#bau headcanon

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

Paget and AJ are pretty much the same height, but Emily and JJ? Emily is a foot taller than her, and I don’t care what you or ‘reality’ has to say about it.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

THE BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS UNIT (criminal minds)

—

What some of The BAU Members Would Smell Like

scent Headcanons

CHARACTERS: DEREK, PENELOPE, JORDAN, TARA, MATT, REID

SFW, canon typical content — no reader-insert

Pic Sources: criminal minds

• These headcanons are for when they aren’t in the field because being identifiable by scent when you’re trying to sneak up on an unsub is a bad thing and none of these guys (except for maybe JJ and Jordan when they first transition from liaison to field agent) would sabotage themselves like that.

—

DEREK MORGAN

Smells like expensive ass cologne, okay? He invested in smelling right, partly because of his father impressing upon him the importance of smelling “respectable” and nice and partly because he wanted to feel himself and attract more women.

The cologne isn’t too strong (won’t burn anyone’s noses or anything because it’s not basically just scented alcohol) but it is aromatic and it does linger whenever he leaves a room.

Everybody always finds themselves subconsciously breathing it in a little extra when he’s around, and Penelope comments on his “good smelling cologne” every time she smells him wearing it and will just straight up smell him while Derek laughs and plays along by opening himself up to be smelled; Emily also definitely teases him about her having been able to smell him coming before Penelope cuts in like: “and every second was glorious.”

I think his scent should have some sweetness to it, like it’s masculine or whatever but it also cuts his edge which is part of the reason he likes it so much. Like sweet almond or something, idk.

Derek’s natural scent is also grand and Savannah is in love with it about as much as she is with him in general. When he was in the hospital she would press kisses to his forehead or hairline and then just take a moment to breathe him in.

Fran used to cry from how much his and his sisters’ naturally smelled like their father.

I think it’s be cute, too, if the cologne he uses as an adult is as similar a scent as he can find to the cologne his father would wear. Like, Derek latched onto the scent of his father after his death because he missed him so much and eventually asked his mother if he could wear his father’s cologne and Fran fully let him after saving some of it for herself. The cologne won’t last forever but for the immediate future they could both at least keep him close like that.

Some of the most unprompted hugs he’d get from his sisters would be when he was wearing their father’s cologne. Desiree would tease him about thinking he was big and bad with Pop’s cologne on right after the hug, and shove at him some before they’d devolve into a match. The first time she smelled her father’s cologne on him she got so mad he had the audacity that the two fought though, only reconciling after Fran put them on “house arrest” and forced them to talk it out.

Sarah would just smile at him and remind him not to let his head get too big while he was out running the streets but (even if the first couple of times she caught scent of him she cried) she starts appreciating the association with Hank’s usual scent with her little brother even when he was pissing her off.

PENELOPE GARCIA

Smells sweet but what kind of sweet depends on her exact mood and/or the color of her outfit.

During her angsty teen/Black Queen days she smelt more like rose incense that gave her a smokey, muskier and feminine smell.

It takes her a while after she’s caught by the FBI and after her breakup with Shane for Penelope to be okay with wearing scents with rose in them at all because of the lingering negativity from her relationship and her depression at the time that she associated with the flower (and the occasional scent of black cherry too).

Even after joining the BAU she still occasionally smells like sage after particularly gory or sadistic cases that make her feel icky because she cleanses her space.

Reid figures out that’s why on his own eventually, Penelope tells JJ about it while working on a case by mentioning that she’s basically gonna have to fumigate her office after watching the videos she’d uncovered, and when she first joined the team Emily had tentatively placed an small ornate pot of culinary sage in front of Penelope as a bit of a peace offering after so frequently smelling it on her. She hadn’t realized exactly why the analyst used sage but Penelope couldn’t find it in herself to correct her and she used that sage in her teas for months afterwards.

The first time she ever burned sage after her worst case with the team at the time Derek had walked into her “bat-cave” to tell her goodbye, cracked a joke about her burning down the place before she explained her reasoning to him, and then he’d just stayed back to keep her company and walked her to her car when she was finished and packed up. From then on any time he smells sage on her or lingering in her space he makes sure to check up on her extra vigorously and softly urge her into venting and letting go before she combusts. He doesn’t always say the best thing but she appreciates him seeking her out anyway.

Penelope (similar to her glasses) doesn’t just have one singular scent. She has a good couple of perfumes that she rotates around and bases whether she’ll wear one based on the color of her outfit that she’s wearing or based on what type of vibe she’s going for with an outfit. Usually floral, bakery, fruity (especially raspberry) type scents that compliment her brightness without being too overwhelming.

Derek teases her about it once she tells him how she picks out her scents. He makes some crack about missing the scent she wore the day before and she’s like “too bad” then explains her process to him.

Luke probably picks up on how she chooses scents and pats himself heavy on the back when she reluctantly confirms his suspicions.

If Penelope wakes up late and has to rush into work, forgetting her perfume, she usually goes to Tara for some because everyone knows how potent but neutral her scent is and Penelope needs something that can go with any outfit or vibe she’s going for.

Her scent picking process is determined by stuff like: summer, winter, spring, or fall scent notes; what color is she wearing; dress or skirt? Shit like that. She’s of a particular type, yk?

She is a creature of habit when it comes to her scent routine but loves it when her romantic partners or friends ask her whether it’s a pink day or a blue day (for example) and then go pick out the corresponding perfumes for her by color.

Penelope also loves it whenever her partner smells like her. She was not expecting to get as giddy as she did when she’d catch a whiff of her perfume on someone else because it showed that they really did hang out with her often.

JORDAN TODD

*will forever stay salty about the fact that Jordan never got a shot in the title sequence even if I know why, but anyway*

She has a very mild but spicy scent. It’s like ginger and you get a waft of it every time she brushes her hair over her shoulder even though you likely hadn’t noticed the scent before then.

It’s understated because she sprayed it for herself mostly, but once other people smell it it’s definitely a scent that they start searching out even though they’re probably unaware of the origin and frustratingly can’t seem to catch a whiff of it again.

I’d imagine that people could smell the warmth and subtle product from her heat protection spray in Jordan’s hair from her blowing out her natural hair if they were close enough to her.

I think otherwise she’d use largelly scentless lotion, creams, soaps and gels just because it’s more convenient for her.

I like the scent of ginger for her because it’s sharp and peppery but also a very warm and sweet scent as well. I think that fits because of how hard it is for her to get comfortable with the team, how she rankles against feeling incompetent, but how ultimately it’s her caring so much that causes her to but heads and why she left the BAU because she couldn’t take all the constant negativity and stress.

TARA LEWIS

Doesn’t spray on perfume; absolutely uses perfume oil.

She would’ve picked up on using oils when she was a teen while moving countries and going from base to base after being stationed in a middle eastern country.

Typically smells like vanilla; not overly sweet but still notable if someone is close to her, and shea butter.

Whenever she moves her arms, brushes past someone, or stands up, her scent reignites(?) and you’re reminded of just how nice she smells.

Can usually smell the oils she uses to moisturize her natural hair, add shine to her wigs or sew-ins, and keep her scalp healthy when she has in braids as well. Coconut or argan oils most often.

Emily and Rossi probably notice when she’s wearing a scent the most; Dave commenting on the subtle scent of vanilla indicating that Tara beat him to work, and Emily would tease her about how she must’ve been feeling extra good that day.

When they were split up Rebecca would catch the faintest whiff of vanilla and brace herself, whether she’d end up running into Tara or not. When they’re good, however, Rebecca has a habit of lifting Tara's wrist up to smell then pressing a kiss just below where the oil was applied before intertwining her fingers with Tara’s. It’s a quick gesture but it makes Rebecca feel horribly giddy and Tara always looks down at her like she brought oxygen to earth so it works out.

MATTHEW “MATT” SIMMONS

Before he met Kristy he wore a stronger cologne, nothing too expensive but certainly masculine. He also saturated himself in it like crazy.

After meeting Kristy he backs off on the over spritzing and switches to a less “harsh” cologne that she thinks suits him best after she takes him out shopping for “his scent”.

She definitely had to pester him and push him towards leaving that comfort zone for a good bit before he agreed to take time out to change it.

His cologne has a citrusy undertone (like blood oranges) and then a fresh scent like Aloe Vera that carries the citrus without making the scent overwhelming. It’s light and Simmons actually likes not feeling so heavy when he’s wearing cologne. Plus Kirsty loves it and it’s not too harsh on tiny kid noses so it’s a win win all around.

Quite frankly when he doesn’t smell like oranges at home his kids are very confused.

Luke probably comments distractedly about him smelling a bit like a creamsicle the first time they hang out casually.

SPENCER REID

Smells like paper (typically book paper, but sometimes he also smells just like warm printer paper).

I think he’d wear a scent mostly when he’s either going to see his mother or has been thinking about her because she would’ve impressed upon him the importance of being a nice smelling young man. She’d emphasize lighter, flowery scents for Reid however, not at all caring about setting him up to lean into societal expectations for how men “should” smell. Diana just wanted to teach him how different flowers and their scents would positively impact his impressions on others and help him feel better in scent therapy terms.

Diana would shove sprigs of lavender in his breast pockets in order to help ground and calm him and as an adult Reid would make his own lavender oil to use whenever he felt he needed that grounding or wanted to feel more connected to his mother.

Otherwise (even when going out) he typically won’t wear a scent at all, and he’s fairly impartial towards cologne.

Mostly Reid just smells like the unscented soaps and aftershave and shampoo that he uses. A clinical scent that’s “clean” in a different way to how Jordan or even Tara smells. Sterile even, but incredibly subtle.

I could see him smelling kind of cinnamon-esq too. Warm and a bit spicy just feels right for Spencer. Maybe he’d start leaning towards that scent later on in the show’s seasons.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! And that none of my headcanons were too out of left field!

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[hotchscoffeecup]

stuck

summary: stuck inside an elevator with your boss, aaron hotchner, isn’t what you had in mind when you left work late. perhaps, you can get your supervisor to relax just a little. SFW

tags: minor blood, stuck inside an elevator

pairing: hotch x reader

word count: 3k

a late birthday fic for muffin <3

“Alright, goodnight Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Hotch, it’s late. I’m tired. It’s hotter than hell outside. Trust me, when I tell you that all I need is some late night takeout, a shower, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.” You let out a short laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

He nods in farewell; offering a tired, albeit, tight smile before parting ways and moving toward his SUV a few spots down from your sedan. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago, but Hotch had volunteered to stay behind and help you on your case report. Your skin bristles at the thought of the last 72 hours and you feel the tension pulling each one of your muscles as you reach into your purse and feel for your keys. After a few seconds of rifling around, your brow knits together when you don’t come across the key fob.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, your shoulders slump. “Dammit.”

“Everything okay?” Hotch asks, pausing after opening his car door.

You incline your head and wave a hand through the air. “Yeah, I just left my keys on my desk.”

A car door slams and the sound of Hotch’s footsteps echo as he moves towards you. “I’ll walk with you.”

You blow out a breath and wave him off. “No, go home. It’s just going to be a few extra minutes. Go see Jack.”

“He’s with his aunt until tomorrow evening, then hopefully I’ll get to spend the entire weekend with him before duty calls.” He gestures towards the elevator. “It’s no trouble, really,” he insists.

You can’t help but feel like a nuisance, but you don’t argue any further. A humid breeze blows through the parking garage and thunder rumbles off in the distance. Hotch presses the button to summon the elevator and as the gears rumble to life both of your cells start pinging.

Hotch reaches into his pants pocket as you reach into your purse. You both check your cells where a severe thunderstorm warning flashes across the screen.

“Hotch, really, you can go.”

Hotch arches a brow, sparing you a look that says not-a-chance as the doors open. “Come on, if the weather kicks up before we get back down, I’ll drive you home.”

He stretches an arm out to hold the door and you reluctantly step inside, accepting that he’s not going to leave.

You push the button for the ninth floor and cross your arms over your chest. “My car can handle a little rain, Hotch.”

He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “With the weather they’re calling for, your car will become a boat.”

“Careful, Hotch. That was almost a joke.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t reply.

The elevator pings as you ascend higher and higher. By the time the elevator crawls past floor four the sound of rain pounding against the building echoes inside the elevator.

“Damn,” you curse quietly. “I can only imagine what 95 is going to look like with this going on.”

“I’m sure it’ll—” A loud clap of thunder explodes outside, cutting Aaron off.

You startle, gasping loudly and feeling yourself immediately flush red with embarrassment. Your eyes flicker over to Hotch and he looks calm and collected, unshaken by the burst of sound.

Suddenly, the lights go out and the elevator screeches to a halt, throwing you off balance. You stumble as the elevator rocks violently and in your heels, you’re unable to catch yourself before you fall forward and hit your head against the wall; dropping your purse and scattering its contents in the process.

Pain splits your brow and your hand flies to your forehead. Blood, sticky and wet, trickles into your eye and you wince. The emergency lights kick on as you and Hotch both collect yourselves and stand.

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks.

“I hit my head.”

“Here, let me take a look.”

His hand curls under your arm as he uses the other to tilt your chin up. His eyes are hard in the dim red light.

“I can’t tell how deep it is in this lighting.” He presses his lips together and reaches for his cell. “Dammit!”

“Let me guess,” you say. “No signal.”

He snaps his phone shut. “None, what about you?”

“My entire life is on the floor right now,” you quip, gesturing at the ground.

“Right, sorry.” His eyes scan the ground and quickly locate your phone. He scoops it up and after flipping it open, he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh.

“Well,” you reply. “Guess we better make ourselves comfortable until the generators kick in.”

You kneel down and begin sweeping your belongings toward you. Hotch crouches and helps you without asking.

“Let’s at least see what you might have that I can use to help clean it up and stop the bleeding.”

“Oh yeah, let me just reach into my Mary Poppins bag here and pull out an EMT’s jump bag.”

He aims a hard look at you that he usually reserves for whenever Penelope makes a comment that teeters the line with HR.

“I’m the one with my head split open, I think I’m allowed to be sarcastic right now.”

Hotch breathes out sharply. “Split open, that’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Two zingers in a row, Hotch. I’m impressed.” He shakes his head but even in the dim lighting, you don’t miss the smile on his lips. He picks up a couple of items and hands them to you. “Here’s your,” he pauses to examine the items in his hand. “Lipstick and tampons.”

A furious heat races to your cheeks as you snatch them out of his hand and shove them in your purse.

“Wait, give me one of those. I can use it to stop the bleeding.”

“Hotch, I’m not giving you a tampon.”

He levels you with another hard stare and when he says your name, you can hear the amusement in his voice. “It’s either that or your sweater, and I know that was a gift from JJ on your birthday. Besides, I was married for a long time. I’m not embarrassed by tampons or pads. You know I keep a supply in my desk, right?”

Your brow pinches, but a smile plays about your face. “Ok, I’ll bite,” you say as you pass him one. “Why?”

He pauses before tearing open the packaging. “You wouldn’t happen to have any hand sanitizer in there, would you?”

It takes you seconds to find the mini Purell inside your handbag and pass it to him. He squeezes some into his hands and scrubs it over his skin. “One time, Penelope dropped a file off in my office. She was in a rush and not acting like herself. I could tell she was stressed.” He tears open the plastic and pushes the cotton portion of the tampon out of the applicator. “I asked her if she was okay and boy, was that the wrong question to ask.” Hotch turns his head, looking around. “Ah, thought I saw that.” He scoops your half finished water bottle off the ground and pours a small bit of water onto the cotton to break it up. After working it into a small square, he gently presses it against the split in your brow. You wince and he apologizes. “She burst into tears and told me that her cycle had snuck up out of nowhere and she was unprepared and needed to run to the drug store. I told her not to worry and that I’d go for her. I’d forgotten to ask what exactly she wanted me to get, so I bought a little of everything. She took what she needed and I told her that I’d keep the rest in the lower left drawer of my desk in case an emergency ever arose again.”

“Hotch, that’s actually really sweet.”

He feigns a pained look, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your use of the word actually cuts pretty deep, you know?” He lifts the makeshift bandage and inspects the injury. “It’s still bleeding. I’m afraid you might need stitches.”

You blow out a breath. “Great, and what do I tell them? Hey, I fell face first into an elevator panel. Patch me up!”

Hotch chuckles and applies more pressure to the wound. You hiss and again, he apologizes.

“It’s okay,” you say and realize this is probably the closest you’ve ever been to your supervisor. In fact, from this angle you notice just how long and thick his dark lashes are; the way his coffee colored eyes glimmer in the low lighting.

Holy shit, what are you thinking? That’s your boss you’re ogling.

“It’s hot.”

You blink out of your momentary stupor. “I’m sorry, what?”

“In here,” Aaron answers.

“Well yeah, the AC is out with the power. What do you think is taking the generators so long to kick in?”

Hotch’s brow furrows as his eyes flick about the space. “I’m not sure. It’s highly unusual though.”

You shrug out of your sweater and take over holding the makeshift bandage against your forehead, your fingers brushing against his hand as you do so. Bunching your sweater into a ball, you place it behind you and lie back.

Hotch laughs awkwardly. “What are you doing?”

“It seems like we’re going to be stuck here awhile, might as well make myself comfortable.”

He pushes himself to his feet and presses the emergency call button. You’re not shocked when the only response is static. You watch as he paces, pushing the button every few minutes.

“This is where Reid would say something like ‘the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.’”

Hotch tucks his hand against his belt and pushes his suit jacket back with his other fingers. It's a gesture you’re all too familiar with, the one he uses when he’s exasperated. He swipes at the perspiration beading on his forehead with his opposite sleeve.

“So, what, we just wait?”

A smirk pulls at your lips. This shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does, especially given the fact that you have a head injury and probably need to get checked out.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re so,” you hedge, searching for the word, “high strung.”

Hotch’s brow climbs toward his hairline. “Excuse me?”

Did you hit a nerve? It was a fairly bold statement to make. Situation be damned, he was still your boss. “I don’t know, Hotch.” You release a short laugh. “You can’t really be in control all the time, can you?”

“Doesn’t this team have an agreement to not profile each other?”

You roll your eyes and prop yourself up on an elbow, wincing as pain pulses behind your eye. Hotch’s lips part as he instinctively moves toward you and you wave him off. “It’s not about profiling, Hotch, look at you. Stop trying to solve everything all the time and just say ‘hey, this shit sucks!’”

He holds your eye for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“You’re right,” he says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drops onto the floor beside you. “This shit sucks.”

You smile and he returns one. It looks good on him. It’s something he doesn’t do often enough.

“Let me check your head.” He leans forward and you let him inspect the gash in your forehead. “I think the bleeding stopped.” Placing his palm against your jaw, he tilts your head toward the red emergency lights. “Everything looks,” his eyes glimmer and drop to linger on yours. “Fine.”

Your lips part, but you don’t find words. Has Hotch ever looked at you like this? Well, that implies he's looking at you a certain type of way. You clear your throat and Hotch drops his hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

The words are out of your mouth before you can think. “Are you?”

He says your name then, barely a whisper. He’s so close, close enough for you to smell his aftershave. You feel your heart rate begin to pick up, pulse pounding in your ears. Hotch’s chin dips and his lips are a hair's breadth away from yours. Before anything can happen, the elevator’s gears suddenly grind to life. The sudden jolt of movement causes your foreheads to bump together and you groan as pain splinters behind your eye.

Hotch immediately apologizes and holds your face in his hands, making sure the minor collision didn’t reopen the wound that had barely stopped bleeding as is.

Your hand reaches up to cup his against your cheek and you meet his concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Hotch.”

He holds your gaze for a moment before dipping his head. “Okay,” he says tightly. “Okay, let’s get you up. There’s a first aid kit in the break room.” He grabs hold of your forearm and loops an arm around your waist before helping you to your feet. You stumble as you rise to your full height, your blood not yet having the chance to properly circulate through your body.

Hotch’s grip tightens around your waist and you place a steadying head against his chest; fingers splayed against the muscular plane beneath the fabric of his dress shirt.

Only when the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the 9th floor do you remember that it's your boss with his arm around you right now. You startle apart and laugh awkwardly.

“Here, let me—” His voice trails off as he drops to a crouching position and sweeps the remaining items of yours off the floor along with his jacket and your sweater.

You walk in semi-comfortable silence, letting Hotch lead the way to the break room. When you arrive, you let him pull out a chair for you and take a seat. He moves quickly, rummaging through cabinets until he locates the first aid kit. He sits opposite from you and opens the white box. After pulling on a pair of disposable gloves, he makes quick work of opening several gauze pads. He squeezes rubbing alcohol onto the gauze and apologizes in advance.

“It’s going to sting,” he cautions as he begins cleaning the area around the wound and the blood that had dripped down your cheek.

“I’m a big girl, Hotch. My dad cleaned my skinned knees when I was a kid.”

Hotch chuckles, and it rumbles low in his throat. “I certainly hope you don’t see me as your father.”

You nearly choke on your own spit and feel a furious heat blossom across your face. Hotch sees this and the smile stays plastered on his face. He presses the alcohol soaked cotton to the wound.

You hiss at the contact and dig your nails into your palms. “Fuck!” you curse, though it’s mixed with sharp laughter. “I don’t remember it stinging that much!”

Hotch laughs as he apologizes and works as quickly as he can to clean the affected area. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He finishes up and applies two butterfly bandages, which effectively close the gash. He discards the gloves and soiled gauze. After washing his hands, he uses a disinfectant wipe to sanitize the table and replaces the first aid kit in the cabinet.

“Efficient, as always.” You observe.

“I’ll have to fill out an incident report,” he says as he wipes his hands on his pants.

“Yeah, but that can wait until Monday.”

Hotch presses his lips together, not liking the sound of that.

“Oh, come on Aaron!”

His brow quirks. “Aaron? You never call me by my first name.”

You smile and gesture toward your forehead. “Head injury, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s nice,” he says, a dimple in his cheek on show as he smiles. His expression shifts immediately towards worry. “Though, you might actually have a mild concussion. We should probably get you to a doctor.”

You wave him off. “A doctor is just going to tell me to rest, take ibuprofen, don’t sleep the first night, et cetera, et cetera…Frankly, I’d rather avoid the bill.”

“There's a protocol for this…paper work, workers comp.”

You slap your hands against your thighs. “Fine!” you relent. “Let’s go!”

Hotch smiles, relief evident on his face. “I’ll grab the paperwork.” You scoop your sweater and purse into your arms as he dashes out of the break room.

As you make your way back toward the elevator, Hotch joins you. “Forgetting something?”

Your eyes widen and you feel like you could smack yourself. “My keys!”

Hotch tucks the manila envelope under his arm and fishes around in his pocket, withdrawing your key ring with a cheeky grin on his face. You quickly grab them out of his hand and shove them into your purse. “The whole reason I’m in this mess,” you grumble.

You slap the button to summon the elevator just as thunder crashes outside once more. You and Hotch exchange a look. “On second thought, why don’t we just take the stairs?”

“Good idea,” Hotch agrees.

As you descend the nine flights of stairs, you can’t help but think of the long night you’re about to be in for. When you reach the parking garage, you can smell the rain in the air. You press the button to unlock your car.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asks. “No way, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I’m going to be there all night.”

“Okay, so I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”

You freeze and Hotch does too. For a minute you just stand there holding each other’s gaze and in that moment, you both know something has fundamentally changed between the two of you. What that change is, neither of you can tell; but something in your gut tells you it’s a change for the better and you can’t wait to find out more.

[jsmainblog]

more spence headcannons!! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

a/n: uhm i love him so we gotta do more

warnings: some nsfw!!!!

spencer is one of those guys u see on tiktok doing the 'buying the number of books my girlfriend can hold' thing at barnes and noble

spencer is the biggest fan of u playing with his hair

his hair probs feels so nice despite having no hair care routine

spencer has a scrapbook just like his mom and has some photos of the both of you in it

spencer is a tits guy

u can't like not say that he is he just is 🤷‍♀️

like not just big ones he appreciates them of all sizes yk

i feel like i have said this before but brooo if ur riding him he goes freaking weak

spencer is a big fan of laying ontop of you

"spence ur crushing me" "well i can't actually crush you i'm insanely skinny so🤓☝️"

spencer is a big music nerd

like now im not talking modern music im talking old music

he's got classical, he's got jazz, he's got 70's rock, he's got 70's pop, he's got 80's pop, he's got 80's alternative, he has grunge music from the 90s, he has heavy metal, he's got numetal

like if u ask him to put a cd on he just goes over to his bookshelf and go "you mean the orignal or do you want the remastered?"

he's a late bloomer

i mean thats kinda cannon but he was going through puberty a bit later than most

like he never actually stopped growing its so freakish

ik spencer has a natural sleeper build he probs does like an hour at a gym a week maximum

spencer would probably date someone quite intellectual but also really creative like art, music, film, design, graphics yk

it kinda balances out the overly logical side of him

chronic converse wearer (same man same)

he lets u draw on his converse!!!!!!

he probs would want to live in nyc or london if he didn't have to live in DC

ex weed smoker

"well yeah how else did i survive college like 3 times?"

showers and baths with you >>>>>>>>

"ur so pretty yk that?"

MUSEUM DATESSS

u don't even need someone telling u about the history u have spencer so ur set

strangley good at every musical instrument he touches

his biggest thing is trying to understand u

inside and out he wants to get into ur head and know what ur thinking all the time

he knows he's not u but he tries

work calls when he's away for a long time

everynight he's away without miss he calls u

sometimes u guys sext or have phone sex if ur both feeling a little lonely

[gublerryswift]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Emily: ARE YOU-

Morgan: Fucking.

Emily: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Morgan: Fucking.

Emily: IDIOT!

Spencer: …What was that?

Morgan: Hotch banned Emily from swearing, so I’m helping her out.

[starch1ldz]

🜲 Spencer Reid Headcanons 🜲

Enjoys having you lay on him when you're in bed together, he likes the pressure against his skin.

Cuddles like he wants to meld soul and body with you, like he cannot possibly be close enough.

Hates crusts on his sandwiches, he'll cut them off with gentle precision because he just really doesn't like the texture or taste of them.

Clingy clingy baby, as long as he's close enough with someone on screen he doesn't mind touch. (Ie: Alex Blake, hotch, Morgan, JJ.) I think he really likes touching people as long as he knows they're safe.

Textures bother him, he has to wear specific fabrics and his bedding has to be specific fabrics or he cant touch them.

Hates being cold, bad circulation king. (This is why he's always wearing sweaters I SWEAR)

Honestly loves tv, like he's anti technology but he could seriously get sucked into a TV show for hours by accident. He may be one of the smartest men in the world but he is but a man.

Bisexual and gray-romantic. Baby is very iffy about romantic attraction which is why his love interests never last very long canonically in my head

[magewritesstories]

[ SPENCER REID ] THAT'S A YOU PROBLEM

cw. headcanons for (unit chief) spencer dealing with a gen z reader (there will be a complete fic on this once i find the time!!) tw. mentions of rape, sa, murder, etc

he's so confused all the time

this man knows practically nothing about pop-culture so he's very confused a lot of the time

on a regular basis he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose because of the unhinged things you say to UnSubs during interogation - "Sorry, man, the fact that your father was a deadbeat sounds kinda like a you problem." - "So, what? You did it for the plot?"

(he lowkey kinda loves it tho, bc it reminds him of gideon iykyk)

but aside from that he's also just perpetually confused when talking to you like what did you mean he has 'rizz'? (no one tell him)

one time you called something your 'roman empire' and he went on a 10 minute rant about the roman empire before you told him what you actually meant - he thought it was embarrising - you thought it was cute and would've let him talk abt it for a lot longer if rossi hadn't interupted

whenever the motive for a murder is religious you refuse to call god anything but she (he's giving up on trying to correct you)

the first few times you answered a statement with slay he was mildly concerned

you constantly quote movies and the team finds it very entertaining, bc what do you mean SPENCER REID doesn't know the origin of a quote - when an unsub blamed his killing spree on his absent father your response was "cool motive, still murder" and another time with "that's rough buddy" (spencer asked garcia why everyone thought that was so funny once they were back in quantico)

yes, he did listen to you rant about the kendrick v drake beef for a full 20 minutes without complaining - when penelope teased him abt it he said he was just returning the favour cause you always listen to him

he's sat beside you and watched you watch mike's mic appropriately unhinged recaps on plane rides (he was INVESTED)

the things you say "same" to concern him

that's it for now, i hope you liked it

[sabage101]

When your card declines at therapy and they make you watch season 5 Episode 9 on repeat

“ I worked the case, just like you said ”

[zvdvdlvr]

spencer reid has a soulmate :)

Head up, nose clean. You repeated the phrase as you stepped out of the elevator, excited for your new internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.

You were 23, intellectually gifted, and quiet as all get-out. Because of how used to being alone you were, you assumed that the scientific community’s ‘groundbreaking proof’ of soulmates was completely absurd.

Almost everyone found their soulmate at 20-21, going and and clubbing or just going shopping. You knew that part of the reason you didn’t know your soulmate (or even knew if you had one) was because you didn’t look at people. You watched their movements and body language, you just didn’t look strangers in the eye.

That’s how you knew that there were a group of people watching you as you walked up the stairs to your employer’s office.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked, knocking gently on the door.

The tall, dark-haired man stood up. “Sit, please.” You sat in the chair he gestured too after shaking his hand. “Yet again, I have to remind you that the things we see daily are not for weak stomached people. Our presence has been requested in Wisconsin, and we’re set to have a meeting in,” Hotch looked at his watch. “Twenty seconds. I understand that this is your first day, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are more than capable of fieldwork. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good. You have your concealed carry license?”

You stood up and nodded. “When I was 21.”

“Good. Let’s get you introduced to the rest of the team.”

You remembered Rossi from when he personally requested to meet you one-on-one. He had wanted to have a… pleasant conversation with you. You understood why he wanted to check your morals.

Emily Prentiss smiled brightly at you even though she was clearly taken aback at your presence. Derek Morgan shook your hand and gave you a smile. Penelope Garcia was a ball of energy who pulled you into a tight hug, fussing over you like an older sister. She had a gorgeous smile. Jennifer Jareau was as polite as ever, shaking your hand and greeting you politely but something in her gaze you figured she might be happy to have a fresh face with new ideas.

“Where’s Reid?” Derek asked, looking around the table.

Jennifer shrugged. “Late. We’ll fill him in on the plane. Anyway…” the gorgeous immediately started to inform of you the kidnapping and killings of five men. They were all shot and killed in their homes with no signs of forced entry.

About two minutes in the discussion, the door swung open. You assumed the man was ‘Reid’. He shrugged of his bag and didn’t look up at until Jennifer kept going.

“Any sign of robbery? Anything missing?” Derek asked right after J.J. finished. You opened your own file, seeing the pictures closer. You couldn’t see the color of blood, but you could tell that the crime scene was clean. The only blood stemmed from the bullet to the head.

“No. The families of the victims said that nothing looked out of place or missing.”

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. “There was no other physical harm besides the cause of death? That’s bizarre.”

J.J. nodded.

“Could be a woman. Women are known for their aversion to ‘trophies’ or items they take from their victims. Maybe a prostitute… not many men would open their doors to women unless, for, you know,” you explained.

Silence fell over the room and you looked down. Clearly you had said something. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“No, no, you’re right,” the late areival says, thumbing through his file. “There are no signs of rage or remorse and women are known for their emotional detachment or rage killings. All victims have a history of violence and sexual assult. This ccould very well be a woman trying to exact revenge. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner,” Reid rambles, nodding as he pieces the puzzles together. “Sorry, what did you say your name wa…” he trails off, looking you in the eye.

Your mouth falls open as the world seems to erupt in the different black and grey hues of fire. Except this time you actually see the color. Your eyes are locked on Reid’s, disbelief painted all over your face.

“Y/n,” you whisper, eyes flickering to his rich brown hair, light pink lips, saucer-wide eyes, and heaving chest.

“Hello, soulmate. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

Do you have dark headcanons about Emily?

Honestly, probably the opposite; in my head Emily is just a sassy lesbian simp with a potty mouth and a gun 💀 It’s the dimples, I think. And the big brown doe eyes which literally twinkle. I can’t take her seriously.

Look at her, he’s just a babyyyyy 😭

(And then I actually watch the show and remember she could snap my neck like a twig—the tumblr headcanon has warped my reality and there’s no going back now.)

[hotchscoffeecup]

unstuck (pt.2 to stuck)

pairing: hotch x reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff

rating: e

summary: it’s been two weeks since you and hotch were stuck in an elevator together and two weeks since he’d nearly kissed you. unable to shake him from your mind, you’re pleasantly surprised when he shows up at your house with flowers and a plan.

“Well look who decided to show up?” Derek teases as he passes by your desk.

You flash him an amused smile and plop your bag down inside your bottom drawer. “Good morning to you too, Morgan.”

“Are you still on light duty?” Reid asks from his desk, which is parallel to yours.

You nod. “I have a follow up in a week with the doctor to get cleared to go back in the field, but I haven’t had any pain or headaches in several days now.”

“And look,” Derek says, perching on the side of your desk. “You even got a little bitty battle scar.” He inclines his head towards you, where the tail of your eyebrow is now severed; a pale pink line now traversing it.

You scoff, “Battle scar, please. Let’s just tell people I got tackled by an unsub or had to break through a window or anything that isn’t me falling face first into an elevator panel in front of my boss.”

“Speaking of…” Derek trails off and subtly points toward Hotch’s office, where JJ just finished dropping off a file.

Hotch moves swiftly out of his office and knocks on Rossi’s door, summoning him. With Rossi now trailing behind him, he leans over the railing. “Conference room,” he says, and it’s an order. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on yours for a second longer than he normally would.

“What was that?” Spencer asks as you grab your mug of coffee and head towards the conference room.

“What was what?” you ask, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. Leave it to the boy genius to pick up on that which is imperceptible. Well, okay, that is your job after all, but still.

“The extended eye contact with Hotch. Are you in trouble?”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Spencer, it’s my first day back. Why would I be in trouble?”

He frowns and shrugs, though there’s a curious glint in his eye. “Not sure.”

“Spencer,” you warn, drawing out his name. His lips twitch into a smile as he quickens his pace and dips into the conference room.

Damn that boy and his big giant brain. You settle in next to him at the round table, where you can keep an eye on him and whatever subtle antics he might try to employ to dig more meaning out of things.

Penelope struts into the room, her multi-colored pigtails streaked with blue and purple bouncing as she draws to a stop in front of the wide monitor.

“Good afternoon, Crime Fighters. Boy, do we have a doozy on our hands today…”

You feel Hotch’s eyes on you as Penelope flashes images across the screen of crime scene photos from the local PD down in Raleigh, North Carolina. It takes everything you have not to look up at him from your case file and listen to what Penelope is saying.

At the end of the briefing, you gather your belongings and swiftly exit the room. Dropping the file on your desk in passing, you dash into the restroom and lean over the sink. You exhale a deep breath and swipe a hand through your hair. “What are you doing?” you whisper to your reflection. “You’re acting like a middle schooler.”

“What’s this about middle school?”

You startle at the sound of Emily’s voice. The door creaks as it shuts behind her.

“Nothing!” you answer quickly, too quickly.

One of Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arches toward her hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the wall. “Spill.”

You do, and you don’t hold back. The words tumble out of your mouth in an avalanche of detail.

Emily’s eyes widen. “Hotch?”

You nod vigorously. “Yes!”

“Hotch cupped your face in his hand?”

You groan, “With extended eye contact!”

Emily waves her hands in front of her, face scrunching. “I need a visual. Do it to me. Pretend I’m you and you’re Hotch.”

You roll your eyes and relent, approaching Emily. With eyes locked on hers, you force a concerned expression onto your face and cradle her cheek in your hand.

At that moment, the door swings open and JJ strides into the bathroom. When she sees you and Emily in this compromising position, her face is a wash of confusion.

“What is going on here?”

“Oh my God,” Emily says, mouth agape.

“Oh my God,” you whine and drop your hand from her face.

“Do you understand what I’m talking about now?”

Emily nods slowly, “Yeah.”

“Hello?” JJ says, waving her hand out in front of her. “Anyone want to clue me in here?”

Emily’s lips curve into a sly smile. “Someone has a crush on a certain Unit Chief.”

JJ’s jaw drops to her chest as your eyes sharpen to daggers. You reach forward and punch Emily in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she exclaims, laughing and rubbing her shoulder. “And vice versa!” she adds.

“No!” JJ responds, the disbelief evident in her voice. She leans her hip against the sink. “Well, what are you gonna do about it?”

You throw your hands in the air. “I don’t know! What are you supposed to do after something like that? It’s easy to get lost in the idea of it when you’re stuck in an elevator and then in a small hospital room for six hours. He took me to breakfast at 4am at this 24 hour diner and then insisted on taking me home. The whole time, no matter where we were, we just laughed and talked and none of it was about work.”

“Hotch with a sense of humor?” Emily questions. “Our Hotch?”

“Yes! And now we’re back at work and he’s all serious and stern, but I catch these subtle-not-subtle looks and now I don’t know if I’m reading into things or we’re both just too awkward and scared to acknowledge something was going on that night.”

“Not to be the stick in the mud,” JJ starts, “but do you think it could’ve been a product of being stuck together? Like maybe the forced proximity brought up feelings you might not otherwise feel for one another.”

“No, you’re definitely not a stick in the mud. I thought the exact same thing. And then I thought because I was home for two weeks that I was just ruminating on the idea of toeing that line with him and then I started to focus on the little things like that stupid dimple in his chin when he smiles and the way he remembers the little things about everyone and now I don’t know if I actually like him or just this conflated idea of him.”

Emily blows out a slow breath. “I definitely don’t think you’ve conflated anything. I think you got a glimpse of the real Hotch and that was exciting for both of you and now you’re both in uncharted waters without a map and you’re freaking out.”

You sigh, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. “What am I supposed to do?”

JJ and Emily exchange a knowing look. “Let us handle that.”

•

You heave a sigh of relief as you settle into the plush couch cushions in your living room. Your phone buzzes on the counter, but you ignore it. You can take at least five minutes to yourself before work summons you back to the office. You’d only just gotten home from work about twenty minutes ago. The clock reads 8:24PM, but you feel as though you could go to bed right now and sleep for twelve hours.

You rub the raised scar tissue at your eyebrow. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but you can’t believe how two weeks out of work has caused your stamina to dwindle. Just sitting at your desk all day has you exhausted…maybe you should take Morgan up on his offer to jog together before work, get your energy levels back up before you return to the field.

That is a call you’ll make later though. For now, your only job is to decide between Indian or Thai takeout for dinner. As you pick up the menus off of your coffee table, there’s a knock at the front door.

Brow furrowed, you stand up and make your way towards the entryway of your apartment, unsure of who it could be.

When you open the door, your lips part in surprise.

“Hotch, what are you doing here?”

He licks his lips before smiling awkwardly. “I, uh, I tried to call.”

“I left my phone on the charger. What uh, is everything okay? Is there a case?” God you hoped not. The team had only just returned from Raleigh a few hours ago.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. There’s no case. Nothing like that. I um, I brought you these.” He moves fully into the doorway, a bouquet of carnations dotted with baby’s breath in hand.

Your features relax as you take them. “Hotch, these are beautiful.”

He scrubs a hand through his hair, a crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. “Emily told me they were your favorite. I had a really interesting conversation with her and JJ on the plane.”

You stiffen, only mildly embarrassed. Oh God, what did they say?

He smiles again. “They reminded me how out of practice I am when it comes to all of this.” He waves a hand through the air.

“Oh yeah?” you press, a smile of your own playing on your lips. “And what might this be Agent Hotchner?”

He shakes his head as a melodic chuckle tumbles from his mouth. He knows you’re toying with him. “Dating. Asking people out.” His warm eyes flick up to meet yours. “Asking you out.”

“Is that what’s happening now?” you tease.

He nods, the smile never leaving his lips. “Yes, I am asking you out. I thought maybe I’d take you to dinner. We talk, not about work,” he adds pointedly. “We drink some wine, maybe share a dessert.”

“Aaron Hotchner, a dessert guy. Who would’ve thought?”

He inclines his head, amused. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You arch a brow, intrigued. Grabbing your purse off of the hook by the door, you withdraw your keys and step out onto the welcome mat, closing the door behind you and locking it. “I was wrestling with what to order for dinner tonight. I was stuck between Thai or Indian.” You turn around, your body just barely pressing against him in the small porch space. You tilt your chin up to look at him and

watch his Adam’s apple bob. You stand on your toes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving to speak in his ear. “Care to surprise me?”

As you step past him onto the sidewalk leading down to the curb, you feel one of Hotch’s wide hands wrap around your forearm. He twirls you around and pulls you up against his body. He doesn’t hesitate and presses his lips against yours, kissing you with such fervor you swear you see stars. When he pulls away you’re both breathless and your eyes are still closed. Hotch whispers in your ear, “Surprised?”

You nod, opening your eyes and looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Very.”

The corner of his lips twitch as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How long have you been wanting to do that?”

He looks up, as if the answer to the question is somewhere in the stars above. After a moment, he levels his gaze back on you. “When did we get stuck inside that elevator?”

Your lips quirk into a smile. “About two weeks, give or take.”

He nods, “I’d say about three months before that.”

Your eyes widen, brow climbing towards your hairline. “Well, damn, Hotch.”

“I’m just full of surprises, aren’t I?” He opens the car door for you and you slide in with ease. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he starts the car. His hand lingers on the gear shift, not quite ready to shift into drive. He looks at you, eyes glimmering in the street lights outside.

“If we do this, it won’t be easy.”

You lean over the center console, meeting his gaze head on. With a smile on your lips, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, no longer scared to make a move; all of your walls having crumbled the second he’d kissed you on the sidewalk. “Nothing about our lives is easy.”

“Then we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

[ddejavvu]

u know ur blurb about hotch taking reader home when she faints at work.. i was thinking about a similar scenario where reader might have the flu or something and she keeps insisting that shes fine and the whole team is protesting, and aaron wants up to her and just says 🤨 can you walk? and r is trying to show how "fine" she is so shes immediately like yeah ofc and stands up real fast and hotch just goes, "good. ur gonna walk to the garage where my car is cuz im taking u home" jsjfjnsnfkekskkf

LMFAOO SASSY HOTCH <33

--

Protesting only makes the dull ache behind your eyes worse, but you insist, "I'm fine!"

"You're dizzy," JJ sees right through you, "You're swaying on your feet, and you're leaning your thigh against the desk for support."

You step away from the desk, all of your energy now focused on standing still, and keeping upright. There's a look of defiance on your face that gets even the unflappable Penelope Garcia upset, and she lets out a huff sounding like a petulant teenager, "Hotch!"

He's usually only summoned when something urgent needs his attention, so you don't have a second to call him off before he's rushing for the door and waiting to be informed with a tight frown and a raised brow.

"She's sick," Prentiss points accusatorily at you, "And she swears she's fine, so she won't go home, but she's gonna pass out. And Reid won't go near her, he's been hiding in the kitchen for forty minutes."

"I'm not sick!" You insist, feeling like siblings quarreling in front of your parents, "I just have a little headache, that's it!"

"Can you walk?" Hotch asks, and you nod vigorously.

"Yes! Yes, I can walk just fine, thank you very much."

"Good. Walk with me to the parking garage," He feels for his keys in his pockets, shutting his office door behind him as he heads down the stairs, "I'm driving you home."

"Wait- what? No!" You stammer, shoulders slumping in defeat, "Hotch, I can do this. I'm okay."

"Ooh, he got you good," Derek jeers, reaching over his desk to grab your phone and bag off of your own, "Here you go, sickie, get some bedrest. Don't come back until Reid'll shake your hand without latex gloves on!"

"Reid doesn't shake hands," You stick your tongue out at Derek, but your childish antics are interrupted by Hotch hooking his arm around your own and tugging you towards the elevator, "This is your funeral, Morgan, bedrest means I'll be bored and bother you all day!"

"Y/L/N, you already bother me all day," He laughs, calling after you and waving smugly as Hotch pulls you through the doors of the elevator, "Now you'll just be doing it in pajamas."

[allisluv]

hihi !! i was the one who requested 5+13 with derek,, it was from the first prompt !! <33

flufftober -- day four

three little words -- d.m

pairing: derek morgan x fem!bau!reader

prompts: "is it too early to say i love you? because i do. i love you so much." "aw, i love you too. so much." and random kisses on lip/hand/ neck (i slightly changed the wording of prompt one!)

trigger warnings: being anxious, first i love yous, other than that just pure fluff :)

word count: 496

being a woman in the fbi is an accomplishment in itself, but maintaining respect from your peers proves a lot harder. it's not that the people in the bau are unfriendly-- quite the opposite, actually-- but if they found out you were dating derek morgan, you were afraid they would see you as nothing but his girlfriend.

derek wasn't fussed that you chose to keep the two of you a secret. he was a private man himself, and he knew how hard you had worked to get to a stage like this in your career. besides, it was only early days and he wanted to see where things went before announcing it to the entire team.

it's a struggle to keep your relationship quiet when all you want to do is pepper dereks stupidly handsome face with kisses whenever he so much as smiles in your direction. thankfully, you control your urges until you're nuzzled under his arm in his apartment.

you're four months into your relationship with derek when you accidentally let the cat out of the bag. after another one of his warm, home-cooked meals, you settle yourself on derek's sofa, legs curled underneath you as you flick through the tv channels.

he insisted on doing the dishes himself, and almost popped a blood vessel when you suggested otherwise. you're stubborn, but when you opened your mouth to protest, he kissed you on the forehead and that shut you up fairly quickly.

eventually, the sound of pots and pans clinking off each other fades to nothing, and derek saunters into the living room. he sits on the opposite end of the sofa and opens his arms, to which you oblige by crawling towards him and resting your head on his chest.

his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on the bare skin of your arms, and you try not to laugh. "what?" he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"that tickles," you laugh, blinking up at him through your thick lashes. derek lifts his shoulders up into a shrug, and goes back to circling your forearm. you roll your eyes, and before you can even think about the consequences of what you're about to say, the words "i love you," slip past your lips.

his fingers still. "what'd you say, honey?"

you silently curse yourself for having a big mouth. "i said i love you." well, might as well commit to it now. "is it too early to say that? 'cause i do. i love you, like, a stupid amount."

derek's chest vibrates as he laughs. "it might be too soon." your heart plummets. "but it doesn't really matter, though, because i love you too." he bends down and presses a kiss to your lips. you melt into his touch. "so," he drawls out the word. "what do you think about telling the team next?"

you chuckle. "i reckon we won't be telling them anything they don't already know, but sure thing."

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Emily: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Morgan.

Spencer, excitedly: Did he get me the stuff?

Emily: Yeah, he says he got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.

Spencer: Wow! Where’d he find 12 gallons of fake blood?

Emily: You wanted fake blood?

Spencer:

Emily: I’ll go call Morgan

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — s.r as a dad; headcanons

spencer reid x fem!reader

- for sure cries when you tell him because it’s literally all he’s ever wanted

- does soooooo much research. he’s literally a baby encyclopedia at this point

- picks out a whole box of books he intends to read to his child once they’re born

- also. he’s a girl dad. i don’t care what anybody says, argue with the wall :)!

- he’s all confident about how he’ll be prepared when you go into labor, but once you do he literally freaks out

- like.. he freezes, and suddenly his iq is 2

- and it’s probably because he’s just now processing that he’s about to be a dad

- and for sure cries the first time he holds her

- for sure takes time off from the bau for a while to be with his daughter and wife

- and possibly resigns to be a full time professor but that depends on whether this is bau!reader, singer!reader, or just regular 9-5 working person

- names her after his mom, penelope or blake in some way, and probably in her middle name

- spends sooo much time with his new baby :’( is always always holding her or watching her

- it’s just so surreal to him

- also never lets you get up if she starts crying during the night, because you spent so many nights awake from her kicking he thinks you deserve some well needed sleep

- and your house is stacked to the ceiling with gifts from the whole team for the baby

- most of them being from penelope

- speaking of who, either her or jj is for sure his child’s godmother (depends on what season this is)

- and there’s no way he would pick anybody but derek to be the godfather ! (i miss them together)

- baby’s first word is probably something like love, because spencer’s always saying it both to her and her mom

- he would raise his children so well, and to be kind to everyone

- showers his babies with so much love since he didn’t get that from his own father growing up

- in conclusion, spencer would be the best daddy :)