floor, wincing when a small velvet box clattered to the tile. Hotch picked it up for him. 

“Reid…” He proceeded with caution, but there was a warmhearted tone in his voice. “Is what I think it is?” He handed it to Spencer who hurriedly stuffed it back into his pocket. 

“Actually it’s a-” He stopped and gave him his awkward lop-sided smile. “I was going to ask her tonight.”

“I didn’t know you were ready to take that step.” 

“Neither did I.” Spencer laughed nervously. “But ever since I met her, I just knew. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” He put his hand in his pocket, feeling the box in his fingers. Tonight was supposed to be so different. Hotch’s usually serious expression broke into a small, proud smile. 

Hotch’s mind returned to the case and he started back down the hallway. Spencer walked towards your room, pausing when his phone rang. 

“Dr. Reid.” He answered. For a moment, there was just breathing on the other end. Before he hung up, a low, raspy voice spoke. 

“I won’t be ignored anymore, Dr. Reid. You all notice me now.” 

Reid took off running. He found Garcia in the waiting area and pointed urgently at his cell phone before continuing the call. 

“You’re right. You have our full attention.”

“I know that little trick. Make me think I’m in control so your pretty little tech can trace this call. I learned from the best.” He chuckled deeply. “You won’t find me until I want you to.” There was a brief pause, like he was stopping for effect. “I was just calling to ask you some questions, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not nearly as interesting as you are.” Reid tried to keep his tone even as he watched Garcia scramble to trace the call. 

“Could you hear her screaming?” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “I want to make sure that those soundproofing panels worked. She kept calling out for you over and over and over…” 

“You want us to know who you are, why don’t you tell me your name?” 

“Tell me, have you had her yet, Dr. Reid?” His suggestive voice made Spencer’s blood boil. “I’m dying to know what it’s going to be like when I have enough time with Y/N.” 

“You won’t get that chance.” He finally spat, losing control. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll take better care of her than I did those other girls. I look forward to meeting you, Spencer.” Just like that, the line went dead.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[storygirl000]

ML Fic: kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress

Summary: In which Lila's lies are unintentionally undone because Ms. Bustier's class actually talks about it.

Ao3 link here

Author’s note: This was mostly inspired by a trend I found in salt fics: namely, the people that know Marinette the best in the show are always the ones who turn on her in favor of Lila, while outsiders who barely know her immediately trust Marinette. So I thought, "What if I flipped the script around?"

Also, this might get a sequel. Who knows.

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

The students of Ms. Bustier’s homeroom class were generally a tight-knit group.

Sure, a few of them had clashing interests. Sure, they fought on occasion. And sure, they were the homeroom class that was unlucky enough to have Chloé “My Daddy will hear about this!” Bourgeois among their numbers. But overall, they knew each other well and looked out for each other.

They were also fairly accommodating towards new students, as long as they were willing to get along with the rest of the class. So when a new transfer came in, calling herself Lila Rossi and talking about all the wonderful adventures she’d been on, they welcomed her with open arms.

Sure, she had a bit of a rough first day – she got akumatized, and she managed to earn the ire of Chloé (unsurprising) and Marinette (more surprising – though everyone, even the girl herself, eventually chalked this up to her being jealous of Lila’s newfound closeness to her crush Adrien). She was still friendly with the class, though, so everyone figured things were fine.

But then certain things stopped adding up.

It started with a sleepover at Juleka’s house. Her brother had gotten into a discussion about Jagged Stone with Marinette, and from there he revealed that Jagged was allergic to most animal fur; that’s partly why he had Fang as a pet.

But wait. Hadn’t Lila said at some point that she’d rescued Jagged Stone’s cat? How could he have a cat if he’d known he was allergic to animal fur? The class debated this for a while before coming to the conclusion that Lila had rescued someone else’s cat that day and simply mistaken it for Jagged’s. But then what about that song he allegedly wrote for her?

As the debate continued, another one of Lila’s stories was brought up – her friendship with Prince Ali. Rose, realizing it was probably daytime back in his home country, called the man himself and asked if he knew Lila.

“Lila Rossi?” he asked, frowning. “I do remember a Ms. Cecilia Rossi who worked at the embassy at one point, and she mentioned having a daughter named Lila back home in Italy, but she never brought her to Kowar.”

“So she was lying about knowing you, then?” Rose asked.

Ali laughed. “Don’t worry, Rose, I’m sure people lie about knowing me all the time. Thanks for asking me before jumping to conclusions, though. It was nice talking to you again!”

With that, he hung up.

The class looked at each other, the realization sinking in. How many other things had Lila lied about?

“So...I guess we owe Marinette an apology then,” Nino said, rubbing the back of his head. “She didn’t trust Lila, and we ignored her.”

Marinette laughed nervously. “No, it’s alright. I’m willing to admit that I was blinded by jealousy a bit on that one.”

“What should we do, then?” Max asked. “We still don’t know her motivations for telling us tall tales like that.”

“Maybe she just wanted to fit in?” Mylène suggested. “Our class does have a famous model and the mayor’s daughter in it, and several of us actually know some of the people she was lying about.”

“Then we should let her know that she doesn’t have to lie to hang out with us,” Adrien said. “That should hopefully clear things up.”

“That sounds good!” Marinette agreed.

Alya smirked. “Then it’s settled: the next time we see Lila, we reassure her that we’ll like her just the way she is!”

The rest of the class chorused in agreement.

00000

It didn’t turn out to be that simple.

First, Lila had left Paris for a while for unknown reasons; apparently, her mom was needed elsewhere at the moment and had brought Lila with her.

Second...well, she did eventually return. And that return threw a wrench in their initial assumptions of her.

No one had even known she’d returned until they got to class one day and saw her. Or rather, heard her – she was having a pretty big argument with Ms. Bustier.

“But I need to sit in the front!” she said, looking close to tears. “Otherwise I won’t be able to do well in class!”

Ms. Bustier clearly looked uncomfortable having to turn her down, but gently shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lila, but unless I have the proper paperwork, I won’t be able to make accommodations for you.”

“What’s going on?” Alya asked, walking into class with Marinette, Adrien, and Nino.

Lila turned to them. “Oh, it’s horrible! I have tinnitus, so I won’t be able to listen well in class unless I sit up front, but Ms. Bustier doesn’t trust me!”

“I do trust you!” Ms. Bustier protested. “But school protocol requires that I ask for paperwork signed by a doctor to confirm your story!”

“How did you get tinnitus?” Adrien asked.

“Oh, I blew out an eardrum rescuing Jagged Stone’s cat! I told you that story, remember?”

The four gave each other an uncomfortable look before Alya stepped forward. “We...actually wanted to talk to you about that. And a bunch of the other stories you’ve been telling us.”

“What?” Lila asked, face going from tearful to suspicious.

“We did the research, and there’s no way any of them are true,” Nino admitted.

Lila glared at him. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Sort of?” Marinette replied. “We’re not trying to accuse you of anything, but-”

“You hate me, don’t you?” Lila accused them. “That’s why you’re being so mean to me right now!”

“We’re not!” Adrien protested. “It’s just...you don’t have to lie to get us to like you, alright? We’re perfectly happy with you the way you are.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, smiling. “And we’d really love to get to know you. The real you.”

Lila looked between them and Ms. Bustier, seemingly thinking something over.

Finally, she snarled. “You’re worthless. All of you.” Before anyone could stop her, she pushed past the kids and ran out into the halls.

Ms. Bustier sighed. “Thank you. I didn’t want to turn her down, but...”

“It’s fine, Ms. Bustier,” Marinette replied.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” Adrien asked.

Alya shrugged. “Who knows?”

00000

She did not, in fact, come back.

The next day, Ms. Bustier informed her homeroom class that Lila had chosen to transfer to Mrs. Bonaparte’s homeroom class. She hadn’t cited any reasons, though everyone figured yesterday’s confrontation had something to do with it.

“I wonder how she’s doing in her new class?” Rose asked.

Meanwhile...

“Class, I’d like to introduce you to our new student, Lila Rossi!”

Lila flashed a smile to Mrs. Bonaparte’s students. “Hello, everyone! It’s so nice to meet you! If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask!”

One student raised his hand. “Why’d you leave your old homeroom class?”

“Well...that’s actually a pretty heavy question,” Lila replied, frowning. “The truth is, they bullied me out because they were jealous of me!”

A series of concerned murmurs rippled through the class. The boy who’d asked the question was whacked on the shoulder by his friend. “Vin! How could you ask something insensitive like that?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Lila reassured them. “He didn’t know.”

“What were they jealous about, exactly?” another girl asked.

None of them noticed Lila give a small smirk.

[imagineaworlds]

Bunny and Baby -- Poly!BAU Team

(Edited version for a broader audience. You can check out the full version on @hotch-and-bunny)

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Dom/sub relationships, Sir kink, Mistress kink, Ma’am kink, Daddy kink, dirty talk, restraints (handcuffs), collaring, leashes, edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, degradation, mild choking, pegging, impregnation/breeding kink, minimal in-chapter aftercare, though it is alluded to happening afterwards. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, the team refers to them as female when saying “good girl”, “princess”, etc.

Pairing: Nonbinary!Reader (fem anatomy) x BAU Team.

Dynamic (in order of superiority): Sir!Dom!Aaron Hotchner, Ma’am!Dom!Elle Greenaway, Mistress!Dom!Emily Prentiss, Daddy!Dom!Derek Morgan,    switch!Reader (sub in this plot), bunny!sub!Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 7645

Criminal Minds Discord Server

We had been returning from a case in Louisiana, everyone sitting comfortably in their own seats on the jet. Hotch and I were beside each other— I was pressed between him and the window— Morgan was across from us, Emily and Elle were across the aisle and a row back, and Spencer was laying on the couch. Rossi hadn’t come with us because he had a family emergency. Emily and Elle were the only ones talking while the rest of us were quietly working on our own things; but Spencer was just half asleep on the couch, trying to catch up on some rest. He told us before we boarded that he had another headache that kept him up all night, and we all scolded him for not coming to one of us and seeking help because we always knew what to do to help him. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, though. While I didn’t entirely believe him, we all decided to let him rest during the flight.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of turbulence that made me grab onto Hotch’s arm that things got… interesting. The thing was, when it came to Aaron Hotchner, the slightest touch could set him off, and he would get mean because he saw even the simplest of shoulder bumps as a bratty act that needed to be punished. I always had to be careful around him because of that. But I forgot. The plane jumped in the air, my stomach dropped, and before I knew it, I was squeezing his bicep to ground myself as some kind of reminder that I wasn’t going to die or something.

When the turbulence passed, I tore my hand away from Hotch, keeping in mind that I had to keep my hands to myself, but it was too late. He was staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to go back to my book that Spencer had recommended, which was his attempt to win his favor with me after he pissed me off one day and I wanted to punish him. He was lucky that I wasn’t as mean as Hotch and Emily. Unfortunately for me, however, that meant I was completely fucked because Hotch was still sitting there, staring at me, likely asking himself how I could dare to touch him without permission, even when it was for something as innocent as it had been. I finally dared to look up at him. He was frowning.

“Sir—” I tried to explain myself quietly so that the others couldn’t hear, but he shook his head, silently telling me to stop. I fell silent and gulped.

Hotch, without saying anything, looked back down at the iPad that was sitting on the table in front of him as he was going through emails, scoping out new cases to take on; but what he did after that was somewhat unexpected. His hand closest to me drifted between my thighs. I adjusted in my seat, trying to fix my posture to be “smooth” so that no one else would notice. No one looked up. Hotch continued with his plan, forcing his hand between my thighs, spreading my legs open to give him access to what was beneath my skirt. I should have known that wearing a skirt on the jet was only going to get me in trouble, but with the case having just ended, and with Spencer’s headaches, my attire had been the last thing on my mind. To Hotch, however, it seemed to be the only thing on his mind.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered to me. I was surprised Morgan didn’t hear him.

When I nodded, Hotch pressed his index and middle fingers against my panties, finding the sensitive nub that was my clit, hiding behind my labia and the clitoral hood. He was too far. I needed him to press harder to actually feel his fingers, to actually get me to the edge rather than just get needy for him— but my desperation for him and what was about to come was undeniable when he slid his fingers down to hover over my core, discovering a wet spot that was slowly forming. Hotch snickered to himself. I knew that he was probably thinking to himself something along the lines of how he had only just touched me and I was already wet, proving to him that I was always thinking about having one of them— if not all of them— fuck me.

Hotch moved back up to my clit, and he pressed hard enough that I could feel him, but not enough to actually give me everything I wanted. Slowly, he started rubbing circles over my panties. A quiet sigh left my lips as I leaned back in my seat, moved my hips forward to give him better access, and I screwed my eyes shut. There was no doubt that if Morgan happened to look up, he would know exactly what was happening.

As Hotch’s fingers started moving faster, I rolled my hips eagerly to make his pace in an attempt to speed up my orgasm, but he pulled away somewhat and slowed down until I stopped moving and waited politely for him to make another move. He went back to what he was doing suddenly. I tensed and tried my very best to hold still this time while also biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. But I was so close again. So, so close. I just wanted to cum for him.

“Sir, please,” I whispered. “Please.”

“Please, may I cum?”

“Ask Mistress first.”

My eyes widened and I looked at him, but he was still reading his emails, so I looked over at Emily. She was still casually talking to Elle without a single clue as to what a mess I was while sitting next to Hotch. I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t beg like that randomly when they were all doing their own things. So, Hotch shrugged because he didn’t care one way or the other. If I wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to let me cum, and for him, that was fun and it didn’t matter. But to me, it mattered. His fingers kept rolling over my clit again and again, and it was getting unbearable, it was getting torturous. So, I dared to give in.

I let out an audible moan while leaning forward to grab onto the table to hold my orgasm back, and I croaked, “Mistress—” Everyone stopped what they were doing to look over at me. There I was, clearly falling apart as Hotch’s arm was suspiciously moving in the direction that led just between my thighs. Emily was staring at me. “Mistress, please, may I cum?”

Her mouth fell agape in shock when she realized what it was that Hotch was doing and why I was asking. She looked between me and Hotch. “Have they been good?” she asked him.

“No,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then, no, you may not cum, slut,” she said to me.

I whimpered and increased my grip on the table until my knuckles were turning white. “Please! I’m not going to last!”

“You cum, you get punished,” Morgan said.

“Fuck…” I tried wiggling away from Hotch, but it was useless since I was trapped in the seat next to the window. “Please…” I was breathless now. “Please… I can’t…”

“And what are you doing?” Elle questioned roughly, squinting at Spencer, scolding him for something I couldn’t see.

Spencer floundered and stuttered from the couch. “I— Um. Nothing, Ma’am. I’m sorry. It was nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Fuck—” I moved my hips around again with Hotch’s fingers as my orgasm suddenly washed through me, a shiver running down my spine as my toes curled in my shoes, my thighs shook against the leather seat, and my walls clenched around nothing. “Shit.” Hotch slowed his movements as I came down from my high. My eyes quickly scanned the interior of the jet, catching how they were all scowling at me, unpleased with how I had cum without any of their permission. My heart sank in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“First, Spence starts touching himself without permission,” Elle began as she stood from her seat and started approaching the couch. I sat up a bit in my seat so that I could look over my shoulder to see Spencer sitting up somewhat now, an erection straining his pants, a small wet spot on the front from his pre-cum. “Then, you cum without our permission.” She ran her fingers through Spencer’s hair, then once she was far enough in, she curled her grip, roughly pulling at his curls to make him sit up all the way. “And the two of you still had the audacity to say that you’re sorry. I don’t think they’re actually sorry; do you, Morgan?”

“No,” he answered, also disappointed in us.

“We didn’t train brats,” she hissed, pulling at Spencer’s hair again, making him whimper.

“His headache, Elle—” Emily warned quickly.

Elle froze when she remembered, and she tried removing her grip from Spencer, suddenly aware of how she might have hurt him in her fit of anger. “I’m sorry, Spence—”

But he cut her off by gently taking her wrist and leading her touch back to his hair, encouraging to pull again. “It’s gone.”

“Don’t lie, bunny.”

“I’m not, Ma’am.”

She smirked and tugged again, bringing him to his knees. “Then the two of you have no excuse for misbehaving. Their punishment, Morgan.”

Hotch slid out of his seat and moved to the back of the jet where Emily was still sitting so that there was enough room for Morgan to stand at the same time as I did, knowing that it was better than him grabbing onto my hair, too. When we were both in the aisle, my back close to Elle’s, Morgan caught me off guard by pinching my chin roughly in between his thumb and his other four fingers. I pouted my eyes at him. I was trying to silently beg for mercy, but, of course, it didn’t work.

In fact, it made him chuckle. “Princess, you did this to yourself.”

“Daddy, I’m sorry… Please… I didn’t mean to cum.”

“Then, you should have held it like good girls do.”

“Their punishment, Derek,” Hotch reminded.

Morgan rolled his eyes because he already knew what he was doing and he hated that Hotch thought he needed to be babysat while Domming me, even though he didn’t. Morgan and I had done plenty of scenes together. As the only switch in our relationship, it was easy for me to go visit one of them when I needed to be Dommed, whereas I would go to Spencer if I needed to Dom. Each of them were unique Doms, though, and I would seek them out separately, depending on what I needed. I mean, I lived with Hotch, but he could be cruel, and sometimes, I didn’t need that. Out of all of us, Morgan was the kindest. His punishments were never harsh, and playing with him was always easy, compared to with Emily or Elle, who were on the same wavelength, both masters at torturing me with edges, ruins, forced orgasms. When I needed something light, I went to Morgan. When I needed to be completely out of control, not a single thought in my head, I went to Emily or Elle— usually both at the same time. With Hotch, he was everything that Morgan, Emily, and Elle were, but he was also the one who gave me the harshest punishments. Nipple clamps that he tugged on, floggers, plugs, being tied up and left there for an hour while he was gone, cockwarming me until he came and I didn’t. But Morgan was the one that had dictated my punishment. For cumming, he got to decide what they were going to do with me, which gave me a little bit of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

I did so without hesitation, and he spun me around so that he could cuff my hands together. I had a good view of Spencer and Elle now. He was on his knees in front of her, the two of them watching each other carefully— probably because she was trying to decide if he was lying about his headaches or not, and he was trying to gauge how bad his punishment would be. But she was just playing with his hair. We all loved to do that. I mean, Spencer loved it, too, which was why he did it, and it was the easiest way to ease him in and out of sub space. When I would Dom him, our sessions were usually the same. I’d go to his house to find him kneeling by the door, waiting patiently for me while wearing his cute little collar that we all picked out for him, and then he’d cook dinner for me. Sometimes, if he had been bratty, I’d sit in the living room, using him to balance platters in his hands that held my wine glass, any snacks I had, and sometimes even a book or two. If he ever dropped them, I’d punish him. If not, I’d reward him. For rewards, we’d go to his bedroom where I’d worship his cock, but never getting him close enough to the edge to actually make it 100% pleasant. I liked watching him squirm. Even when he had his best days, he knew that I wasn’t going to immediately let him cum because my favorite part about being his Dom was controlling his orgasms. As for punishments, that usually came with tying him up, flogging him sometimes, ruining his poor, little orgasms to make him whimper pathetically, and overstimulating him. I fucking loved the sounds he made during sex. Usually, I could pry them out of him with just a simple praise, but they were always so sweet when I had him tied to his bed, a plug in his ass, and I was riding every single drop out of him, never stopping even after he came inside of me.

His hair, though… One rough tug at his hair and he was immediately our bunny. For aftercare, his favorite thing was cuddling while we played with his curls. Brushing his hair, curling his strands around our fingers, gently massaging his scalp, all of those things prevented him from sub dropping, and it reassured him that he was safe with us, that we loved him, that he was going to be okay. I loved his hair. In fact, I was obsessed with it. Watching as Elle played with it and he nuzzled against her with a hypnotized, submissive smile on his face, I felt myself lighten up, too.

“Come here, bunny,” Morgan beckoned Spencer over to us. After Elle released him, he crawled around her and stopped just in front of me. “Take their skirt off.” Spencer did as he was told, reaching up for my waistband, quickly pulling my skirt down to my ankles. I helped him by stepping out of them. “Not their panties,” he warned when Spencer moved for those, too. Spencer dropped his hands to his lap. “Can you see how wet Sir made them? The mess they made from breaking the rules?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t be like them.”

“Spence, where’s your collar?” Elle asked, already digging through his bag that she retrieved from one of the overhead bins. I heard another one open behind me and Morgan, probably something that Hotch or Emily were looking for. “Nevermind.” She found Spencer’s collar and leash in his go-bag and brought it over to us. “Presentation.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Spencer looked up somewhat so that Elle could see where she was positioning the collar over his Adam’s apple, and then he looked down and moved his long hair out of the way so that she could clasp it together.

“Presentation,” Morgan whispered in my ear. So, that was what the other overhead bin had been. Hotch had probably gone digging for my collar, too.

The rule with me and Spencer was that we weren’t allowed to wear our collars in public because the whole point of kink was that all parties were consenting adults at all times. If someone wasn’t consenting to the scene, it had to stop immediately. The thing with wearing an obvious O-collar out and about was that the general public couldn’t consent to viewing it. Yes, it looked like a choker if you were oblivious, but it still wasn’t fair. And we didn’t like to draw attention to ourselves, anyhow. So, Spencer and I could never wear our collars in public, but we always had to bring them in our go-bags in case a situation like this arose where we were at the hotel and needed to submit, or, yes, even on the jet. This had only happened once before, though, to be fair.

When Morgan finished clasping my collar around my neck, he pushed me to my knees, my face even with Spencer’s. His breath was hot on my nose, our lips so close I could nearly taste him, but Elle tugged on his leash, pulling him back, and Morgan tugged on mine, pulling me back. We both whimpered at the feeling. “You don’t get to touch each other,” Morgan hissed. “In fact, Y/N, you don’t get to touch anyone at all.” My eyes widened and I looked up at Elle, almost as if I could read the look on her face to see how the rest of them were feeling behind me. 

She was smirking. “Bunny’s so hard…” Elle teased, pulling on Spencer’s leash to have him lean back against her thighs. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he admitted.

“You’re lucky that you only palmed yourself without permission. If you would have done anything worse, we’d be making your punishment no-touch, like Y/N. What do you say to us for sparing you that torture?”

“Thank you.”

“Good boy.”

“Let’s move them to the front,” Morgan told Elle so that she could pull Spencer onto the couch to give him room to make me crawl towards the front of the jet where no one would bother me. “Go on,” he encouraged. I started crawling, and when I made it where he wanted me, he had me turn around so that I was facing the entirety of the team. “Now, you get to sit here and watch.”

“Daddy?” I questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“And not talk.” He crouched and kissed me gently. “This is what you get for breaking the rules.”

“It’s useless to keep apologizing; isn’t it?” Around Morgan, I could talk to him like that, which was a little more casual than most scenes called for, but with the others, I could never say anything like that. Morgan understood, though. He nodded and kissed me again. “Give me a toy, at least. Edge me, ruin me— Anything.”

“No.” He stood back up.

Elle had Spencer’s pants on the ground now, and Emily had moved to the couch to peel his shirt off. As Morgan approached them, Hotch moved closer, too. I watched as the four of them dedicated their entire attention to Spencer, kissing his jawline, nibbling on his earlobe, running their thumbs over his sensitive nipples, and Elle worked her hand down under his briefs. I rolled my hips around for friction against my soaked panties when I heard Spencer let out a breathless moan just before Hotch kissed him to shut him up.

“Don’t let him edge,” Emily warned as Elle continued to play with Spencer inside of his underwear.

“Aw,” Elle cooed with false sympathy against his cheekbone, “is bunny already close?”

He nodded eagerly while pulling away from his kiss with Hotch. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, I think it’s only fair to make you ask Mistress for permission the same way Y/N had to.”

He turned his head to look up at Emily. “Please, Mistress?” He sounded just as desperate and pathetic as I had. “May I cum?”

“You touched without permission, though, bunny,” she said to him. He shook his head, knowing that was her answer without saying what she actually meant. “I know that listening to Y/N beg was overwhelming for you…”

She dragged her nails down his chest, making his chest tense up. I saw the way his little stomach sucked in, and I whimpered again. I wanted that to be me touching him. I loved the little tummy he had now since we had helped him get over his addiction since Mexico. He was so healthy now, which meant eating well, something we regulated, and it gave him a cute, healthy, tummy that showed when he was wearing his belts with a button down shirt. I loved praising that part of him. Sometimes, it was obvious how self-conscious it could make him, but when we let him know how much we loved it and how proud we were of his progress since Mexico, he would love it, too.

Spencer bucked up when Elle pulled her hand out of his underwear, leaving him hanging on the edge. Hotch grabbed Spencer’s hips and pushed him back down onto the couch with a huff, probably still angry about me, but now it was worse since Spencer was acting up. I saw Spencer’s cock twitch helplessly behind the constraints of his clothes. He was trying to reach for someone’s hand again, but Morgan collected his wrists together and took Elle’s handcuffs, using them to restrain Spencer the same way I was restrained.

“Please,” he pleaded. “Something. Anything. Please.”

“My bag, Hotch,” Emily muttered, focusing on getting Spencer out of his underwear now. He let out a sigh of relief when his cock bounced freely against his stomach. Hotch scrambled to Emily’s go-bag at the back of the plane and started digging in it for something. “The red one—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I know.”

He pulled out three things, holding them up long enough for me to inspect from where I was kneeling on the opposite side of the jet. The red strap on that Emily loved to fuck Spence with, a bottle of lube to help him take her easier, and the worst part… Honestly, I didn’t know what was worse, what I was enduring or what torture was awaiting Spencer with the last toy Hotch retrieved. I didn’t even realize Emily carried it around with her. How did she even think to bring such a thing? I mean, I understood the red strap and the lube, but… that? I almost felt bad for Spencer. At least I got to cum earlier, even though I wasn’t supposed to, but it seemed like they didn’t want Spencer to cum at all. I felt sorry for him. If I wasn’t so far into sub space, I probably would’ve snickered with the rest of them, thinking about all of the wicked ways I could have tortured him with it, but… No, I couldn’t while we were both being punished.

“If you want to touch so bad,” Hotch said while returning to the couch, “then we’ll touch.” Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the last toy. “But we won’t let you cum.”

He struggled against his Doms’ holds as Hotch knelt down to begin the tedious process of sliding the tight metal cock ring over Spencer’s length. Spencer cursed at the feelings. I had no doubts that the ring was cold to the touch— which was an unbearable feeling for him— and it was probably so tight on him… When it reached his base, it kept all of the blood right where it needed to be to ensure he stayed hard. And then Hotch grabbed the string version of the cock ring, which was entirely adjustable, so he slid it over Spencer’s balls and tightened it. Spencer cried out.

“Sir—” Spencer moaned pleasantly as Hotch suddenly dipped down and wrapped his lips around Spencer’s cock. “Thank you, Sir.”

Emily came over to torture me. She pulled at my leash, choking me, tugging my head back somewhat. “Keep your eyes on Spence.”

My gaze was narrowed down my cheeks and my nose so that I could watch as Hotch slowly licked his tongue around Spencer’s sensitive tip that was still leaking pre-cum. I knew he tasted good. I knew that he was probably a leaking, pathetic mess, and Hotch was enjoying every second of torturing him; and I wished that it were me instead of Hotch.

Without warning, Emily pressed her index finger against my clit, making me jolt.

“Fuck!”

Emily snickered and started rubbing my clit faster.

“Mistress, I’m close. Please.”

“No.” She kissed the tip of my nose before pulling her touch away. I leaned forward to regain her touch, but she was already walking away. “Lemme fuck him,” she told Hotch, wiping some of the sweat off of Spencer’s forehead.

“I want to warm him up first,” Elle said eagerly. Hotch released Spencer from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. “Turn him over.”

Morgan and Emily worked together to get Spencer on his knees on the floor, and they pressed his chest against the couch. Emily tugged at his leash to keep him distracted when he looked over at me with a painful, silent plea for help— help which I couldn’t give. He accepted his fate, closing his eyes as he waited for the next step.

“Let me hold him,” I begged. “Please. I’ll serve you all while I do it!”

Elle squirted some of the lube onto her index and middle fingers before rubbing them up and down Spencer’s slit. He tensed up. “Fine,” she said, still concentrating on him. “Come here.”

Morgan sat on the couch, his thigh just beside Spencer’s head so that we couldn’t make eye contact from where I was anymore. I started crawling towards all of them, letting Morgan pick up my leash when I was close enough so that he could tug me forward. He spread his legs so that I was sitting between his knees. “Suck,” he commanded, beginning to take his pants off.

I took the moment with nothing to do as an opportunity to finally turn my head to look at Spencer who still had his cheek pressed against the couch. I leaned down and kissed him. He perked up and started kissing me back. Just as it got more intense, the two of us fighting for dominance in our kiss, I felt him suddenly back down when Elle slid her fingers into his tight hole, causing him to moan against my lips. Our hands were still trapped behind our backs, so I couldn’t hold him steady to encourage him to keep kissing me, I couldn’t tangle my hands in his hair, and I couldn’t even reach to hold his hands as they struggled in his cuffs.

“Baby girl,” Morgan called, waiting for me.

“Stop ignoring him,” Hotch hissed, pushing my panties to the side and sliding his thumb into me. “Shit.” He sounded so turned on. “Fuck, baby.”

“You and bunny,” Elle chuckled. “The two of you can never hold it together. Pathetic.”

Spencer and I moaned happily in response to the degradation.

Morgan, now completely impatient, held my head between his palms, tore me away from Spencer, then turned my gaze before pushing my mouth onto his cock. He kept moving me until I gagged. I felt Spencer rut against the couch when Elle must have curled her fingers against his prostate or something, and I followed suit when I felt Hotch replace his short thumb with his long cock. I thought I was supposed to be facing punishment— Not that I was arguing. Even if I could talk, I wouldn’t have brought it up, because at least I finally got him. He always felt so good. He was so long, but not as thick as Morgan, not that it mattered. Both of them knew how to please me, and that was what mattered more than anything.

“Jesus, baby girl,” Morgan moaned, throwing his head back.

“He’s ready,” Elle said. Spencer whimpered when there was a loss of contact between them after she pulled out of him and stepped away, giving Emily room to kneel behind him and line up her cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for us, bunny? No cumming?”

Spencer whined. “I don’t know, Ma’am.”

“Promise or we won’t fuck you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he insisted quickly, realizing his mistake. “I won’t cum. I promise.”

“Good boy.”

Suddenly, he was pushed forward when Emily roughly thrust into him. I pulled my mouth off Morgan long enough for me to catch my breath and moan as Hotch continued fucking me softly to torture me, and I looked over to see Emily showing no remorse with Spencer. Poor thing. Elle had stretched him, and Emily took a second to let him adjust, but now he was ruined. Absolutely destroyed. He was going to be wobbling on our way off the jet when we would land, I just knew it. 

“I didn’t say you could stop, slut,” Morgan growled, grabbing me by the hair this time to make sure that I wouldn’t move away from him this time. I groaned as I took all of him in my mouth again. Just as he willed it, I bobbed my head up and down, my jaw slack, my tongue flat, my throat open to stop the gagging because he was using me as a hole and nothing else, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Hotch pissed me off suddenly by reaching under me to grab my breasts through my shirt, making me roll my hips eagerly against him. “So greedy.” He thrust roughly into me in an attempt to warn me off of acting out again, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cum. I had to cum. I needed some kind of relief. “Don’t you fucking dare—” He pulled out of me when he felt me tighten around him. “Brat.” He spanked me hard. “Elle.”

“I thought you understood that we didn’t train brats, baby,” Elle said, backing Hotch up. She teased her cleaned and re-lubed fingers at my ass now while Hotch realigned with my pussy. “You and bunny don’t get to cum.”

I moaned around Derek’s length as Elle and Hotch both thrusted into me simultaneously. He gave me every single inch he had to offer, making sure I felt just how big he was, the way he could reach deep places inside of me that made my knees weak every time. As for Elle, her approach had been a bit slower so that she could be safe. When her fingers were moving in me, she only put them in about half way before gently pulling them out and pushing them back in, this time all the way to the bottom knuckle, and then she curled her fingers. Morgan held me steady as I moaned around him again. The three of them working together to fill each of my holes was… I mean, they had all filled me further before, but this just felt so different… so good…

“Mmm—” Morgan bucked his hips up so that he could fuck my face harder. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted as his fingers gripped my hair harder. He let out a grunt as his whole body tensed, his orgasm finally hitting him like a train. As his cum spilled into my mouth, I used his hesitancy as a chance to finally move my tongue around, stimulating his shaft, making him twitch and squirm a bit more, and I hummed happily around him to make it even worse. They were torturing me, the least I could do was slyly return the favor. “Shit, baby!” He pulled me off before I could continue overstimulating. “Fuck.” His thumb caressed my cheek lovingly for a second. “Go on. Swallow.” I shook my head. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take anything more. I was so full, I felt like I was going to explode. He furrowed his brows. “Swallow, slut.” I kept shaking my head, and I tried to escape Elle and Hotch so that I could find somewhere to spit, but they held my hips still while Morgan grabbed my face. “Swallow.”

I searched his eyes for a moment, quickly realizing that he wasn’t going to release me until I did as he asked. Even if the jet landed and we were supposed to be getting off, probably to head back to mine and Hotch’s place to finish all of this, Morgan was going  to sit there with me until I swallowed. I had no choice. While keeping my gaze even with his, I slowly swallowed the load he gave me. When I was done, I opened my mouth to prove my success, and he finally let go of me while grinning.

“Was that so hard?” he teased.

“Mistress,” Spencer moaned, his voice muffled somewhat, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Morgan and I looked away from each other to investigate what was happening, and it was just as our attention was brought to him that we saw Spencer slump as he gave up. Emily was still fucking him, don’t get me worng, but his poor, red, needy cock was leaking, begging for the cock rings to be taken off so that he could ejaculate— and he just couldn’t take the denial anymore. He couldn’t take being on the brink constantly. Holding his posture for her so that he could fuck his ass, keeping his head turned so that we could hear his pathetic noises, all of that meant nothing to him now. They had finally broken him.

“It hurts,” he complained.

“Color,” she whispered, brushing his curls back so that she could lean over his back and start kissing his neck lovingly.

“Green, but I can’t… I can’t… I’m gonna—”

“The two of you and not being able to hold it today,” Elle scolded, moving her fingers faster inside of my ass. “It’s like we need to teach you guys how to behave again and work on your stamina.”

Spencer and I quickly exchanged a worried glance. We hadn’t done stamina in so long. This was close, sure, but actual stamina training with Elle was the worst— especially if Hotch were there. They liked to tie me and Spencer up so that couldn’t move a single muscle, and then they’d press a vibrator against my clit while Spencer got the fleshlight. For hours, we would have to lay there, edging again and again as Hotch and Elle turned on my vibrator and started fucking the fleshlight over Spencer’s cock, and then they’d stop when we were close enough. It was torture. They purposefully gave us hard edges. The longer we went, the more rewards we earned for the week, but if we came, they ruined our orgasms before painfully continuing, and all of it was for the sake of increasing our stamina during sex and teaching us how to hold back our orgasms until we had permission. It worked after a while. Spencer was a lot worse at it than I was, but we finally got the hang of it, and the two of us were pretty good about holding out until we had proper permission; but there was just something about the atmosphere of being on the jet compared to being at someone’s house or in a hotel room that had our brains melted down to nothing. I had orgasmed once without permission, and there were multiple occasions while Hotch and Elle were fucking me from behind that I felt myself getting there again— and if they weren’t so good about pulling away on time to edge me, I would have cum again without permission, regardless of the punishment. But Spencer… He was trying so hard to be their good boy. He had touched himself without permission, which he knew wasn’t allowed, so he had accepted that he wasn’t allowed to cum, but those cock rings were straining against him, practically milking him considering the way he was leaking so helplessly; and it was just too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bunny, if you cum, we’re going to have to put you in your cage,” Emily warned.

“We should anyways,” Hotch panted from behind me.

Spencer shook his head urgently. “No. Please. I’ll be good. I- I prom… I promise.” He sighed as Emily changed her pace while fucking him. “I promise.” It sounded like he was crying now. “I promise…” Our little broken record. “I promise.” Not a single thought in that pretty head of his.

Hotch pulled out of me suddenly and he snatched away Elle’s fingers. My legs shook as my sudden, unexpected, unplanned orgasm was completely ruined. I hadn’t seen it coming. One second, I was watching Spencer fall apart, the next, I was clenching around nothing as my orgasm peaked yet I got no relief from the feeling since they had removed the stimulation when I needed it most. My clit was throbbing. I fell, just like Spencer, my cheek crashing against Morgan’s warm thigh.

“Their cuffs,” Hotch said pressingly. Morgan reached for his pants that were pooled at his ankles, and he grabbed the key from his pocket, then he handed it off to Hotch. “We’re done with you, baby girl,” he told me. I shook my head. I needed to cum. I had to… I had to cum… Geez, I felt as broken as Spencer looked. “Can you stand?” I shook my head again. “Okay…” He freed my hands and rubbed my wrists to ease the pain from every time I struggled against the metal bondings. “How bad is it?” he asked, taking my leash and gently tugging, a signal that he wanted me to turn around face him. I did so. When he saw my face, he chuckled, and Elle followed shortly, the two of them so impressed by how broken I must have looked. I knew that my hair was a mess, my eyes and bottom lip were pouting, and my legs were still shaking. I looked ridiculous. “That bad, princess?” He stroked his cock at the sight of me.

“Fuck them again like this,” Elle encouraged seductively in his ear. “Both of them on their backs…” she said a little louder so that everyone could hear her. “Taking what we give them.”

Hotch fell in love with the idea, immediately shooing Morgan off the couch so that he could throw me onto it. I yelped as I landed on the cushions. My right thigh was just next to Spencer’s face— so close that I could feel his pants against my skin— and Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were standing just in front of me, licking their hips with lust and hunger in their eyes. Hotch was still running his grip up and down his length at the sight of me.

“Look at the mess we made, bunny.” Morgan reached over and pulled at Spencer’s hair, pulling him upright so that his back was pressed flush against Emily’s chest as she used the new angle to fuck him harder and deeper. Spencer’s engorged penis twitched at the sight of me. My panties were soaked with a mixture of my wetness and cum. “Don’t they look so stupid?”

Spencer nodded while screwing his shut in response to Emily’s cock hitting a new spot inside of him. “Yes, Daddy. They look so good.”

I rolled my hips around, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. My whole body was on fire, and I just needed someone to touch me again. I needed to touch Spencer, which was the worst part, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me, and even if I could, a single touch was going to set him off, and I would’ve felt bad if they ruined him, too. 

“You want me, baby?” Hotch teased, gliding his thumbs over my hard nipples through my shirt.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to breed you?”

I let out a shaky breath before gulping and nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

He stopped fucking with me and he instead went back to stroking his cock. “I know you want to cum, baby,” he cooed, “but you can’t… Rules are rules.” He started fucking his fist faster. “Good girls get to cum.” His breath was ragged now. “You weren’t good.”

Elle grabbed his face and turned him so that they were suddenly kissing, and he pushed his hand past her pants and panties so that he could press a finger directly against her clit. They moaned together.

“I’m going to cum,” Spencer warned. Morgan was holding his leash taut, forcing Spencer to keep his back against Emily’s chest while she moaned into his neck and left a hundred different hickies. “Please. Please, Mistress.”

“No.”

“I can’t hold it.” He was leaking onto my knee now, that was how close together we were.

“I said, no. You cum, you get caged.”

“Fuck—” What Emily said did the opposite of what she had intended. Instead of deterring him from cumming, the threat of being locked up in a cock cage enticed Spencer, tipping him over the edge that he needed so badly. “I’m cumming!”

Just as his dick started twitching, Elle jumped into action, quickly grabbing my hips and turning me so that Spencer was lined up between my legs, and she pushed my panties to the side. Emily fucked harshly into Spencer as he started cumming. The force of her action jolted Spencer forward, putting his tip directly at my entrance. We both moaned at the feeling. I needed him, and it seemed he needed me, because when he felt how wet I was, his weak, repressed load slowly poured into me. He had tried to hold back. I could tell with how sad his orgasm was and how he was whimpering that he didn’t want to cum. He wanted to be good for them. But Emily fucking him, Morgan trying to choke him with the collar, the cock rings squeezing his penis and swollen balls, and my torture that he was witnessing was all too stimulating to every single one of his senses. He had to cum the same way I had to cum earlier when they denied my orgasm.

Emily stopped fucking him to make sure that the orgasm was shorter and to ensure that he didn’t go any further into me than necessary. They wanted his cum to be inside of me, but that was it. They didn’t want either of us to enjoy it.

Without warning, Hotch grabbed my hips away from Elle, putting me back where I was so that I was facing him, and he thrust into me suddenly, cumming within an instant, too. “Fuck…”

He came much harder than Spencer had because he wanted to give me everything, to fulfill the breeding kink we had. All I felt was the stretch and the warmth of his semen, though, because he refused to thrust to help ride out his high since it would have inevitably pleased me, too, and that wasn’t the point. He wanted me to be full and to get nothing out of it.

When he caught his breath, he pulled out of me slowly. I whined at the loss. “Did you learn a valuable lesson?” he questioned.

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Which was?”

“No cumming without permission. Ever. Under any circumstances. My orgasms don’t belong to me.”

“Good girl. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom then come back for water, a snack, and play with Spencer’s hair.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

I melted at the praise. “Really, Sir? Even though I broke a thousand rules?”

“Even then. You did good.”

Emily got the cuffs off Spencer, and he immediately went to pry off the cock rings, but Morgan slapped his hands away. Spencer stared at me as Morgan started gently pulling off the metal one around his shaft. “Daddy,” he hissed, his eyes clenching shut. Emily and Elle were running their fingers through Spencer’s hair already to help him calm down. “Fuck,” he gasped when it was off. “Thank you.” He then prepared himself as Morgan went to release the tie that was around Spencer’s balls. When the pressure was gone, Spencer slumped, falling somewhat, and we all reached forward to catch him. “Thank you.” Hotch kissed Spencer’s temple and pulled him onto his lap on the couch. “I’m sorry for cumming without permission.”

“We’ll call it even, bunny,” Morgan said, referencing how I had done the same thing. “You and baby did so well.”

Elle grabbed the lotion from Spencer’s bag that he used for aftercare, and she started massaging it between his cheeks as Hotch continued to hold him. “You, too,” she told me while still tending to Spence. I went to sit down, but Emily beat me to it, taking the only spot left beside Hotch, and she patted her hands on her lap. I laid over her the same way Spencer was on Hotch. Our faces were close again.

“May we?” Spencer begged.

“Yes,” Morgan answered.

Just as Elle started using her other hand to massage some lotion onto my ass, Spencer and I started kissing. He tasted so good. It was comforting rather than erotic, and I felt myself slowly easing out of sub space in a way that didn’t let me drop. I hoped that he was okay, too.

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you, Spence.”

He kissed me harder before mumbling, “I love you, too.”

----

criminal minds family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @alex--awesome--22 @oceaneblu @brithedemonspawn @absolutemarveltrash @bshelley322 @rousethemouse @sunshinepower17 @weexinling @pettttyyyc​ @Braty-angel

[word-scribbless]

Lucky to Have You

I have been wanting to write but just haven’t been inspired and then I saw a gif of bearded Hotch and my writers block was cured for a little. Enjoy the fluff!

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Masterlist

——————

You sat on Aaron’s bed curled up with a sick Jack, all the blankets you could find, and coco playing on the tv.

God you missed your boyfriend.

You had been dating Aaron Hotchner for a beautiful 6 months before all hell broke loose.

Emily Prentiss, one of your very best friends and former co workers was killed, your boyfriend was sent to Pakistan and you were just trying to keep yourself together let alone Jack and your BAU family. That was 3 months ago now.

You laid there at stroking jacks hair and thinking of the choices you’ve made in the past year, how proud Emily would be of you and how much you really miss her and Aaron. You pushed the tears about Emily away and focused on how far you’ve come from having a hopeless crush on your boss, to laying in his bed taking care of his son.

You had transferred from the BAU to linguistics about 2 months in to your relationship. You had always wanted to end up there and figured you’d do the fun dangerous job before you settled down. Then you met Aaron and Jack and you knew right away that you were ready to be home more, you were ready to be with Aaron Hotchner with out it being a secret.

Before your relationship began, you worked with the BAU for about a year while slowly falling in love with your boss. You two had become the best of friends. Emily, pen, and jj always told you he wanted more too but you couldn’t let yourself believe it. That is until the day he had an emergency meeting with Strauss and Jessica was called away to help her dad. You automatically offered to watch Jack. You smile as you remember overhearing Hotch tell Dave the problem.

“I know I should have a back up but all my back ups are here Dave, I’ll just ask someone to go get him and bring him here…”

You had ran up to hotch’s office to drop off paperwork when you heard his talking to Rossi.

“I’ll watch him” you volunteered right away.

It took a few minutes of convincing but finally he gave in and you spent a perfect afternoon with Jack until his dad got home around dinner. All three of you sat down to eat the dinner you made. It all felt perfect and meant to be. Turns out Aaron felt the same way.

“Y/N thank you so much” He said as he walked you to your car door that night.

“Always Aaron you know that”

“But thank you for everything. The two of us are so so lucky to have you.” He said as he placed a hand on your hip and you leaned into him a bit.

“I’m lucky to have you both” you said as he leaned closer to you “I’m so glad to have you Aaron.” You whispered before he leaned in and placed the most perfect gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled as you pulled apart and he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Will you let me take you out Y/N.” He asked sweetly and you couldn’t stop your giant smile as you nodded.

Since that perfect night she and Aaron had started the best relationship she ever had been in.

As you laid in bed with Jack you thought of your boyfriend. The man who lost a team mate, a friend and been sent to Pakistan away from his son and girlfriend. You thought about how much you wished he was with you both. Curled up around you and Jack making you both smile and Jack feel better.

A few hours later you and Jack had both dozed off. You woke up to the ringing of your phone. Every time you woke up you automatically would reach for Aaron then realize that he wasn’t here. As you fought the inevitable sadness you answered your phone and heard Derek’s voice on the line.

“Is everything okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, I need you to come in got word from Hotch.”

“Be right there let me call Jess.” You said as you slipped out from under Jack.

About 20 minutes later you were driving to Quantico thinking about the last phone call you had with Aaron. You driven in to fill him in about Jack and talk to him and Derek about Doyle. Of course you hadn’t stopped looking even if the FBI thought you had. You didn’t have much time to just take him in, his voice how he was. God you missed that man.

As you walked in to the conference room where you were told the team was your mouth dropped. There standing the head of the room was Aaron Hotchner. Next to the Emily,, alive and well. You knew he had been hiding something, you also knew sometimes he had to keep secrets from you. You hated it but knew this was for a reason, as much as it sucked… you would get over it. right now all you could do is be happy your best friend was back, and your boyfriend was here. And he was sporting the sexiest beard you had ever seen.

You paused and your keys dropped to the floor as you locked eyes with him.

Quickly Emily ran over to hug you. You were thankful for her support since your legs felt like jello.

“I missed you!” She said into the hug.

“I’m so happy you were fake dead I can’t even made that you guys lied your faces off.” You said as you felt Emily chuckle into the hug and she watched Aaron physically relax. He must have been nervous you would be mad. Jj must have known too because at your words she physically relaxed as well.

“You may be the only one not mad.” Emily breathed.

“Eh they’ll get over it, being you’re alive and all.”

“Yeah well I think you’re boyfriend might need some extra support.”

“Gladly” you said as Emily let go so you could move to him. The rest of the team huddled around her, giving you both space as you collapsed in Aaron’s arms.

He scooped you in and you broke down. He had you so tightly wrapped in his arms and you hadn’t felt so safe in months.

“Y/N I’m so sorry. I I had to.” He whispered against you and you shivered and squeezed him tighter as his voice cracked with emotion. You close your eyes and take in the feeling of his hands, his handsome beard, his strong body.

“I’m not worried about it, I hate that you had to lie to me, and leave, but all I care about is you both being home safe.”

“God I got so lucky” Aaron whispered.

You knew you would always hate the fact that you had to grieve your best friend and that your boyfriend had to lie to you and be away from you for 3 months. However she couldn’t deny she couldn’t be mad at him or her friends for doing what they had to.

“Me too aaron.” You say as you hold him. “And don’t even get me started on how lucky I am to see you with this this beard!” You said flirtatiously as you stroked his cheek.

He smiled at you and winked. “I’m sure Jack will hate it but I’ll keep it for at least a night.”

You laughed and winked back to him. “ that’s all I ask.” You said and kissed his cheek.

“Now let’s get this bastard finally so Jack and I can have you home!”

“Anything to be back with my favorite people.”

Later that night You were back in Aaron’s bed wrapped around Jack again, except this time you were looking into the incredibly handsome eyes of your boyfriend. Jack had jumped for joy despite his aching throat when his dad walked through the door. As Aaron had guessed he didn’t love the beard but agreed that he could deal with it for a few days when his daddy said you liked it.

You reached across Jack and cupped his cheek smiling as he turned his head to kiss your hand.

“I know this is an awful way to do this, but please stay, officially move in with us. I know you were staying here between leases while I was gone, but I don’t want you to look for a new place. Move in with us?”

You smiled with tears in your eyes

“I was really really hoping you’d say that!”

Jack woke up just a little as Aaron leaned in to kiss you.

“Ooo were kissing Y/N” he whispered as he kissed your cheek.

You giggled and Aaron hugged you both saying “I asked Y/N if she wanted to keep living here with us.”

“Yayyyyyy!” Jack rasped out and hugged her.

“Don’t you wanna know if she said yes?” Aaron laughed to his son.

“You have your giant Y/N smile on ofcourse she said yes!” He said to his dad with a ‘duh’ face

“I am so happy both my boys are here!” You say as you snuggle them both to you and smother their faces with kisses.

Tag list:

@averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien 

[doctorstethoscope]

In the Garden || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

hello babes! Something a little different today-- I didn’t have time to write a request that I was going to be pleased with, so this is something that’s been sitting in my drive for a while. Hope you like it! 

Submit requests here! 

contains: sexual innuendo, gun mention

wordcount: 2.4k

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress, much less a gown like the one JJ was zipping you into now-- dresses weren’t practical for field work with the BAU, and even when you’d worked in the counterterrorism unit, you’d much preferred a professional blouse and pair of slacks. But the First Lady had decided to throw a ball in the White House to celebrate federal employees, and the Bureau was receiving an award, which the Director had hand-picked the BAU to accept. So, gown. Even though you’d much prefer to be changing into a pair of sweats-- you had been called on a case two days before the ball, and Garcia saved the day by running to everyone’s apartments and grabbing their nice clothes so you all wouldn’t be late. Which is how you found yourself squeezing into a sleek off the shoulder number in the Batcave, with Emily batting at your face with a makeup brush and JJ tugging at your zipper. 

“Babe, you look hot.” Penelope says as Emily and JJ step away from you, admiring their work. 

“All Emily’s work,” you deflected with a shy smile. 

“We’ll have that fight when we’re not running late,” Emily said, pulling you out of Garcia’s office, she and JJ not far behind. 

Derek let out a wolf whistle when he saw you all approaching, and you heard JJ’s windchime laugh from a few steps behind. 

“Hello ladies,” he said with an exaggerated leer. 

“Derek Morgan, you’re lucky that my thigh holster doesn’t go with this dress.” Emily spits out, and all of you burst out in laughter. 

“Chocolate thunder, you clean up good,” Garcia says, crossing to Derek, who moved to put his arm around her shoulders as Reid emerged into the bullpen. 

“Speaking of cleaning up good,” JJ says with a small smile, and you catch Reid blushing. 

“Did you know that balls like this can cost American taxpayers up to a million dollars?” He asks the group, and you smile.

“Maybe don’t mention that when the first lady gives us the award, yeah Spence?” You tease, and he treats you to a little chuckle.

You hear Hotch before you turn to see him and Rossi. “Alright, let’s go,” He says, leading the group out of the BAU and towards your SUVs. You end up in the passenger seat of the car Rossi is driving. 

“You doing okay, kid? You’re awful quiet this evening. Invitations to Federal Government Prom don’t come often, you know.” He smirks, and you half-ass a smile in return. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, Rossi. Just tired, you know. Would have preferred to get a night’s sleep in my own bed before we did this, you know?” 

He nods, but there’s no use in lying to a profiler. 

The food, you have to admit, is leagues better than the instant ramen you would have cooked up if you had gone home tonight. And the conversation isn’t half bad either, you admit to yourself as you lazily flirt with Paul, a junior fellow from the Department of Health and Human Services, just barely putting in enough effort to seem interested while allowing your mind to wander.

The sensation of a warm hand in between your exposed shoulder blades distracts you from your train of thought. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron’s deep baritone interrupts Paul’s nervous tenor. “I’d like to cut in for a dance, if you don’t mind.”

Paul sputters, and you laugh, because you know that Aaron was asking you, not this early-thirties politico type that he towered over, both physically and morally. 

“We’ll catch up later?” you said to Paul, with absolutely no intent to catch up later, before Aaron led you out to the dance floor. 

“Hotch, I’m gonna step on your feet.” You warned. 

“No you won’t,” he assures you. “Follow my lead.” 

You do as you’re told, and you’re surprised to realize just how easy it is to follow him, anywhere. 

“Aaron Hotchner, when on Earth did you learn to ballroom dance?” You asked incredulously. 

“Boarding school,” He answers with an easy smile.

“You’re joking,” you accuse. 

“Ah, yes, something I’m known to do.”

“You remain a mystery, Hotchner.”  You tell him.

“I don’t know. That might have been my last secret.” 

You roll your eyes, content to continue dancing, and finding yourself getting distracted again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asks, and you mentally curse yourself for letting your guard down in front of your boss. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. But really grateful to be here, of course, and--”

“I wasn’t asking as your boss, you can stand down,” He smirks, dipping you quickly and it takes your breath away. “You’re thinking of leaving.” He says as he lifts you back up, and it’s not a question. 

“How did you-- I can’t believe-- Damn profilers.” You harrumphed. 

“You’ve been distant, the past couple weeks. You’re in your early twenties accepting an award at the White House, by all accounts you should be ecstatic. That’s when I knew something was wrong. And when I saw you with Peter, or whatever his name was, who you couldn’t be less interested in, that’s when I knew it was us.” 

“See, and that’s exactly why I need to leave. Because I’ll never be able to do that.” You tell him, finally looking him in the eye.

“You will,”  He says in a self-assured tone that does nothing to assuage your anxiety.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. 

“I do.” 

“Maybe I’m not good enough, Hotch.” You confess carelessly. He’s already figured you out. Might as well fess up to your deepest insecurities while your boss holds you and stares you down with his deep brown eyes in the middle of the East Room.

“You are,” he says in that same tone, that you’re sure is supposed to be calming but is only infuriating. 

“But maybe I’m not! Maybe I’m one of those people who always wanted to do it, who always wanted to be an agent, but it’s like a pipe dream for me. I don’t contribute to the team the same way everyone else does. I don’t pick up on the things that seem so obvious to all of you, and it sucks. I can still do good work, but you know-- you change your dreams and you grow up. Maybe I’m one of those people and I’m just not supposed to be here. I just can’t stay knowing that I’m not supposed to be here-- I have to leave.” You’re not even sure if your soliloquy makes any sense, but Aaron pulls you a little closer, so he can speak the next few words lowly, directly into your ear. 

“You’ve been here eight months. It takes time. You are an incredible agent, and an asset to this team. I don’t need another profiler that sees the same things we all see-- I need you, and your observations, the things we missed-- those are the things that solve cases. I can’t-- I can’t allow you to change your dream. I can’t let you leave. I need you here.” 

You let his words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks again. 

“The, uh-- the team needs you. We all need you, and your observations, is what I meant.” He stammers. 

“Hotch?’ You ask, confused by the sudden change in tone. 

“Do you want to go get some fresh air? Get away from the crowd?” He asks, pulling away to look at you, and there’s an invitation in his eyes. Maybe a more seasoned profiler would know exactly what it was, but you were excited to find out nonetheless.  

“Yeah, I think I do.”

You’re certain that you’re breaking some sort of law as Hotch pulls you out of the ballroom and down a hallway, his fingers interlocked with yours. You try not to think about it too much. Your heels click against the marble floors as you follow Aaron’s brisk pace, and eventually he finds a door outside, opening it up and allowing you to pass through it first. It takes a minute to place yourself, especially under the cover of night, but after a moment you realize you’re in the rose garden. 

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” You say under your breath with a little laugh as you look out over the sprawling display of flowers and plants. 

“It definitely beats the Quantico courtyard,” Aaron agrees.

“Never thought I’d make it there, either.” You confess, not looking at him.

“But you did. It wasn’t meant to be easy, but you made it, and you’ll grow. You just need time.” He tells you. 

“How can you be so sure?” You ask, feeling your eyes well up. 

“I was young once, too.” He tells you with a self-deprecating grin. 

“You can’t play up the wise, ancient elder with me, Hotch. I’ve seen you chase Jack across a soccer field like you’re still in your twenties.” You laugh, but he can hear the emotions behind it.

“Hey, come on, I mean it. I’m not Rossi, but I’ve got my fair dose of wisdom to share,” he says, moving closer to you and placing a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Let’s keep dancing. If you want to talk, you can talk. But you thought you couldn’t dance, and you could dance, right? So we can keep doing that until you believe me.” He said, pulling your hand up in his and placing his other on your waist. 

The two of you moved slowly, the orchestra from inside only barely audible from where you were standing. With Hotch’s bad ear, he could really only hear it when his body was angled just right in the direction of the East Room, but somehow he had perfect rhythm regardless. You move in silence for a song or two or three before Hotch speaks up again. 

“I lied to you, earlier.” He confesses, still guiding you effortlessly through a simple waltz. 

“How do you mean?” You ask, suddenly nervous that you were right, that you’re a complete failure of an agent, and that you need to pack your bags and head on back to Kansas.

“I lied when I said that I’d told you my last secret.”

“Oh,” you said, too caught up in your own head to try to understand what he was saying.

“And I lied when I told you that I meant the team needed you--” you felt that bone-crushing weight on your soul again-- “we do, of course, but that’s not what I meant.” 

“Hotchner, what are you talking about?” You finally asked, no longer able to tolerate the emotional whiplash of his conversation.

“When I said I needed you, I meant it.” 

“Oh,” you say, your face a portrait of shock and confusion, even though you understood him completely. 

“That’s selfish of me as a person, and wrong of me as your superior, and maybe that means that I’m outing myself as the kind of fucked-up person that isn’t worth another second of your time, but I needed you to know.” He stops dancing now, tries to hedge a bit of space between you without letting you go entirely. 

“Aaron,” you whisper, clinging to him more tightly as he pulls away, feeling his jacket wrinkle under your fingernails. 

“Yes?” he whispers back. 

“I’m glad you told me,” you tell him, and that’s all the permission he needs to take your face in both of your hands and kiss you, with a gentleness that makes you feel like spun gold, with the reverence of a man who knows that love is not a game, with the hunger of one who has been starved for months. 

He pulls away from you, too soon, and your eyes are wet. “My resignation will be on your desk by Monday morning.”

He takes a step away. “What do you--” 

“Goodnight, Aaron,” You tell him with a sad little smile, turning around towards the door you came from and leaving him in the garden.

You’re drowning your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s when the doorbell rings the next day. You swing the door open grumpily, to reveal Aaron. 

“It’s Saturday, and you can’t turn in your resignation until 9am Monday. What can I do in the next forty eight hours to convince you that you belong here?” Aaron asks, still standing in the hall of your apartment complex.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. You can’t give him what he wants, but you won’t have this argument where all the neighbors will hear, either. “It’s too late, Hotch.”

“It’s not too late,” he argues, checking his watch. “I have forty six hours and thirteen minutes.”

“I’ll still be the girl who got this job on her back forty six hours from now.” You tell him, folding your arms.

“You’ll be what?” He asks, incredulous. 

“I know that you heard me loud and clear. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know that you slept with Erin Strauss. I didn’t think you were her type.” He says, and you let out an exasperated sigh. 

“You’re absolutely incorrigible!” You cry out. 

“Who implied that you got this job on anything other than your own merit?” Aaron asks, a glint in his eye that lets you know that they’ll be handled just as soon as he gets you to shred the letter of resignation you drafted last night.

“Didn’t I? You didn’t clear my promotion because you were attracted to me?” You asked.

“I cleared your promotion before we even met-- your interview was a bureau formality. Your reputation and the glowing recommendations from your peers in counterterrorism spoke volumes.”  He assures you.

“Oh,” you let out, your anger deflating. 

“If you want to leave because of my inappropriate behavior, please reconsider. I’m incredibly sorry for--” He starts, but you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Please continue to be inappropriate,” you tell him in between kisses. 

He smiles as he continues to place kisses across your face, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “Right now?” He asks, slipping a hand underneath your shirt.  “You want me to be inappropriate right now?” 

“If you’re really good at it, I’ll let you tear up my resignation yourself.” 

@romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @rousethemouse @scuttling

[literaila]

this undeniable irritable space

spencer reid x reader 

this is part 2 to space, which is about a “clingy” reader and a spencer with a need for “space”

and you should probably read that first.. but um you dont have to i guess? if you dont want to? 

warnings: angst. lots of angst. spencers really angsty. really really. um.. theres a panic attack so if thats triggering please dont read please. its really rushed, and a lot longer than planned. so? sorry if it sucks. enjoy.

“I love her.” 

Insecurities were hard to shake. 

Y/N had always had that problem. The things that she despised about herself stuck to her skin like germs. Germs that crawled up her neck and into her mouth and under her skin until they were so far back, so deep inside that she couldn't reach them. 

She couldn't get Spencer's words out of her head. 

They had talked it out. Spencer reassured her that he loved touching her, that he wanted to feel her hand in his, any opportunity he got. They had decided that what had happened turned out to be a miracle in disguise because now neither of them were afraid. Touching was the way they loved each other, and there weren't any boundaries left. 

That didn't mean that Spencer's words just drifted off into the abyss. 

Now they seemed even more stuck to Y/N skin, implanted into her thoughts. Y/N knew that she shouldn't care about what he said, he had repeatedly shown her how much he loved touching her in the couple of days that had passed. He made sure to kiss her any opportunity he could, they were constantly cuddling, whether that be in bed while making dinner, on the couch watching a movie, in the shower. There were no limits to their constant clinginess. Both of them loved it, and they couldn't get enough. 

But that didn't mean that there wasn't any fear. 

Y/N worried that Spencer had just said all of that as to not hurt her feelings, that in reality he didn't like touching her, and he just wanted to make her happy because that's who he is, he never wanted to disappoint anyone, always wanted the best for the people he loved. 

It was one of the things Y/N loved most about him, one of the things that drew her to him in the first place, she could see how much he loved all his teammates just by the way he paid attention to them, by the way, he knew exactly how everyone liked their coffee, by the way, he always made sure to thank Garcia anytime she did anything to help, by the way, he always checked on Derek after a case, to make sure it hasn't affected him too badly. Spencer showed it by loving JJ and Henry constantly, he showed it by making sure Hotch wasn’t the last one in the office every night, by listening to Rossi and adding on when he thought it was appropriate. Spencer showed his constant love for everyone around him every day. It was what made him so approachable. 

But it also caused Y/N a lot of worries. 

She was worried he was so focused on making everyone- making her- happy that he wasn't giving himself the things he needed. She didn't want Spencer to let her cuddle him and kiss him and love him just to make her happy, she didn't want him to pretend to be comfortable even if he wasn't. 

So she watched him.

She hoped he didn't notice the way she watched him. 

She was constantly looking for a wince, a little second glance, an uncomfortable smile, an irritated look, anything that would prove that what she was doing was wrong. 

Apparently, her profiling skills aren't up to scratch though because she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. 

Though there was still a tiny part of her that couldn't believe it, just couldn't accept it, she had to keep searching, she wasn't going to miss anything like she did the last time. 

“Sometimes though- I just- I want some space”

***

Spencer wasn't oblivious. 

Obviously. 

He was a genius, and he was prone to remembering things. Which means he noticed when Y/N started watching him. He saw the way she was more cautious in touching him, the way she watched his face more, the way she closed her eyes every time he held her like she was afraid it would be the last time. 

He felt terrible. 

The things he had said should have never affected their relationship, they were never meant to affect their relationship. In all honesty, he had only said them as a way to vent, as a way to blame something about how stressed he was feeling. And Y/N should have never heard any of it. 

It was a ridiculous thing to say anyway as if Spencer could ever live without constantly feeling the warmth and reassurance in Y/N touch. 

She wasn't mad, she had made that much clear, but Spencer still couldn't help but worry that she was still upset about what he had said. He was still upset about it so how couldn’t she be? 

The hesitation, the crease in her brows when they were millimeters apart, the way she was trying to find the truth in his eyes every time she looked at him, it all made him feel a million times worse. 

But there was something about tonight. Tonight was making it worse. 

The team had decided to go out together, happy to have a break from dead bodies and insane people. It wasn't rare for them to go out, especially after a hard case, it was strange though that they’d had multiple days off in a row. When Emily had suggested going to one of the bars close to the office as a way to keep the streak going, no one had protested. They all seemed a bit happier. 

Of course, the night had been spent checking their phones constantly and talking about their jobs, but that also wasn't unusual. 

Spencer was having a difficult time though. Y/N and he had spent their days at the office going over paperwork and sneaking glances at each other from their desks and spent their nights cuddling and making out, laughing while making dinner and savoring as much time together as possible. In some weird way they seemed closer now, but even more afraid. Neither of them mentioned it though, both of them trying to avoid as much confrontation as possible. 

But what made Spencer's night difficult was touching. 

Derek, Penelope, and Y/N had all decided to make their way to the small makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room- after a few drinks of course- and while Y/N had dragged Spencer out too because there was no way she was going to let him just sit back and watch, he had eventually made his way back to the table where Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi were sat content. 

But he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, the way she laughed at both Derek and Garcia, the way her eyes were lit up in happiness, the gentle sway of her hips as she danced to the beat... And the way her face was thrown back and glowing under the dimmed lights of the Bar. 

She was beautiful. 

There were lots of other eyes on her as well, both men and women staring directly at her, all of them never wanting to look away. It didn't seem like she noticed or she just didn't care, because usually, she wasn't prone to direct spotlight. Either way, she was the catch of the night. 

Spencer didn't care about the eyes on her, while he was known to get jealous from time to time, he didn't mind the eyes, they only proved that she was gorgeous, and all his. He knew that. 

What Spencer did mind though, was the touching. Both, Derek and Garcia, touching her, freely, her touching back, freely. It wasn't jealousy, Spencer was well aware that neither Derek nor Garcia had any interest in being with Y/N, and even if they did Spencer knew that Y/N was happy with him. It was the way she didn't mind touching them, and they didn't mind touching her. 

There was no hesitation in her eyes when she threw her arms around Derek's neck and swayed her hips with him. There wasn't any searching when she looked him in the eyes, just laughter, and joy. When Garcia wrapped her arms around Y/N waist and bopped her head with her, Y/N didn't make any move to check to see if Garcia's body language was off. 

She was so carefree with them, so happy, never scared. 

It only seemed to make Spencer feel worse. Because she wasn't carefree like that with him, she had to check to make sure he was comfortable with her wrapping her arms around him, she had to check his eyes for any hint of anything but happiness, she couldn't just touch him without checking first. And it was all his fault. 

He wished there was a way to take back his words, to simply erase them from existing. He wished she hadn't heard him, he wished that he could have said anything else. Because touching was her way of loving, and he knew that. He knew that she showed her passion and appreciation with her body, with her warm hands, and strong arms, with her legs that were never too far from his. He’d always known that she loved touching others. And the words that came out of his mouth, the stupid words he’d blurted out about space, they were untrue, they were just an attack on her and himself. And they had ruined the carefree way she loved him. 

He wished she wasn't afraid to show her love for him. 

Spencer sat back in his chair with a glare in his eyes and a frown on his face, angry at himself, but never angry at her. 

“Reid?!” Rossi said, louder than the first two times he had called his name and Spencer didn't seem to notice. 

Spencer looked over at the four of them his face not wavering from the angry expression he had. 

“Woah, Kid. You alright? With the look on your face, we might be profiling you as our next unsub.” 

Spencer could tell they were profiling him, and he could see Emily look behind him as if she knew something he didn't. “Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking did you know that around 1.7 million people visit the emergency room due to assault and-” 

It seemed that the only thing he could do was take his mind off of it. And annoy his coworkers. 

***

There was something off with Spencer. Y/N had noticed it yesterday, after leaving with Penelope to get lunch. She couldn't tell what was wrong, but he seemed to have a frown on his face more often than not. And she figured she could just be blowing it out of proportion, maybe she had just seen him smiling so much in the last couple of days she wasn't used to seeing him without a grin or a smirk or a genuine smile. 

Still, something seemed off. 

He was mostly fine at home, he never looked upset when they were doing something, but as soon as she left the room and came back the frown was there. It always disappeared quickly, but it still concerned her. 

She asked him about it before they had left for the bar, “Is something up baby?” she had said, but he just shook his head and turned around so she couldn't see his face. She tried to pretend that was a normal answer. 

Now usually they talked out their problems, usually, they didn't have any problems at all. But not having problems means you don't stay used to talking them out, and it seemed that both of them were out of practice. 

When they got to the bar, both of them were happy, hand in hand sitting down with their friends and enjoying yet another night off. The bar was warm and familiar to all of them, and they were all perfectly comfortable. 

As the night when on Spencer seemed more and more upset. He never said anything weird, never did anything unusual that tipped Y/N off. But that small frown was still on his face, and he seemed less and less inclined to join in the conversation with all of them. 

It wasn't really bad until Y/N had come back from dancing with Penelope and Derek, all of them sweaty and exhausted, ready to down another beer or two. Spencer had tried to smile at Y/N but knowing him as well as she did, it was clearly forced. And she could see the closed-off look in his eyes, almost as if he was looking right through her.

She patted his leg and offered him a hesitant smile, hoping her eyes were conveying the message she was trying to send to him. He only looked at her though, still wearing the same fake smile. 

Y/N wondered if something had happened while she was on the other side of the bar if someone had said something, or he had remembered something. But Spencer never said anything so neither did she. 

The rest of the team were smiling and laughing, and none of them seemed to notice Spencer's closed-off body language and the look in his eyes, and the small frown, so Y/N figured she was just making it up. Her insecurities were just getting the best of her and telling her there was something wrong. 

Like they always did. 

Though she did try to keep the touching to a limit, if Spencer was feeling off there was more of a chance he didn't want to be bothered or touched. The insecurity telling her he didn't want to be touched, only seemed to get louder, voicing its opinion, and making her sit her legs leaning away from him, her thoughts filled with not making him uncomfortable. 

***

As the night went on Spencer was the same, frowning, distant, and closed off, And as the night went on Y/N stayed the same, cautious, worried, insecure. 

Their moods seemed to compliment each other, almost as if one of them was upset the other one had to be as well. 

Both of them hoped everything would be fine when they got home. 

Clearly, the entire team was trying to keep in their yawns, trying to keep the conversation alive, but Garcia looked practically dead, and everyone was speaking in a whisper. 

The bar had cleared out, with only some young college kids still out at two in the morning. When Hotch pointed that out and then said that they all looked too old to be counted as a college kid- which Rossi took offense to making the rest of the team laugh- they decided to call it a night. 

Derek had to practically drag Garcia off of the table she was drooling on, and Y/N helped him get her in the car. JJ and Emily decided to share a cab home, both of them waving everyone goodbye before heading off. Rossi and Hotch both reassured that everyone would be alright before getting into their cars and going home. Derek kissed Y/N on the cheek and pretended to kiss Spencer before driving Garcia home. 

When it was just Spencer and Y/N, Y/N looked at him and asked “Are you going to drive, or am I?” Spencer, whose eyes looked even more tired than usual, smiled at her- for real this time which Y/N noted- and said, 

“Legally I don't think you’re allowed to drive.” 

Y/N yawned and handed him the keys, too tired to come up with a snarky response. 

They both got in the car, basking in the warmth the heater provided on a cold night. Y/N laid her head against the seat while Spencer put the car in drive, so they could head home. 

It wasn't long before Y/N fell asleep. Lulled by the quiet engine and dark night. 

Spencer fonded at her, listening to her soft breathing and smiling silently to himself. Sometimes, he thought, he wished it was just the two of them forever. It seemed that if he could just spend the rest of his life alone with her everything would be alright. Everything was always alright when he was alone with her. 

It was a short drive to their apartment, and while Spencer was hesitant to wake her, he knew that sleeping in the car wasn't good for avoiding exhaustion, and he wanted to know she was safe in bed with him. 

He carefully opened her door, running his thumb over her cheek, before gently picking her up bridal style, and feeling thankful they lived on the first floor of the apartment complex so he didn't have to carry her up the stairs. 

It was hard for him to keep his eyes off her sweet face as he walked to their door, but he didn't want to drop her so he managed to. He unlocked the door, surprised he could even do it with her in his arms. What he didn't notice was her eyes carefully opening and staring at him. 

“You’re so striking.” 

Spencer quickly looked down at her, his steps halted in their living room, shaking her only slightly, he was surprised by her words, he was surprised that she was even awake. 

He cleared his throat trying to not look so surprised, while she giggled at him. “T-thank you, I didn't realize you were awake, I wanted to let you sleep.” 

Y/N yawned, bringing her hand to her mouth, then looked back up at him smiling while he opened the door to their room, “I know” she said, keeping her eyes on his soft face. 

He gently laid her down in bed, gestured for her to stay there while he headed to their closet. Y/N thought about the way he was so gentle with her, and the way he didn't look as upset as earlier. 

Spencer brought her some pajamas and helped her change into them, having already changed into his, Y/N couldn't help but almost fall asleep while he did this, she knew that he would take care of her, and she felt so safe with him and so tired. 

Spencer smiled at her, kissed her forehead before moving around the bed to get to his side. 

“Spencer?” he heard softly from three feet away. 

“Yes?” he said only slightly louder than Y/N. 

There was a slight pause before she said “I missed you tonight.” in only a whisper. 

“I was with you Y/N…” Spencer felt her move closer to him, cuddling into him and resting her cheek on his arm as to use it as a pillow. He almost thought she was asleep before she made a quiet sound and shook her head, her breathing slowing down and her face blank. 

Watching her, Spencer knew that, even if he didn't want to, he needed to talk to her. 

***

The next morning, Y/N had slept amazing, and Spencer had only gotten a few hours. 

He couldn't stop thinking about what to say to Y/N without making her feel bad or making himself seem like the victim. 

For a genius, he was terrible at being in a relationship. 

When he wasn't thinking he was staring at Y/N cuddled upon his arm, her breaths constantly reminding him how much he needed and appreciated her. 

And when Y/N woke up she could tell there was still something off. There was a feeling in the room, a feeling she didn't like. The anxiety that was building up in her chest was causing her to panic, it felt like a rope was being tied over her lungs getting pulled tighter and tighter the longer the silence went on. Spencer wasn't in the room, his side of the bed wasn't made, and there was something wrong. 

This time Y/N knew there was something wrong, she could feel it when she breathed in trying to provide any relief to her chest. She could feel it when she stood up and felt her body sway, her eyes going blurry then black and when she had to sit back down. She could feel it again when she stood up without feeling lightheaded and felt goosebumps all over her skin. She felt it when she stepped out of their room, not finding Spencer in the bathroom, and saw him sitting down at the table. 

Everything was fine yesterday she thought, why was she freaking out, everything was fine yesterday they were smiling and laughing and they cuddled. Everything was fine yesterday she couldn't be freaking out today because everything was still fine. 

She couldn't get the air to her lungs. 

Spencer didn't notice her. 

She could feel the tears pricking in her eyes, reminding her how weak she was, reminding her of all the panic attacking her body. She could felt the rope get tighter. 

Her eyes got blurry as the tears she tried hard to keep in got bigger. 

She was standing in the middle of the room, freaking out, trying so hard to be quiet, trying so hard to not cry, trying so hard to just breathe. She just needed to breathe. If she could breathe she would be fine. 

And that was when Spencer noticed her. 

He figured she wouldn't be up for a couple more hours at least, while he knew he wasn't going to get much sleep, he knew that she would need a lot more than him. So he got up, he didn't want to wake her up with his relentless moving, and his restless thoughts. 

He thought she’d be asleep for a couple more hours. 

But his girlfriend was standing in the doorway of their room, her face frozen her eyes wide, her entire body looked like it was closing in on itself, and she was desperately holding on to the doorway like it was the only way to keep herself up. 

She looked terrified. 

He had no idea what had happened. 

Spencer got up, almost knocking the chair over with how quickly he moved, and going over to her, trying to take in everything that was in front of him. 

Y/N couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her face, and as Spencer grabbed her face, she gasped trying to grab onto the air she knew was right in front of her face. It didn't work. She tried again, and again and again, she was breathing in and out with so much force Spencer could hear her voice catch every time. 

She was having a panic attack. 

She couldn't breathe. 

Y/N could see Spencer's lips moving, but the rope was pulling tighter and tighter and all she wanted was to breathe, she just wanted to feel the air in her lungs, she just wanted the rope to stop pulling, to stop pulling pulling her away and she just wanted to listen to Spencer, and she didn't know what was wrong with her but she couldn't 

breathe 

And everything was blurry, and she could feel the tears running down her face, and she felt like she was suffocating from the inside out and suddenly she was on the floor. 

Spencer helped her sit down, trying to talk to her, trying to figure out what was wrong, trying to understand.

He moved her head between her knees, needing her to stop hyperventilating, if he could get her breathing then he could figure out how to help her more. 

It broke his heart to see her so scared, to see her eyes look so terrified, to feel so helpless with no way to help. He watched the tears run down her face over and over, and he tried to wipe them away but it was pointless because she couldn't stop crying. 

She was still hyperventilating, still trying to breathe, still trying to listen, still still still

And then she was asleep. 

***

Y/N was fine when she woke up. Spencer had freaked out when she went unconscious, had checked her pulse over and over again looking for any sign that something was wrong. 

But within a minute her heart had slowed down and her body had stopped shaking. 

She was fine. 

When she woke up, her eyes were sore and everything seemed loud. 

Spencer explained to her that she had had a panic attack, he explained that she had fainted, but she was alright, you’re alright he assured her. 

“I think your body was building up stress, I think you needed some sort of release from all the stress, I’m not really sure but everything is normal now, do you feel alright? Is something wrong? Do we need to go to the hospital? I need you to tell me you’re alright-”

This went on for a while, and Y/N told Spencer she was okay over and over again until he finally stopped freaking out. 

They sat in silence for a while. 

It was silent until Spencer decided to speak up again. 

“Y/N... What happened?”

That was a loaded question. And it took her a minute to answer, Spencer watched as she stared at the wall before finally speaking. 

“I could feel something wrong when I woke up. And- and-” she paused and swallowed trying not to cry at the memory “You were gone, and I just could feel something wrong and so I started worrying- and… I’m not really sure what happened after that.” 

As soon as she was finished Spencer intervened. 

“I couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep last night and I didn't want to wake you so I went to go think somewhere else. I’m sorry I wasn't there.” 

“No Spence, it's not your fault, just a lot of anxiety is all.” 

Spencer's eyes were on her face, his hands holding hers, trying to make her feel better, trying to make it all better. They both knew there was something wrong. 

“Anxiety about what?” He asked quietly, only a whisper, still looking right at her.

“I-” Y/N tried to think, tried to come up with a good way to explain, tried to come up with something that would help him understand. And eventually, she decided to just tell him the truth. “There's been something wrong, yesterday, I could tell there was something wrong, and when I woke up and I felt bad, I was worried, mostly about you and I just” she paused, finally looking at Spencer, “I think we need to talk.” 

Spencer swallowed hard, and nodded, looking down at the floor. They both just sat there for a minute, thinking, just thinking. Neither of them knew how to start but they both knew someone had to. 

Eventually, Spencer took the risk. “I don't think we talked enough last week… about what happened. I think we both just- decided? That everything was alright but I think we need to talk some more?” 

“Yeah- yes. We do.” 

Spencer got up off the bed, pulled her hand up gently and, moved her with him to the couch. He said he was going to make some tea, and get her some pain medication, and then they would finally talk. 

***

“I’m- I’m not really sure where to start.” Y/N said looking down at her coffee mug. 

Spencer sighed “I think I need to start with I’m sorry.” Y/N made a noise and started to talk but Spencer interrupted “No, really Y/N. What I said wasn't meant to hurt you, I never want to hurt you, but I did. And I’m sorry.” 

“Spence, it's not your fault, honestly I know I wasn't supposed to hear, and I know you didn't actually mean it, we talked about it last week-” 

“But that's the thing, if we had really talked about it last week like actually talked about it, you wouldn't be scared to touch me.” He looked at Y/N, almost as if he was daring her to disagree. 

Y/N was surprised, and she stammered out “I’m- I'm not scared to touch you!”. 

Spencer stared at her, his face blank and unmoving. Y/N started to get even more nervous and her hand came up to mess with her hair, a clear tell to her lying. 

“Well, not really scared,” Y/N looked down feeling guilty, “I- I just don't want to make you uncomfortable.” She said softly, making Spencer smile at her shy voice. 

“You don't make me uncomfortable Y/N.” He said, grabbing one of her hands, the other lifting her chin so she would look at him, he gave her a sad smile looking into her eyes. “I wish I had made that clear, you don't make me uncomfortable. You never ever have. What I said was a lie, that's all it was, a lie.” Y/N almost interrupted him but he moved his hand from her chin to her cheek causing her to go silent before continuing “If I could go back and take back those words, and tell myself how much of an idiot I was-” she almost interrupted him again before she put his hand jokingly on her mouth and stopped her once again “I am a genius, but I was an idiot. You’re my entire world, your hands provide me with more light than the sun ever could. And I promise, hey look at me” he said when she looked down flustered at his words, “I promise what I said was a lie.” 

He stopped to smile at her, finally feeling her relax under his hand. Spencer leaned in to slowly kiss her, to slowly show her that he meant what he was saying. 

When they broke apart Y/N felt breathless. 

“Spencer, it's not that I didn't believe you..” Y/N saw the look Spencer gave her and sighed “exactly.” she emphasized “I believed you, but I was worried that maybe you were just saying those things to make me feel better- hey” she said when Spencer tried to interrupt her. “You got to speak now it's my turn. I just I’ve never wanted to make you uncomfortable. And I was worried that you would be, if I- I don't know- like? Touched you too much? If that makes any sense..” she shook her head trying to come up with a better way to explain to him how she felt. 

And Spencer waited, holding her hands and waiting to hear exactly what she had to say. 

“I didn't want you to feel like you needed space again. And I know you say that you never actually needed space, but I just wanted to be sure. So I paid more attention and I was hesitant because I wanted to make sure you were actually okay with it- and why are you looking at me like that?!” 

Spencer smiled at her, leaning in to kiss her forehead, “You’re rambling sweetie.” he said softly, still looking at her like she was the world. 

Y/N felt trapped in his gaze, it was so strange to her that she could be crying and passing out and then completely fine a half an hour later all because of him. It was so strange that he had so much power over her emotions. It was so strange that he could look at her like that and make her feel as shiny and bright as the sun. 

It made her scared and so so excited, and she was lost for a moment.

They both stared at each other, almost like it was the first time in days. 

“Hey wait-” Y/N said suddenly knocked out of her lovesick gaze “What was wrong yesterday? You were acting strange, and that's why I was so worried in the first place.” 

Spencer sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyes, he felt ridiculous just thinking of how he felt yesterday at the bar, but he was going, to be honest with her. 

“When you were dancing with Derek and Garcia, I just- I felt uh angry?” Spencer said, sounding embarrassed, and closing his eyes as to not see her reaction. 

“Were you jealous?” Y/N asked, and Spencer opened his eyes to see her brow furrowed and confused. 

“Not exactly, I just felt angry that you weren't scared to touch them... Like you never hesitated with them. And I just was wishing you were still like that with me, and there was a lot of anger directed at my stupid-” 

Y/N stopped him with a kiss, not wanting to hear anything else about the way he felt about himself. She thought it was crazy he was angry at himself for just feeling. 

“You shouldn't be angry, and you shouldn't feel bad. You’re allowed to feel uncomfortable- you’re allowed to just feel things, Spencer.” Y/N said in a small outburst. 

“I know. It's just ridiculous that I’d ever think I felt like that. And anyway, you believe me now right?” He asked looking right at Y/N making sure whatever she replied with was truthful.

“Yes, I know I’m the sun blah blah blah-” 

Spencer stopped her by throwing her back against the couch. 

Y/N squealed as he tickled her, straddling her so she wouldn't let go. 

“You are the sun, you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen-” 

“Stop stop! That-” Y/N gasped “that tickles!” she said laughing, as Spencer continued to torture her. 

“That's kind of the point sweetheart” 

“Stop Spencer! Uncle! Uncle! I believe you- just-” she giggled squirming under him “stop!”.

They were both breathless and laughing by the time Spencer was finally done. 

Smiles were permanently stuck to their face as they looked at each other, as they finally felt like they were finished with their problem, as they finally talked. 

The way they solved their problems wasn't ideal, and they were going to have to practice and learn. But they loved each other, and that was enough to keep them both going. 

“Y/N you are the most beautiful thing ever. And now that I’ve known you, I don't think I could ever live without you. I hope to be stuck with you for the rest of my life.” 

Y/N smiled at Spencer's words, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on top of the world. 

“Well Spencer, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I know I’m gonna be stuck with you for the rest of my life…” she stopped and smiled at him teasingly “unless of course, you need space..” 

Spencer stared at her shocked for a moment, before picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, as she squealed and laughed for what felt like the 10th time today. 

“What are you doing?!?” Y/N shrieked, mock hitting him on the back. 

“Oh don't worry my dear, I’m just going to show you how much space I really need..” 

A/N: 

I: am open for requests :) 

thank you for reading. i think you’re so beautiful. take care of yourself lovie.

[random1amfics]

Demon Tyrant of France (2)

Lila had a great week. The class was wrapped around her finger and that baker's girl can't do anything about it as Adrien seemed to be keeping her in line with that promise. Poor girl was desperate to do anything for her crush. Today, she will spin some tales of how Marinette was really mean to her offer of friendship and maybe get her so call 'friends' to punish her bad behaviour by destroying the girl's phone for her awful texts. As she skipped to the school, she didn't notice the tense air the other students seemed to have. She saw Alya, her ticket to increasing her fame, arguing with her boyfriend, Nino. He could be useful when she needs music for a party.

"I don't care if this Demon Tyrant person is powerful. We don't need another Chloe Bourgeois in our class. I am not going to stand for her tormenting us."

"Babe, listen, the Demon Tyrant will mostly ignore us because according to her, we are just mere insects. As long as we don't provoke her or anger her, we will be fine. The only thing I am worried about is whether or not you would get into trouble, you did some bad things to her recently and I really hope she is feeling generous."

"I couldn't have done things to someone I have never heard of until today."

"Oh, she had been in our class for the past 2 years. Apparently, she and a friend of hers had a bet on who can be kind for the longest. The bet was over last night. Chloe sent us about it last night."

"I never read what Miss Bully says."

"Excuse me," Lila cuts in, "What are you talking about? Who is the Demon Tyrant? She sounds bad."

"I will tell you on the way. Classes are about to start. But whatever you do, under any circumstances, do not, I mean, absolutely DO NOT talk to her unless she permits it."

The more Lila hears about the Demon Tyrant, the more she begins to envy the power she has over the school. Lila wondered which of her classmates was the Demon Tyrant. Could be Chloe but she can't be it, she had not been nice to their classmates at all. The one with the Roller Skates? She seemed to fit the Demon Tyrant name with the pink hair and roller skates but sometimes she didn't act nice. The Pink Blondie? She acts so nice and sickeningly sweet that she wouldn't be surprised if it was a facade.

She walked into the classroom, as confidently as she can to impress the so-called Demon Tyrant. Whoever she is, might want connections to spread her sphere of influence and they can rule together.

Lila and Alya saw Marinette with a complete makeover wearing a golden 'crown' that looked legit, looking down on the class like they were peasants from her high seat in the back. Their mouths hung open as Kim and a few others came, bearing offerings which they presented to her.

Lila gritted her teeth. Of course, that goody-two-shoes were the Demon Tyrant who ruled the school. At least now it will be easier to take all her friends away. She plastered a concerned face.

"Marinette, what are you doing? Demanding things from your friends? Friends shouldn’t expect things from their friends like that, especially something as expensive as that crown.” “First of all, Rossi, don’t call me by my name, I only allow certain people to call me that and you are not on that small list. Second of all, I didn’t ask for anything from them. They are called gifts. It was rather hypothetical of you to tell me not to expect free stuff from ‘friends’ when just last week, you basically demanded free pastries from the bakery. And lastly, this diadem ”-she gestured towards it-“is actually mine. I paid for it full price with my hard-earned money. I have a receipt if you don’t believe me. Since you are still new, I shall let it pass this time. But you will not speak to me unless necessary or with my permission.” Marinette said with a cold, icy voice.

“I can’t believe you are so mean to me. I just want to be friends and I am so worried about you when you are dressed like that.” Lila faked a few tears to sell the act. It’s perfect. She didn’t have to try so hard now that Marinette is doing a nice job by herself.

“I believe I have told you not to speak to me. Another word to me and I will make you deeply regret it.”

Alya spoke up, not liking Marinette’s new attitude, “Girl, Lila was just looking out for you. Don’t brush off her concerns and stop being so mean. I will admit I am worried about this new look too.”

“Cesaire, I will give you the same warning as Rossi there. You aren’t allowed to speak to me unless I say otherwise. Why should I change based on some people’s opinion of me? I am not mean, I am indifferent and cold to people. Haven’t you heard I am the Demon Tyrant? It’s part of the package. Life isn’t a fairytale and they all live happily ever after. Lila should be used to hearing cold, hurtful truths. After all, the famous deal with them all the time.” Marinette said with a bored expression on her face, already deeming this a waste of her breath.

Lila burst into tears and Alya was the only one to comfort her as the others were frozen in their seats and made no moves. Terrified for the backlash of helping the 2 girls. Even Nino, who loved Alya very much but prayed to every deity he knew to grant his headstrong, stubborn, justice-seeking girlfriend some common sense. She was playing with fire now and she was going to get burned badly.

Lila sobbed loudly, ”But I am not lying.”

“Marinette! Stop this at once. You can drop the act now. I don't know what you are trying to prove. Being a better Chloe? And we are best friends, we don’t need permission to speak to each other. Lila doesn’t lie. How could you say those things? Just because you are jealous, doesn’t mean you should do it. She is very sensitive.”

The Demon Tyrant grinned. It instinctively made everyone move away from her and Alya, who took a step back.

“Oh. Alya. Alya. Alya.” The first name means that the reporter had poked the Demon too much and now, she was annoyed. The Tyrant walked down, towards the two girls.

“You poor naive girl. With your strong sense of Justice and morals. I thought that we could have actually been friends. But you chose the wrong side when the time came. You should have listened to your boyfriend’s warnings when you had a chance. Let’s hope this one will get through to you. When I started this year of college, I had put up the perfect act of a sweet, kind and selfless girl all for a bet. You saw Chloe bullying that girl whom you protected and befriended. I remember many of our classmates pulled you aside to warn you of my true nature to spare you the heartache when the time came. I also told you one myself. That girl back then was not me at all and I tried to ease you into understanding that. But you were too excitable. You immediately put yourself into the category of ‘my best friend’ even though that title already belongs to my dear thief. You saw the various pictures of Gabriel’s design with Adrien as the model on my wall and decided that I have to get together with him when my heart had already been stolen by another. (Chloe fist-bumped the air. It was confirmed that her ship had sailed.) When Lila Rossi came with her grand stories, you chose to believe her over me. I will usually not admit something like this because I am too proud but it hurt when you went to her instead of me. The point is that you never stopped and listened, just going on ahead. Because if you did, you would have known that I was never your best friend. That I was never jealous of Lila over Adrien because I don’t even like him. That Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn’t even my real name and she doesn’t exist. And the lying. I haven’t accused her of anything like that. I am just calling her out for assuming the worst of me.”

The Demon Tyrant’s voice was like snow. Soft and melted easily. And so very very Cold. So much of it will knock one’s breath out. The room felt colder after the speech.

Alya stood as still as an ice statue, face-to-face with the Demon Tyrant. Her eyes averted as the blue eyes were so piercing like it could tear her soul to pieces. Lila had stopped her fake crying, thinking about who exactly had she declared an enemy of. She didn’t know if she wanted an answer or not.

“Cesaire, Rossi, I have many connections before I was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have even more now. With a word from me and your careers will be destroyed before they even take off. If you have common sense, you will stay out of my way.”

“Is that a threat?” Lila asked.

The Tyrant lets out a laugh and meets their eyes, “No. It’s a promise.” She turned around and walked back to her seat like a regal Empress after giving out an execution order.

[aderiex]

Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Jealousy)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral, coarse language.

Summary: The team goes to DC for a case but Hotch can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. After an incident at a bar, he gets jealous and realizes he wants you. 

Everyone all sat on the plane to D.C. They were working a case of younger women abducted from clubs and bars. The Unsub was torturing and killing his victims. Washington PD said the abductions go back a few weeks, 8 bodies had just showed up, half buried in the ground. You sat next to Dr. Reid like you normally do; you two had become close when you had first joined the Bureau and you have become inseparable ever since. He was sitting with the file propped open in his lap and you were leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the crime scene photos. “So, we have 8 dead women in 3 weeks. The coroner said they had all been dead about a week when they found the bodies.” JJ explained, “So he was keeping them for a while.” Morgan concluded.  Emily sighed and looked over to you, it was hard for the women to do cases like this knowing the victimology, they were within the killer’s preference. Reid put a supportive hand on your back and offered you a warm smile, you smiled back and tuned in to what Hotch was saying. He was talking about what our next moves were when you landed. “JJ and Reid, I need you in the precinct, looking over all the evidence, get our team somewhere to set up. Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi will interview the families of the victims.” You watched his hesitated eyes looking around the plane when they finally met yours, his gaze softened a bit. “Me and y/n are going to go have a look at the crime scene.” He finished. Everyone agreed and the pilot’s voice came over the speakers, telling the team they were coming in for landing.

As soon as you were on the ground, you were being transported into SUV’s and on your separate paths to do the assigned jobs. It was just you and Hotch in the car, he was driving, and you rode shotgun, with a map splayed out on your lap with all the last known locations of the girls and then the dumpsite. Hotch tried to make some small talk, but it was mostly silent for the duration of the car ride. You pulled up to the dumpsite to see state police around, police tape up to keep civilians out. You put on your rubber gloves, and stepped out of the car, joining up on Hotch’s side as you both approached the scene. The state police chief came up to you and shook both of your hands, introducing himself. He explained basic knowledge of the crimes, which you had already read about, but still listened intently to his words. You and Hotch walked over and inspected the dead bodes. Him checking their pockets and looking at how they were placed, you still looking through the files, trying to identify each girl.

After a few hours spent at the crime scene, you and Hotch decided to rejoin the rest of the team back at the precinct. The drive back less quiet, mostly just filled with work discussion and quick phone calls to Reid and Garcia, but still something. Back at the precinct, Reid and JJ had all the crime scene photos laid out on the big conference table, along with all the evidence. You and Hotch joined them at the table, Reid joining up on your side. Looking down, at the file in your hands and matching it with the last known location of the girls. “They were all last seen at a bar or club…” Morgan mused, “Hey babygirl,” He said, getting on the phone with Garcia. “I need a list of all the bars and clubs that are in a 10-mile radius of the dump site.” Garcia chuckled, “Already on it big boy, I’m sending them over to you right now.” The list popped up, about 7 bars and clubs. “2 of them closed due to renovations and aren’t due to open for the next month.” Garcia added, “Ok so that makes 5. We should split up and hit the bars tonight. Morgan, you take the one uptown on 5th. Reid, I want you and Prentiss in the one on Main. Rossi and JJ will take the one on the far side of town. Me and y/n will take the one on 22nd.” Hotch gave everyone roles, “That leaves one, the one on 33rd.” JJ brought up, Hotch nodded and turned to the state police chief, “I want you and a partner there tonight.” Hotch said, in a serious tone. The man nodded and everyone went to get changed into more casual clothing, as to not seem too suspicious to the unsub. You all were told to tuck your guns behind your waistband, and you kept your badge and cuffs on a belt loop you kept hidden underneath your shirt.

You and Hotch headed for the bar, this was the one time he wasn’t dressed formally, he wore a simple grey button up and jeans, he looked good. You both sat in the car, driving in the dark, the quiet was comforting. Hotch looked over to you multiple times during the drive, just quick glances, not long enough for you to make eye contact with him. You pulled up to the bar, it looked busy, the parking lot was full and there was a steady stream of people going in and out. Hotch looked over to you and sent you a small nod as you both got out of the car and walked in together. It was even busier inside, people were packed in, standing almost shoulder to shoulder. You and Hotch headed immediately to the bar, you found two open spots and sat down, the bartender walked up to you guys. “Busy night?” Hotch asked, the bartender nodded, exasperatedly. “It’s like this almost every night. Popular spot.” He laughed out, “So you probably don’t remember many of the people that come through here?” you asked, the bartender thought about it for a second, “Not really, unless its one of my regulars or they are quite memorable.” He shrugged. You pulled a picture out of your pocket of the girls, “Do any of these girls look familiar?” You asked, the bartender inspected the photos, he shook his head, “Sorry, like I said we have a lot of people that come through here.” You nodded, “What about a man? He would have been quite reserved, sat near the back, didn’t talk to anyone, seemed to just watch?” Hotch cut in, the bartender paused, “Yeah I think I know who you’re talking about, he comes here sometimes, orders a beer and sits in the back. He leaves pretty discreetly.” The man said, “Is he here tonight?” You asked, the man looked around, “Not yet, he normally shows up later in the night.” You nodded and turned to Hotch, “Guess we play the waiting game.” He said.

You and Hotch sat at a table in the back, just talking. Hotch had ordered a beer, as to blend in, you were taking sips of a virgin drink the bartender had recommended. A man approached your table and sat next to you without warning, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Hey pretty lady.” He slurred, intoxicated. You forced a smile and looked to Hotch, who was sending the man a death stare. “Are you single?” he asked, paying no attention to Hotch. He didn’t even let you answer, “Let’s get out of here babe. I’ll show you a great time.” He shot you a dirty smile. You were getting visibly uncomfortable, “Get off of her.” Hotch spoke up, you both looked over to him and he was getting serious. “Hey man calm down, I’m just picking up your leftovers.” He snickered, Hotch was up in a second, grabbing the intoxicated man by his collar and pulling him out of the booth. “I wasn’t asking.” He practically spat at the man. The fear in the man’s eyes was prominent as Hotch let him go and he drunkenly stumbled away from our table. “Thank you.” You spoke up, giving Hotch a warm smile. Hotch returned the smile which made your face heat up and you averted your eyes.

The night was long but by the time the bar had closed, there was no sign of this man. You and Hotch packed up and left the bar, getting into his SUV and heading for the hotel. The drive home felt different, the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. You couldn’t help but steal glances over to him. You pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and Hotch helped you out of the car, “About what happened back there...” He trailed off, you smiled “Hey, don’t worry about it. I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You smiled, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. You felt the heat rush to his face under your hand. You stayed there for a moment, staring into his eyes, watching them try to read you. His brow furrowed, his eyes scanning your face. You pulled away, breaking the trance “We should probably go… go to bed.” You laughed nervously, he said nothing but a brief nod and you both headed into the hotel. Checking into your respective rooms.

It was the next day, you and Hotch were both extremely tired and showed up to the precinct late because of the late closing time of the bar. Everyone watched you two walk in, JJ raised her eyebrows suggestively and you blushed slightly but shook your head, “It’s not what it looks like, the bar was open until 1am.” You said, yawning.

The day was very long, but you eventually caught up with the killer, he had made a mistake in covering his tracks and you had been able to find his tab at the bar. Garcia had tracked his card and given you all an address. The whole team pulled up to the man’s house, you hopped out of the SUV gun in hand, approaching the house with the rest of the team. Morgan kicked down the door and everyone surged into the house.

The next events went by in almost slow motion, you turned a corner, the first thing you heard was the shot. You didn’t know where it had come from until you felt a breathtaking force on your vest, knocking you back into the wall, Morgan was right behind you, putting a bullet through the man’s shoulder. You stumbled back and slid down the wall, clawing at your vest, trying to get it off. Hotch ran in and dropped to his knees in front of you, “Y/n! Y/n can you hear me?” He cried out, your ears were ringing but you nodded, and reached out to grab his hand. He practically tore your vest off, looking for any signs of bleeding, but the vest had done its job. He helped you up, his arm around your waist as you caught your breath before guiding you out of the house. Morgan was shoving the unsub into the cop car, as Hotch helped you to the SUV. “I’ll take y/n back to the hotel for some rest. I need you guys to go back and pack up things at the precinct.” Hotch said, everyone nodded.

You were breathing shallowly in the passenger seat as Hotch drove you both back to the hotel. He wouldn’t even let you walk in by yourself, instead he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you through the hotel to your room. He walked you over to your bed and gently laid you down, sitting down on the bed beside you. You drifted peacefully, grabbing out for his hand as you slept.

When you woke up Hotch was still there, holding your hand. He had laid down and was sleeping peacefully. You checked the clock; it was around 3 in the morning. You shifted slightly and you heard his wake up, stretching his arms above his head. “Y/n how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up. You smiled “I’m feeling better, good as new.” He stood up and you stood with him. As you came to your feet, he was a lot closer than you had expected. You were centimeters apart. You felt his breath on your face, making you shiver. His eyes were scanning you again, looking for some kind of clue as to what you were thinking. “I was worried about you…” He said quietly. You smiled and reached up for his face again, he grabbed your hand and spun you around, walking you back into the wall. Your back was against the wall, he was pressing his body against you, keeping you still. Fear flashed through his eyes as he started to step away. “I-I’m so sorry-” you cut him off, pulling him back in by the collar and pressing your lips to his. He kissed back immediately. His lips were so soft, felt so right on yours. His hands immediately found your hips, pulling you even closer as your hands played with the hair on the back of his neck. He pulled away, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He admitted, “That guy at the bar…” he paused, you kissed him again to shut him up. “I know” You mumbled against his lips. His kisses got hungrier, his hands going over your body, as if he were memorizing all the curves of your hips. He squeezed at your waist, making you moan quietly. That drove him crazy, his grip immediately tightened, kissing you harder. You reached your hand down and rubbed him through his pants, causing him to groan against your lips. You smirked and felt him almost come undone in front of you. Your shirt was the first to go, he took your breast in his hand making you throw your head back in pleasure, giving him access to kiss at your neck. Biting and sucking at your neck leaving bright red and purple marks, you moaned lightly, your hands tangling in his hair. One hand going to your waistband, the other coming up to grab your throat. He scanned your eyes, making sure it was okay. You gave him a confirming look, he squeezed your throat and whispered in your ear. “That was dangerous y/n.” He said before pushing his fingers past your waistband, making you gasp. “Going in there alone like that?” he was still whispering in your ear as his finger circled your clit, making your grab his biceps. Moaning quietly, “You could have gotten hurt.” He growled, continuing with his fingers. You whimpered, not able to form any eligible words.

You were getting closer to your release, Hotch knew it too and pulled away. Leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling his own shirt over his head. He was toned, strong, you couldn’t help but stare. Seeing him in this vulnerable state, this way, you forever wanted this image of him in your mind. He smiled at you and pulled you back in, “You should have stayed with me.” He said, his voice deep in your ear, making you shiver. His hand going right back into your pants, circling your entrance before pushing a finger inside of you. Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth as if to let out a moan. “Ah ah. Quiet now.” He growled, you whimpered quietly but nodded. He went back to his fingers, slowly pushing one in and out, watching your face twist with pleasure. Soon you felt him add another one, he curled them inside of you and you felt the tip of his finger graze your pleasure point. You moaned out, he smiled, knowing he had found it and kept going, hitting it with every pump. You dropped your head to rest on his shoulder and bit down on your lip to try and stay quiet. “So wet for me already?” He groaned out, you nodded as best you could while trying to hold in the moans of pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed you up by your thighs, carrying you over to the bed, placing you down lightly and starting to unbutton your pants. He pulled them off your legs with ease, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear, his pants were next. He crawled on top of you in his boxers, you felt his bulge through his boxers rub against you, causing you to moan lightly in his ear. “Fuck Aaron.”

He started kissing down your stomach, all the way down to your thighs, you felt his breath on your inner thighs, causing you to arch you back. He circled your clit through your underwear, making you shudder. He pushed your underwear to the side and licked a flat line up your entrance. You couldn’t keep the moan in that time, it wasn’t that loud, but he heard it. Making him lick you again. You grabbed his hair as he went down on you, you threw your head back as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. While he was still licking you, he stuck a finger in again. You tightened your grip on his hair and he kept going harder. You couldn’t keep the moans in anymore, grinding down on his fingers, chasing your release. “Not yet y/n.” He whispered. Pulling away. Before he could do anything else you flipped him over, so he was on his back. You trailed down his body, teasing your fingers around his waistband before pulling down his boxers. His member coming up and hitting against his stomach. He groaned at the sudden stimulation, you look his entire length in your mouth making him gasp and throw his head back on the pillow. You bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, making him groan and grab your hair. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat as you went, amazing moans escaping his lips.

Before he finished, he pulled your hair, letting his member fall out of your mouth. “On your back.” He growled, you obliged and laid down on the bed, you watched him slip your underwear off your legs and throw it behind him as you unhooked your bra and tossed it onto the floor. He leaned down, kissing you and his hands pleasuring you again before you felt his tip slowly push into you. Your nails dug into his skin as you winced. He stopped and looked down at you, you nodded and reached down to push his member farther into you. He groaned and hung his head in pleasure as he bottomed out in you, you moaned as his member hit your pleasure spot. He moved slowly, small thrusts until he was able to slide in and out easily. He held your leg up above his shoulder and continued to thrust. You felt the friction and pain dissipate as it was replaced with pleasure. His groans in your ear, turning you on even more. Your moans were heard all around the room. He leaned it, still going, “You feel so good.” He groaned, you whimpered and ran your nails up and down his back, leaving bright red scratch marks. He moaned at the feeling of this and went harder. He put one hand around your throat and used the other to pin your hands above your head. He was hitting your pleasure spot with every thrust, making you almost scream. You were getting close and Hotch was too, “I-I’m going to-” you didn’t even finish before you released on him, moaning loudly. He was groaning with the feeling of it before pulling out and finishing over your stomach, gasping as he rode out his release.

Later that day, you and Hotch sat on the plane back to Quantico, Reid and Emily were playing chess together. No one knows why she still tries, Reid has yet to lose since Gideon. JJ was finishing her report and Rossi was laying asleep. Hotch sat across form you, his professional face back on, looking over to you and shooting you a smile every once in a while. The flight back is always shorter than the flight out, Reid explained why is physically was, but it felt faster mentally too. As soon as the team landed, there were SUVs outside waiting to take you back to the bullpen. You, Hotch and Reid all sat in one SUV, Reid was forced into the back. The drive was silent other than Reid spouting random facts, you found yourself staring at Hotch while he drove for long periods of time before he would meet your gaze and break you out of the trance.

Everyone was sitting at their respective desks, filling out all the reports quietly. Hotch stepped out of his office, “Y/n. My office.” He said, a shiver went down your spine and you stood. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you walked up the steps and into Hotch’s office. As soon as you got into the office, you closed the door behind you, he closed the blinds and turns towards you “Lock it.” He said, your heart rate picked up and you nodded before turning around and locking the door behind you. You turned around and Hotch was immediately in front of you, grabbing your waist and pinning you against the door. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He growled in your ear; your knees quivered. He didn’t waste time kissing you, pulling you closer to his body. Holding you up. You immediately reached down to rub him through his pants, but he stopped you “We’re going to have to be quiet.” He murmured. You nodded and he let our wrist go, letting you slip your hand into his pants and slowly stroke him, making him throw his head back and breathe heavily. “Desk, now.” He demanded, you giggled and sat on the edge of his desk. He walked over to you, taking off his blazer and undoing his tie. He came right up and stood between your legs, craning his head down to kiss you, stroking your hair and one hand on your thigh. He pushed you back lightly, letting you come to rest on your elbows, he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down enough to pull his hard member out. You bit your lip as he slid into you, his face showing pure pleasure as you contracted and moved around his member. He started slow, until the pain was gone again, the thrusts become easier, and he started going harder. You threw your head back, biting your lip hard as you avoid moaning. “Shhh, good girl.” Hotch praised you, that caused a slight whimper, but it wasn’t too loud. He gave you a warning glance and you nodded desperately. He grabbed his tie and shoved the fabric in your mouth. “Quiet babygirl.” He cooed. You bit down on the tie and let it muffle your moans.

He was getting close; you were coming up on your release as well. You sat up and grabbed his collar, “Cum in me.” You whimpered in his ear. He gave you a confirming look and you nodded. He nodded and as you released on his member, he let himself finish inside of you. You felt his hot release fill you up and you threw your head back. “F-Fuck.” You moaned out. He held you there as you both rode out your orgasm. As he stood back up, putting his clothes back on, kissing your forehead. You felt his warm release running down your leg as you stood, your legs shaking. He gave you his spare shirt to clean up with, “Clean yourself up love.” He said softly. You smiled and he pulled you in for a handful of light kisses. On your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead.

You walked out of the office, slightly stumbling down the stairs and sitting back down, across from Spencer. “What did he want?” He asked you. “Just a second opinion.” You answered, going back to your work as if nothing had happened. Spencer didn’t question it. But Morgan saw the messed-up hair and swollen lips. But he didn’t say any    thing.

Word count: 4k

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!! 

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure. 

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

[spencerlouis]

Aw I loved your Ravlez fic, part 2?

Got two requests for this

Request 2: I would like everyone's reaction to his weight

Thank you so much for the positive response to my chubby Spencer fic I was worried about how it would be received. But I’m so glad you guys like it.

Part 1

Warning - Some body shaming

Spencer finished buttoning up his new blue shirt and slipped on his brown sweater vest. He sighed as he looked in the mirror, placing a hand on his stomach. He turned to the side to examine himself, biting his lip as he saw how much his tummy stuck out. 

“Spence,” Luke said as he entered the room, he smiled when he saw his beautiful boyfriend, “Wow, you look great.” 

Spencer blushed as he continued to examine himself in the mirror, “are you sure? I mean, I look pretty heavy. Maybe I should wear something that covers it up a bit more” he said, gesturing to his stomach.

Luke sighed, wishing Spencer wasn’t so self-conscious, “you look stunning. And remember what we talked about, working on helping you feel confident with your body and weight?” 

Spencer nodded, Luke had been helping him learn to be okay with his weight. Encouraging him to wear certain clothes because he liked them and not because they hid his body. “I know, I know. It’s just…” Spencer hesitated as he lowered his eyes, “Morgan and Hotch are going to be there and I haven’t seen them since I was skinny. And Rossi has a pool, so we're going to go swimming.”

“So?” Luke questioned, placing his hands on Spencer’s stomach. 

“Because even if I wear a swim shirt, it will cling to my body. Everyone will see how chubby I’ve gotten,” Spencer huffed, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. 

“Spencer,” Luke said as he turned him around to look at him, “what have I told you? There is nothing wrong with being chubby. Your body is perfect.” 

“If you say so,” Spencer relented, giving his tummy one last jiggle, “let’s go.”

~

Spencer nervously walked out to Rossi’s backyard, he awkwardly stood beside one of the tables as Luke went to chat with Matt. On the table were some muffins, which he assumed Garcia had brought. Everyone seemed to be enjoying them, so he grabbed one as well. He took a bite and an absolutely delicious taste of red velvet filled his mouth. All of a sudden he felt himself being pulled into a hug. 

“I’ve missed you, pretty boy,” Morgan greeted him as he pulled away. He studied Spencer’s larger body with surprise on his face, “Wow, looks like someone’s been eating well.” Spencer blushed at the comment and avoided Morgan’s eyes, sucking in his stomach. Morgan’s eyes then landed on the muffin and he chuckled, “If you keep eating like that, I won’t be able to call you pretty boy for much longer.” 

Hurt pierced through Spencer’s heart as Morgan walked away. Was that true? Would Morgan stop calling him a pretty boy if he gained more weight? Spencer blinked back tears at the thought, Morgan had called him pretty boy for almost the entire time he had known him. Spencer glanced down at the half eaten muffin in his hand and quickly threw it away, knowing he didn’t need the extra food. 

When everyone was starting to get ready to go in the pool, Spencer began getting anxious. He wanted to go swimming but he was worried about what his body would look like. He had brought a swim shirt but it clung to his tummy. 

“Come on baby, let’s go get changed,” Luke whispered to him and led him to one of the changing stalls Rossi had. Spencer looked in the mirror after he was changed, hating the way the swim shirt highlighted every curve. He turned around and saw Luke had also finished changing and he enviously eyes his toned chest and abs. 

Luke caught him looking and knowing what he was thinking, gave him a kiss, “You’re beautiful,” he murmured before giving him one more kiss on the cheek. Spencer followed Luke onto the pool deck, all flustered. He bit his lip and self-consciously crossed his arms over his stomach, glancing around at everyone else. Hotch, Matt, Morgan, and Tara were throwing a ball around in the pool, Luke walking over to join them. Emily and JJ were sitting on top of floaties and chatting, and Rossi was laying in a lawn chair, eyes closed as he relaxed. 

Spencer nervously started walking towards the pool, when he caught sight of Garcia exiting a changing stall and confidently making her way to the pool, she was wearing a pink, glittery bikini and she looked amazing. Spencer wished he could be that confident in his body. Garcia jumped in the pool and swam over to where JJ, and Emily were. When she reached the floaties she spotted Spencer, hesitantly making his way over to the pool.

“Hey, Spence!” she called out, “come swim with us!” Spencer awkwardly smiled, but jumped in and swam over, joining into the conversation and putting his body and weight out of his mind. 

As the sun began to set, Spencer hopped out of the pool with Garcia and they each went their separate ways to grab their towels. Spencer reached the chair his towel was on and grabbed it, wrapping it around himself when he heard talking coming from around the corner of the house. He would have just ignored it as he was going to, when he heard his name. This caused Spencer to creep over to hear what they were saying. It was Emily and Hotch who were talking. 

“He’s definitely gained weight,” he heard Hotch say.

“Yeah…” Emily responded, “he even needed me to get him a bigger FBI vest. I didn’t want to say anything because of how stressed he’s been since prison.”

Spencer felt tears of embarrassment prick his eyes and he quickly scurried away to find Luke and ask if they could go home. He didn’t think he could take any more humiliation. 

When they arrived home Spencer hurriedly changed into a loose pair of pyjamas and hid himself under the blankets on their bed. Luke came into the room from brushing his teeth and let out a small laugh as he saw Spencer all wrapped up under the blankets.

“What’s all this about?” he questioned, laying down and getting under the blankets as well. Spencer simply shrugged in response. Luke went to pull Spencer close to him but immediately began to worry when he flinched away.

“Baby?” Luke worried, “Is something wrong?” Spencer shook his head. 

“Then why aren’t you cuddling me?” he asked, his hands gliding over Spencer’s side. Spencer mumbled something Luke couldn't hear. 

“What was that?

“I’m too big,” Spencer mumbled a bit louder this time. 

Luke’s eyes widened, “you are not!” he exclaimed as he pulled Spencer towards him and partially on top of him. 

“Luke! What are you doing? I- I’ll crush you,” Spencer frantically stammered out.

Luke chuckled, “you are not that big, and believe me I’m strong enough to hold you,” he assured him. 

Spencer started to relax but was still upset, “but what if I gain more weight?” Spencer worried, insecurity written on his face. 

“Then you do,” Luke shrugged, “I’ll still love you, and you’ll still be absolutely stunning.”

“But Morgan said-” Spencer began but cut himself off. 

“Morgan said what?” 

“He said if I keep gaining weight he won’t be able to call me pretty boy anymore,” Spencer whispered, tracing a scar on Luke’s arm as he did so. 

Luke sighed, “Morgan was most likely just joking. Now that doesn’t make it okay, I can talk to him about it if you want?” 

“No Don’t!” Spencer begged, it would be humiliating for Luke to talk to Morgan about this. 

“Okay I won’t,” Luke told him, “but will you tell me if someone says something that makes you feel bad?”

Spencer nodded, “I will.” 

“Good,” Luke smiled, before running his hand down Spencer’s chest and stomach, “now, let’s cuddle, so I can feel your wonderful body,” he said as he pulled Spencer’s shirt off. Spencer blushed as Luke pulled him close and his plush stomach poked against Luke’s abs. 

“You’re perfect,” Luke whispered into his ear before giving him a kiss. Spencer smiled into the kiss and didn’t even flinch away when Luke began rubbing his soft sides and tummy.

If anyone wants to send me chubby Louis Tomlinson or chubby Spencer Reid concepts or ideas you can. The only thing I don’t want is anything with full on s3x and outright f33derism. Any ship is fine as well.

Also feel free to ask me questions as long as they are respectful