#bodyguard!aaron

[lefthandedhotch]

hi lin <3 last year i sent u asks about bodyguard!hotch and i’m thinking abt him again 😩 (this is not a request i just need to tell someone my thoughts hehe) but famous!reader being under the protection of the bau but u keep cheekily flirting with aaron and u briefly catch him checking u out from a distance so u wink and smirk at him. and on ur last day u flirt with him again and he surprises u cupping ur face with one hand and saying ‘maybe if we met under different circumstances’ and smirks

hiiiiiiiiiii <33

PLS! so handsome!!!!! at first you’re just flirting with him because he’s there and he’s handsome and you need something to take your mind off of the fact that you need literal fbi protection but then you start spending more time with him :( and you start to Really Really like him :( especially when you’re having a bad night because you’re really scared about what’s going on and you can’t sleep at all so you go down to make yourself some calming tea or a drink to help yourself relax and you find aaron still awake on the couch (in the worlds cutest pajamas and white tshirt that make you SWOON) reading a book and when he smiles over at you, you take your cup and go sit with him on the couch fully intent on bugging him about why he’s still awake to distract you from the fact that you are 🤭 but!!! he clocks you immediately and asks if you’re okay or if you want to talk about being scared :( and he’s just so so sweet to you and lets you hang out with him until eventually you get sleepy and he helps you back up to your room but after you get all settled in bed he goes to leave until you grab his wrist and whisper “please stay. at least until i’m asleep” and he does <3 with that worried furrow stuck right between his brow because he cares about you a lot and when you’re deep asleep and snoring (despite the fact that you were Adamant that you don’t snore 🤭) he squeezes your hand that’s still all wrapped up in his and he promises you that he’s gonna keep you safe 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[megamindsecretlair]

Sweet Escape, Part 2

Pairing: Bodyguard!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, trying out some angst, teasing, mentions of loneliness, mental health, power imbalance. Mentions of violence, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: You are on top of the world as one of the world’s most popular R&B singers. But behind the glitz and glam, you were unmoored, lonely, and aching for something you couldn’t put a name to. Terry makes you breakfast, bringing a sense of normalcy to an otherwise chaotic life. Still shaken from the shenanigans of your stalker, you enjoy the break Terry offers you. But all too soon, you’re forced to adapt to an ever-changing schedule. Your label makes you go to a club to promote your new single.

Word Count: 7,152k

AO3 Link

A/N: Idk why I keep doing this to myself, LMFAO. But ya'll see that man show out with his gold chain? Lordt help me, I love that man. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stood beside the door to your balcony staring at the brightening day. The cry last night was everything you needed to reset. Perhaps it had just been too long since the last time you did. That was okay. It was okay to cry.

You clenched your fists and felt your nails dig into your palms. It was a terrible grounding technique. But pain was good. Pain meant you were alive. And as long as you were alive, your stalker wouldn’t win. He wasn’t winning when you worked hard for this shit.

All the blood, sweat, tears, predatory producers, dickhead managers, trashy bitches with their “gossip” websites, all of it. You didn’t survive this shit to let an anonymous motherfucker get you down. 

You took a deep breath. One day, you’d be able to open the balcony and actually feel the sun on your bones. You had to agree with Terry that it was too easy for someone to take a pot shot at you. Though the stalker seemed to only want to scare you so far. Killing you would kill his fantasy, wouldn’t it? 

It was too morbid to think about on such a pretty Las Vegas day. It was nearing the end of your run here before you would travel to LA. You turned and pulled your robe tighter while walking to your bedroom door and flinging it open. 

It smelled like home. Like warm biscuits, sizzling bacon, and fresh eggs. You followed the smell to the common kitchen and peeked around the corner. Terry stood in the kitchenette in a gray tank top and matching lounge pants.

Your eyes tracked the subtle vein in his arm and followed it to where it ended in his hand gripping the pan. Terry looked up at you and smirked. “I figured after what happened we could all use a little normal,” he said. 

“This…is your normal?” You asked. You hopped onto the nearest barstool and leaned over the bartop to look at the spread. He actually did make biscuits. Fluffy ones with butter melting in the middle. You were tempted to grab one but something told you Terry didn’t play about his kitchen.

You grinned and glanced at Terry who lifted his eyes to yours. You peeked down at yourself and noticed that your girls were threatening to slip out. “I am so sorry,” you said. Though you flirted and harassed the man, you weren’t predatory about it. You truly didn’t mean to let them hang out. You fixed your robe and sat back in your seat like a proper lady.

“It’s all good. Biscuits look good, don’t they?” He asked, his lips dipping in the corners. He almost smiled. Hot damn. Terry brought his thumb to his mouth to lick it and he hummed. The sound vibrated in his chest and you couldn’t help thinking what the hell he was doing as a bodyguard. Bottle that sound and package it into a vibrator and there wouldn’t be a dry cooch in the house.

“Mhm,” you said absently. Maybe the cry hadn’t done its job. Now you were just stuffy and foggy and clearly off your damn marbles. You watched Terry as he finished with the bacon. He moved on to a bowl of eggs he had already cracked and watched his arms work as he whipped up the eggs.

“I really only know how to make scrambled eggs. An omelet if I’m feeling fancy. If you want something else –”

“No, no, this is…sweet of you. I can’t remember the last time someone actually cooked for me. It’s been mostly dining out,” you said. 

“You don’t cook when you’re home?” Terry asked. 

You had to turn away from Terry. He looked downright delicious and he was being sweet. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable by eye fucking him. 

“No, not really. There’s not usually enough time. When I have downtime, I’m usually writing a song or working out or preparing for the next tour. Gotta do something with this brain of mine,” you said. 

Terry nodded. “Shame. Nothing better than some good food cooked with love,” he said. His voice grew hoarse around the word love. Did he have an ex-wife? Did someone break his heart? There was so much you suddenly wanted to know about your bodyguard. You wanted pieces of him that no one else got. You were hungry and greedy for it. Though you had no right to be. 

“So you can’t make anything other than scrambled eggs, huh?” You asked.

Terry scooped out butter and placed it on the hot pan. It immediately sizzled and Terry’s bulging muscles worked back and forth to spread it around. He added the eggs and then turned to you. “I did say an omelet, too. Give me some credit,” he said.

“But only when you’re feeling fancy,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “You get me,” he said.

“So what makes you feel fancy?” You asked. Your eyes drifted to Terry’s every so often and it was bordering on creepy. So you hopped down from the stool and rummaged around in the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” Terry asked. 

“Setting the table,” you said. You grabbed two plates and placed it on the counter. 

“This was my gesture for you. You’re not supposed to set the table,” he said. 

“My grandma would roll in her grave if she knew I didn’t help some kind of way. You wouldn’t want to hurt poor Grammy Bean, would you?” You turned doe eyes to him and added in a cute pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 

Terry chuckled, turning back to the eggs. “I suppose I can’t hurt poor Grammy Bean,” he relented. You grinned and continued setting the bar top with plates, two cups, and forks. By the time you were done, Terry had finished up the breakfast. 

You stood behind him and handed him the plates one by one while he loaded up the eggs, bacon, and biscuits. He handed you the full plate and you set it down. “That was for you,” he said.

“Oh,” you said and giggled. “Thank you.” You rounded the edge of the bar top, suddenly feeling shy and girly. There was no reason for it. You just…fuck, how long had it been since someone did something for you just because? Not because you were paying them to do it? No hidden agenda?

Technically you were paying Terry too, but to guard you, not cook for you. It was unprompted and there was nothing you could do in return for him. There was nothing you could do to feel like you earned it. 

Terry grabbed his own plate and joined you at the bartop. He sat down and spread his legs to accommodate the long length of them. Feet planted firmly on the ground. “Don’t be too harsh on me. I know it’s not the fancy restaurant stuff you eat,” he said.

You laughed. “Don’t believe the hype, Mr. Terry. I am a southern girl at heart. This is way more up my alley than that french reduction, tuna tartar, or whatever else they think people want to eat.”

Terry chuckled and waited until you took a bite of your food. You sighed in appreciation and smiled closed-lipped at him. “This is delicious, Terry,” you said.

Terry grinned, showing off his beautiful smile. It was gone just as quick and he nodded. “Good to hear,” he said. 

What you wouldn’t pay or do to see him smile like that again. You ate beside Terry, soaking in the domesticity of it all. You were burning with questions. But you bit your tongue and just enjoyed the stillness. The peace. The quiet. 

Terry finished in record time, wolfing down his meal like he had just come back from jail or something. He stood up and grabbed two more biscuits. You didn’t know where the fuck he put it all. 

“Did Grammy Bean get you into singing?” Terry asked. 

You smiled and nodded, thinking of your grandmother. “Yup. She had a piano that she let me toddle on until she buckled down and got me piano lessons. She was a mainstay in the jazz scene. She knew them all. I was always following after her, so she ended up getting me started with singing. Encouraged me to do it for me if I was going to do this professionally. She bought me my first audition dress,” you said. 

Bless Grammy Bean, but whew, that dress was hideous. You were twelve at the time and she somehow transformed you into a little version of her. A blue and purple paisley dress with swirls and waves and too many clashing colors. Old lady shoes. If it weren’t for the studio rep who actually listened instead of laughing at you, you would’ve been sent home with tears to keep you company. 

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Terry said. 

“She really was,” you said softly, remembering the pain of losing the most important person in your corner all over again. “How about you? Any grandma stories?” 

Terry wiped his hands on the paper towel beside his empty plate and then wiped his mouth. He missed a crumb in his mustache but you decided not to tell him. If anything, it made him more endearing. He followed the towel with his hand, swiping away the crumb anyway. Bastard.

“Yeah, my grandma was no joke. Me and my cousin Mike were terrors. Always running in and out of the house, always getting into trouble. One time, we had been play-fighting in the rain. We were covered in mud. When grandma saw us, she hosed us down, gave us a proper whuppin’ for tracking mud on her porch, and then made us clean off her porch before we could come inside,” Terry said, smiling at the memory. 

You smiled with him and shook your head, trying to imagine Terry at such a young age. Was he an awkward teen? Probably not. He was probably born with “responsible" stamped on his forehead. 

“Oh, she was really no joke,” you said.

Terry smiled and shook his head. “Not a one. She’s the one that got me into the Marines. She would tell me all her stories of the Air Force and how she was in charge of making sure the women who served were in bed by curfew. A lot of them tried sneaking out to meet up with boys. My grandma was there with a clipboard and her service weapon telling them to try her,” he said, chuckling to himself. 

“Not the clipboard too,” you said, chuckling with him. 

“They could either get checked off or checked out,” he said, pitching his voice to sound like an older lady. With his deep voice, the sound didn’t quite manage what he went for. You continued to laugh at his impression, waving your hands. 

“I’m not trying–” you kept laughing, unable to apologize. 

“It’s all good. She was a funny woman. She’d want us to laugh,” he said. He sobered and looked at you while you tried to catch your breath. Giggles escaped you as you calmed down yourself, finding yourself getting lost in his stormy eyes. 

You cleared your throat and sucked on your bottom lip. You both opened your mouth at the same time and then giggled. “You go,” he said.

“No, please,” you said.

“Ladies first,” he said. You sighed and rolled your eyes just as the doorbell rang. You cursed under your breath. You almost forgot for a few moments that you weren’t a normal person.

Terry stood up from the bar stool and went to the door for you, checking to see who was there. But you already knew. In five, four, three…

“There you are! Didn’t you get my text?” Mirage asked, walking into the room. 

Joya followed close behind with a shy, pained smile on her face. She clutched her calendar to her chest and you smiled. You nearly had a heart attack looking at Terry. There was no way in hell your sweet assistant could handle Terry’s muscles on full display. 

“I did not. I was eating breakfast, forgive me. Remind me what we’re doing today?” You asked. Because at this point, Terry effectively made you forget for a morning that you were a singer. 

Terry re-entered the room silently, moving around Mirage and headed towards the kitchen. He began to pack up the plates. “Let me help,” you said, hopping off the stool. 

“I got it. Go be awesome,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and giggled. You followed Mirage and Joya into the living room and sat down on the huge, white pleather couch. Joya sat down in the armchair, faced away from Terry, and opened her calendar. 

“I managed to push your LA costume fittings to eleven to let you sleep in. You have an interview with Essence at three. Here is the list of questions,” she said, sliding over a piece of paper to you. You looked them over. Nothing too bad, not much you hadn’t answered before. 

“Okay, pretty light day,” you said. 

“Jake called. He needs you at the club tonight, rather than tomorrow,” Mirage said.

“What? Why?” You asked. 

“Lord AK flew in early and will be there and Jake needs you to hype up the single,” Mirage said. She cringed at your expression as you sighed and fell back against the couch. 

“I was looking forward to staying in,” you said. 

“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t push it. I tried telling Jake about what happened yesterday-”

You waved off her incoming apology. “It’s not you. I know Jake is only thinking dollar signs right now,” you said, thinking of your good for nothing agent. 

“How long do I have to show my face at the club?” You asked. 

“You can’t go to a club. There’s no way to secure your safety,” Terry chimed in from the kitchen. 

“I have to. If I don’t, the single won’t get promoted. If the single doesn’t get promoted, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, my ass is out of a job,” you said. 

Terry’s jaw flexed as he took in the information you gave him. “There’s no way around it?” He asked.

“Ah, sorry. No,” Mirage chimed in for you. 

“There’s going to be a lot of influencers there. Lots of cameras. I don’t know if you could have a bodyguard close by,” Mirage said. 

“I can blend in,” Terry said. 

You looked at Mirage and Joya before glancing guiltily at Terry. He caught on, a smirk stretching his lips. “Don’t think I can hang?” 

“I mean…I wouldn’t call you a square…” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded his head. “I can blend in, princess,” he said.

You stuck your tongue out at him and he chuckled, returning to cleaning up the kitchen. You shook your head and turned back to your team. You went over a few more details for the day, the logistics of everything. 

“Ugh, I didn’t pack club clothes,” you said. 

“Already have you covered. After the interview, you’ll have a few choices the label is sending over,” Joya said. She consulted her calendar and thousands of tabs and sticky notes. You marveled at the way her mind worked. 

You smacked your teeth thinking of the type of clothes your label wanted you in. “Oh ye of little faith, girl! I already told them nothing silver, nothing sparkly, and nothing that’ll have your ass hanging out,” Joya said.

“I love you,” you said and giggled.

“I love you too, miss lady. We have fifteen minutes to get on the road before we’re late for your fittings,” Joya said. 

“Ugggghhhhh,” you groaned, sliding off the couch like a toddler. 

Mirage laughed and shook her head. “It’ll be painless. Well…as long as it isn’t Francois,” Mirage said.

You shivered from the floor. “I’m convinced he pokes me so many times to see if my ass is real,” you said. You all laughed and for a brief moment, you pretended that you were sixteen again with a circle of good friends, having a movie night. But those days were long past and gone. 

“Alright, alright, alright. I’m getting up. Fuck,” you said. You stood up from the floor and collected yourself. You squared your shoulders, threw your head back, and took a deep breath.

Movement to your right made you turn to Terry who had stopped cleaning to watch you. He nodded his head at you and you nodded back. Yeah, you had business to attend to.

The fitting was a breeze. Luckily Francois was nowhere to be found so you didn’t have to grab bandaids as you were done with the fitting. That was the secret part you loved about being a musician. Playing dress up. Seeing the mix of fabrics and clothes and getting to see the hidden seams to allow for quick costume changes on stage. 

The interview went just as well, talking with Brandi Harper, a journalist for Essence. She was cool, down to earth, making the interview feel like a conversation rather than a Q&A. You had bonded over your love for anime, discussing the different shows you watched. 

She did end up asking about the A’Kierra interview that you did and you had to fight everything in you not to drag A’Kierra’s nasty ass. You only ended up shrugging and dismissing it. Why give that clown more ammunition? 

Now, you were back at the hotel, getting dolled up for the club. Terry sat on the couch watching everyone like a hawk. He only allowed one make up artist and one hair stylist and only after he did his little background investigation on the both of them. Your team was loyal. You told him as much. Yet he still looked at everyone like any one of them could snap. 

Angie worked on your makeup while Nicky worked on your hair. “You gon’ sweat this out?” He asked.

“Probably, yeah,” you said with a grin. Nicky rolled his eyes but laughed with you as he switched tactics. He quickly abandoned what he was doing and then undid your hair from the ponytail. 

“You gon’ stress me out, chile,” he said.

“I love you, Nicky,” you said. 

Nicky harrumphed and you blew him a kiss while he started to braid your hair. “You lucky I stay ready, miss thing,” he said. He grumbled about you while he got to work, braiding quickly and efficiently. That was why you paid to bring Nicky wherever you went. No one had hands like him. 

Joya entered the circus that was your hotel living room carrying a garment bag over her shoulder. Mirage was in the corner, on the phone with Jake setting up details about the club. 

You snuck a glance at Terry who caught you looking. You rolled your bottom lip into your mouth and Angie groaned. You apologized to Angie who had to switch tactics as well. “Every time, girl?” She asked. 

You giggled. “You’re right. I’m a bad client,” you said.

She sighed and shook her head. “You’re lucky I like you,” she said. 

“Oh, it’s my lucky night then. I need to do some gambling before we leave Vegas,” you said. You let Angie remove the gloss from your lips and went with a lip stain instead. It was a darker red than what you were used to but some sneaks in the mirror had you feeling yourself.

You may be a homebody but deep, deep down in your crevices, you liked to party too. Liked to dance and move and sing your heart out. Get some drinks going and you were the life of the party. 

Joya managed to get closer and tapped the bag. “Got what you needed,” she said.

“Thank you,” you told her. “Terry? Can I see you please?” You asked.

Terry was by your side in a second, crowding your space. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome. You pointed to Joya. “I had her get some outfits for you as well. If you’re going to blend, I need you to really blend. And I doubt you have a club outfit in that duffel you carry,” you said. 

“I’m good, thanks though,” he said.

“And just what do you plan on wearing to blend in then?” You asked.

He spread his hands and you looked at the black T-shirt and jeans he usually wore. You giggled and shook your head, much to Angie’s and Nicky’s frustration. “You cannot go to a club like this wearing your uniform, soldier,” you said.

“It’s a club,” he said. “No one’s worried about me.”

“Sheeit,” Nicky whispered. Angie elbowed him and he cleared his throat, returning to braiding your hair. He was already halfway through your head. 

You were tempted to lick your lips to keep from laughing at the adorable, confused expression on Terry’s face. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you don’t make some kind of effort. Please, indulge me. Otherwise I’d have to go in by myself and without you there to guard me, who knows what could happen?” 

Terry’s jaw flexed. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. He grabbed the clothes bag from Joya who looked like a deer caught in headlights. She lowered her eyes and tried to back away as nonchalant as possible. Poor tink. You understood though. Terry was intimidatingly sexy as hell. 

“I wouldn’t dream of pulling anything,” you said. 

He gave you a blank stare before disappearing to his side of the suite. You turned to Joya with a grateful smile. 

In no time at all, Nicky had your head braided and put on a wig. He flat ironed it and then pulled it into a half up, half down style. “Oh, I like this,” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror he brought. 

“I know, I know. I’m the greatest,” he said.

“We’re running behind, let’s wrap it up soon,” Mirage called out, returning to her call. 

What was taking Terry so long? You wondered which outfit he chose or if he’d stick to his uniform. You had to get dressed yourself so you went into your bedroom with Angie and Nicky to help put on your club outfit and make sure you didn’t mess up your hair and makeup. 

The jumpsuit was sheer and looked painted on when you got it on. The back was out but it made your ass look extra fat. Oh, you were so keeping this. It had a tropical flower design on it that looked fun and perfect for the club. Partnered with your hair and makeup, hell, you’d fuck you tonight. 

You left your room and Terry stood up. You paused, your heels near skidding on the floor. Got. Damn. He chose to wear a navy dress shirt with gold flowers on it. He left it buttoned all the way to the top and his black jeans made him look extra delicious. 

He smoothed the shirt and looked at himself like he couldn’t believe how he got here. You giggled to get over your initial shock. “Not bad, Mr. Terry. Not bad,” you said.

“Don’t look so bad yourself,” he said. 

You smiled and followed your army of people out of the hotel, to the waiting car. Terry opened the door for you and helped you inside. He went around to the other side, climbing into the back with you. 

“Oh, not driving tonight?” You asked. 

“I gotta blend, right?” He asked. 

If he did any more blending, people would think he was a famous movie star. He pulled on some shaded glasses, completing the look while a member of your security team got in the front seat. Mirage and Joya would be in the follow car. 

Sometimes they were your best friends. And sometimes they were your best employees. The ride beyond to the club was short, really only going from one hotel to the next. But because you’d be spotted instantly, it was somehow easier to take the car than walk. 

Paparazzi lined the entrance to the club and those flashing bulbs immediately turned to your car when it was your turn. You took a deep breath, looking out at the sea of vultures. There were some fans mixed in. 

“Guess word got out that I’d be here,” you said with a rueful smile. “Wondered who leaked that.” 

Jake was such a leech. But you kept him around because if nothing else, he could hustle a dollar from a beggar. And for an artist determined to do this shit right, you needed all the money you could scrounge up. After living paycheck to paycheck growing up, robbing Paul to pay Peter, you had plans. You didn’t ever want to go back to the poor little girl you were before. 

“We can turn around,” Terry offered.

You sighed. “No. We really can’t,” you said. You took a deep breath and pulled on your metaphorical armor. You pictured it encasing you in the hardest known element. Not a chink or weak spot to exploit. 

You pulled on your own shades because the flashing lights left you dizzy. Terry’s counterpart got out of the car and then swooped around to open the door for you. Terry got out by himself and quickly walked around the car, offering you his arm. 

The paparazzi resembled a feeding frenzy at the zoo. They called your name endlessly, squawking with demands to turn here, look here, give us a smile, give us a pout, who’s your man, and on and on it went.

You posed and waved to them all, playing into your persona. You singled out a few fans and took pictures with them, signing some autographs. You blew kisses as you walked up the club’s doors and the bouncer let you in without any fuss.

The sudden darkness of the club’s interior foyer after all the flashing lights gave you whiplash. You swayed on your feet and Terry steadied you with a hand on your hip. “You okay?” He asked. 

You shook your head to clear it. “I hate that shit,” you said. But you were fine. You’d live. 

“We made it,” Mirage said, coming up from the side entrance. She wore a simple black party dress that fit her full figure well. She pulled her braids back into a ponytail and added on makeup. You hugged her and then Joya who peeked out from behind Mirage. She had changed as well, into a pair of dark jeans and a flirty shirt. 

“You both look amazing!” You said. 

“Not as good as you!” Joya said. You waved them off. They were too adorable. Linked arm in arm, you passed through the curtains and entered the club proper. Nothing was small in Vegas on the strip. The place was huge, a mass of people gyrating on the dance floor, hanging out by the bar, or trying to make moves on each other.

You made your way to the VIP section. The section was already bumping with multiple artists bopping their heads to the music. Groupies hung around the various rappers and singers, each all similarly dressed in baggy pants and jerseys or oversized coats. 

“You’re here!” Another singer, Alexandra Crane, beamed and then wrapped her arms around you. You screamed with her. The cute little singer from Atlanta had become a friend during a concert you performed together. You were glad to see that she ditched the other two in her group. 

“It is so good to see you!” You said. You introduced Mirage and Joya and true to form, Joya fangirled. 

“Oh, and who’s this?” Alex asked. 

“This is my-”

“I’m her toy for the evening,” Terry said, extending his hand to Alex. She shook it but gave you an exaggerated wink. You waved her off and let your eyes adjust to the dizzying array of spinning neon lights in the club.

The dance floor was full of uncoordinated people jumping up and down to the same four club remixes on repeat. Ugh. “Have you seen Lord AK?” You asked.

Alex shook her head. “Are you meeting up with him?” She asked. 

You nodded and bent closer to be heard over the music. “We’re promoting ‘Down Bad’,” you told her. 

She smiled and nodded her head. “Oh my god, I love that song!” She said.

You flopped onto the couch with Alex and caught up, leaving Terry to sit beside you and scan the club for potential threats. You relaxed as the night went on, going shot for shot with Alex and your girls. 

As the night progressed, some fans dared to approach and ask for pictures. Terry tried to deter them but you went against his orders, taking pictures anyway. It was incredibly brave to even ask. You wouldn’t deny them a quick picture and wave. 

The club finally changed the music to something you could actually shake your ass too. The alcohol warmed your belly and had you feeling yourself. You grabbed Alex’s hand and made your way to the dance floor. 

Terry grabbed your hand as you reached the bottom step of the VIP section. “I can’t protect you around all of them,” he said.

“I wanna dance. You can join meee, boy toy,” you sang, crooking your finger. Terry tilted his head and if you could see his eyes, you were sure he would be judging you. Ah well. You hadn’t had fun in a long time. Your stalker preferred to catch you unawares. The mask had been the creepiest contact so far. 

The fanboy letters and poems were what really creeped you out. You shivered just thinking about it. But that was the point. You didn’t want to think about your stalker. You wanted to have fun. 

Terry let your hand go and then you squealed, getting onto the dance floor and immediately started shaking your ass to the Ying Yang Twins song. You let go. You just followed the rhythm of the music and danced with Alex, pretending you were just a girl in a club, quietly hoping some man would come holler at you for a second. 

You danced in a circle so that it would make you face the VIP section. Terry’s profile was turned towards you, eyeing you as you danced. You put extra flair into your sexy dancing. Swaying your hips, shaking your ass, flirting with him with your body from across the room. 

He watched it all. He didn’t even pay attention to those around him. Didn’t give the waitress a glance as she lingered, hovered, trying to grab his attention. He lifted his fingers to wave her off and she left with a huff. That only made you smile and roll your body to the music. 

The DJ scratched the record, getting everyone’s attention. Everyone turned to the DJ in the middle of the club, up on stage surrounded by a paneled wall full of screens with colors dancing in the display. 

“Ya’ll ready for some hot, new shit? Fresh off the tracks?” The DJ asked. The club screamed. 

“Ya’ll ready or not, damn!” The DJ asked. 

Behind him, Lord AK stepped out with a microphone. “Call me a simp, ‘cause that ass got me mesmerized…” he started rapping the opening lyrics to your song. You screamed, just as shocked as everyone else.

Why didn’t Mirage tell you this was part of the plan? You looked towards the VIP section but Mirage wasn’t there. Were you supposed to sing as well? Were you just there to witness? This mickey mouse shit was unprofessional as fuck. 

Lord AK seemed to know what the hell was going on because he made a beeline through the crowd to you, serenading you with his rap, grinning widely. Gahh, he was so damn cute. If he didn’t have some deep seated fucking issues, that would be your man for real. But after the scare last year at a party, he had disappeared for counseling. 

Fuck it. You grabbed the mic from him when it came time to your part, singing to him, flirting with him and the crowd. You involved them, making them think that they were the ones you were down bad for. 

Mirage’s head bobbed in the crowd. She gave you a harried look, waving a microphone covertly. You pushed on Lord AK’s chest and sang while backing him away. You grabbed the microphone from Mirage just as Lord AK leaned in for a fake kiss. You tapped the microphone on his lips and he grinned, grabbing the microphone and began the breakdown of the song. 

There was a call and response in the middle of the song, getting quicker as the lyrics turned nastier. You and Lord AK circled each other, getting closer and closer, until you reached the climax of the song where you belted out the final lyrics. The club exploded with cheers and whistles. 

The DJ played another one of Lord AK’s songs. The idea was to get people focused on the music, not his hiatus. You felt bad for him, really. He was a talented rapper. People should already focus on the music and not that he was going through shit. Everybody was going through shit. 

Mirage fought her way to you, grabbing your microphone and Lord AK’s. “Fuckin’ Jake sprung this shit on me. By the time I knew, he was already in place and I couldn’t find you and…”

“Babe, breathe,” you said. Mirage stopped mid sentence and took a deep breath. 

“I’m going to fuckin’ kill him,” she said, shaking her head and walking away. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. Somethin’ told me this shit wasn’t right, ‘cause I almost didn’t find you out here,” Lord AK said. 

You waved him off and hugged him, covertly taking a deep whiff of his cologne. He smelled heavenly, like a mix of spiced flowers and sandalwood. You should’ve been having his babies. You inwardly groaned at the loss of your fictional family as you pulled away. 

“It is so good to see you. Need some familiar faces, for real,” you said. 

His grin was wide and genuine, his eyes no longer cloudy now that he got rid of most of his entourage. That whole group had been toxic and you were glad to see him on the other side of it. Healthy looked good on him. 

However, back in his presence, his luminance seemed to dim. He no longer really turned your head. You only had eyes for – him. Terry remained in the VIP section but there was some unknowable expression on his face. You didn’t know him well enough to decipher this particular look. 

He was always so damn grumpy. “How long you here for?” You asked.

Lord AK shrugged his shoulders. “Enough to be seen. Then I’ma dip. This club is ass,” he said. 

“True that. Don’t leave without me seeing you again,” you said.

“You’re gonna see me in LA, girl,” he said.

“And what that mean!” You tapped his shoulder and made your way back to the VIP section. Most of it had cleared out but there were still a few movers and shakers talking, their phones out recording everything. 

The lights began to go crazy, turning the VIP section darker as the lights danced in time with the club remixes again. “Having fun?” Terry asked when you got up the stairs.

“Are you? Have you gotten up once?” You asked.

“Mhm. Just sitting here. Enjoying the free concert,” he said.

You giggled, looking away. You wanted so desperately to ask what he thought of the performance. The words to excuse the behavior were at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to make it clear that it was all an act for you and Lord AK. That you weren’t really into him, ya’ll just had good chemistry. 

But there was nothing to really explain, was there? You didn’t owe Terry an explanation. You grabbed two shots and handed him one. “If this was what you call blending in, it’s so bad. You scream cop,” you said.

“I look good, what you mean?” He asked. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and you shook your head with a giggle. 

“You gotta drink. You gotta dance. Those are the rules,” you said. 

“I don’t drink,” he said. 

“Like a you can’t handle your liquor thing or is this a health nut thing?” You asked.

Terry chuckled. “Health nut?” He asked. 

“You know you can be addicted to working out, right?” You asked. 

Terry shook his head. “I don’t drink on the job,” he said. 

“This isn’t a job. You’re blending. Blending means going method,” you said. Terry sighed and grabbed the shot out of your hand. He knocked it back without a grimace and you matched him, tipping the shot glass back and grinning at him. 

The DJ gave the club remix a break and turned on Post Malone’s “Rockstar”. You squealed and threw up your hands. “I love this song! Dance with me,” you said. You grabbed his hand and tried to pull him to standing. He remained firmly planted in his seat.

“I definitely don’t dance on duty,” he said. 

The alcohol made you petulant. At least that was your excuse and you were sticking to it. You gave up trying to get him to stand so you took another shot for courage and then began dancing in the VIP section.

The neon blue and purple lights danced across the shades he still wore. You couldn’t see his pretty eyes and you pretended that he was a famous person. Someone who understood what it was like to feel lonely in the middle of a crowd. That image quickly disappeared though. You didn’t want a fantasy. 

You wanted to remain yourself. You wanted Terry to remain Terry. The inflexible, professional, gorgeous man who took your safety seriously. The same man who let you peek behind the curtain of his control earlier today. The same man who made you feel in ways you hadn’t in a very long time. 

You turned around and began dancing for him. Just for him. Rolling your ass in a slow circle to the song, bending down as you did so, making your knees do most of the work to entice Terry. 

He adjusted himself in the seat, tilting his head at you. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice rough. 

“Dancing with you since you won’t dance with me,” you said. You continued to dance, looking back at him every so often to make sure he was still looking. You grew more bold as you danced, now doing it just because. Just because he made you feel normal when so much of your life wasn’t. 

You backed into his lap and mimicked bouncing on it. You grabbed his knees and ground your ass in lap, used him for support while you danced slower and slower. The thrumming beat matched the beat of your heart, turning you bolder. 

You looked over your shoulder and bit your lip, still grinding in his lap. Terry took a deep breath but you weren’t making it easy for him. “You know you want to dance with me,” you said over your shoulder.

Terry leaned forward and grabbed your hips, slamming you down onto his lap. You yelped, feeling a third leg pushing at the fabric of his jeans. He placed his lips next to your ear and whispered, “Behave.” 

You grinned and kept grinding and dancing on him, giving him a lap dance whether he wanted it or not. He didn’t stop you, only gripped your hips harder with his thick fingers. He slowly began to move with you, rubbing his bulge into your ass.

He moved one of his hands from your hips to trail a finger along your exposed, sweaty back. You gasped, feeling electricity pass from his fingers to your skin. You took back control by abruptly standing up, turning around, and climbing into his lap. 

You continued your dance, wriggling in his lap. You bent backwards, stretched, and then rolled forward. Terry dragged a finger down your chest and you wished it was open in the front too. You liked his hands on you. You really, really liked his hands on you.

Your skin grew overheated, waves of heat rolling through your body. Terry gripped your ass and squeezed. You gasped and fell forward, knocked off your rhythm with just a firm grip. You ought to be ashamed you were that easy, but hell, who could blame you? 

When he looked that good? Smelled that good? Felt so damn good? 

Terry leaned forward and you steadied yourself on his shoulders. You braced for those full, lush lips to touch yours. Watched as if in slow motion as he leaned in. Your breathing was so rapid, your chest rose and fell. 

Terry moved one of his hands to your face, bringing you closer by cupping your cheek. Your eyes drooped, too eager to get this over with yet wanting to savor every little second. His hand was hot against your cheek. His breath fanned across your face.

He bypassed your lips to bring his closer to your ear. “I don’t take advantage of drunk women,” he whispered. He licked your neck and you moaned, shivering as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water down your veins. “I like my women sober when they’re riding me.”

You gasped while he stood up and gently placed you on the couch. “Stay here. I’ll grab you some coffee.” 

You stayed put while he disappeared to do just that. You stared after his retreating form, at a complete loss for words. You were hot and bothered. Your flabbers were ghasted. And you were so damn horny you thought you’d pass out. 

Such a bastard. You fanned yourself as Terry returned with coffee and water, making you somehow drink both. He escorted you out of the club with a few stops to take pictures with fans. Despite whatever the hell he thought, you were not drunk. 

He had you tucked into the car before you could say, “Cinderella”. There was nothing to talk about in the car. The interior was too tense. Too thick. Too cloying with the mix of cologne, perfume, sweat, and hairspray. You rode in silence back to your hotel, escorted to the room, and stood silently while Terry checked every nook and cranny of the room. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Terry,” you sang lazily, heading to your bedroom doors. Terry crossed the living room to his side.

“Goodnight,” he said. 

You stared at each other as you closed the doors at the same time. Finally alone, you turned and leaned your back against the door feeling like the biggest fucking loser on the planet. 

Whew. Help yourself to some more treats! The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

Tag list: PLEASE. I love ya'll FRFR.

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[ddejavvu]

okay but bodyguard!hotch falling for the biggest bookworm ever, like he can watch her for hours reading by her favourite spot at the window, overlooking the gardens and rain and he loves reading to her before she falls asleep on his lap 🥹🥹🥹

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

You're too immersed in the novel you're reading to hear Aaron's footsteps approach from behind, but you feel his large hands smooth over your shoulders, fingertips digging into the tense muscles there.

"You make my job too easy," He murmurs, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disrupt your serenity, "Have you moved all morning?"

"No," You grin sheepishly up at him, "I lost track of time."

"You always do that," His beaming smile is equally as sweet as the romance woven into the story you're reading is, and you feel the same butterflies as the main character does when Aaron's hands slide up your neck to cup your chin.

He holds your head up to face him as he stares down at you, your scalp pinned to his shirt. He squishes gently at your cheeks, "Lunch is ready. I thought you'd come and be my taste-tester again."

"Sorry," You hum, sure that he can feel the vibrations of your voice where he's still holding your throat, "I didn't hear you in the kitchen. You don't have to cook for me, y'know? You're not getting paid for that."

"I'm getting paid to do nothing," He teases, kneading more at the flesh of your cheeks with his large thumbs, "You sit in the window all day, I feel like I'm catsitting. I'm happy to make you lunch, otherwise I think you'd get too lost in your reading to eat."

You feel your cheeks heat up at his gentle teasing, and you're sure he does too. You slide your bookmark between the pages that you're on, standing when he finally releases your face from his warm grip.

"What are we eating?" You let him take your hand, trailing after him from the sitting room into the kitchen.

"You're eating soup," He leads you to your place at the table, another placemat across from you, though there's no bowl on top of the fabric. "I already ate."

"Aaron, I'm sorry," You look up at him with a mournful fret in your eyes, "I didn't mean to starve you. I- I'm glad you ate, but next time if you're hungry you don't have to eat alone, you can just come and get me."

"Relax." He tells you, his large hands covering your own as he pulls your chair out for you, easing you into the seat, "I ate first so that I could read to you while you have your meal, honey."

"You want to read to me?" You tilt your head to the side, "I'm reading one of those cheesy romance novels. Mass-market paperback."

"I like cheesy romance," He inspects the back cover of the book you hadn't noticed him smuggle from the sitting room, "Ooh, 'Marilyn's bodyguard has dark eyes and a penchant for holding her hand.' Sounds like a good setup," Aaron grins at you where your face must be burning hotter than the steaming soup in front of you, "What made you choose this one?"

[kryptonitejelly]

Hiiiii! I really wanna read that Hotch bodyguard au that you mentioned but I can’t find it on your Masterlist, if it’s not too much trouble could you link it please? :)

It was just an example of an au that I mentioned, but I’ve never wrote one, but I’ve read a few around!

Imagining a younger hotch here - maybe early 30s? With reader in her early 20s.

-

“Hotch?” Aaron hears your voice calling him first from the inside of your suite. His brow furrows immediately, hands going instinctively under the material of his jacket and to the holster on his hip.

Quick strides carry him across the threshold of the room and towards the door which separates the bedroom from the rest of the suite. He turns the knob, not bothering to knock because you had called out to him, one hand still against his gun, ready to pull it out in an instant.

He pushes open the door, swiftly but cautiously to find you standing in front of the dresser, your back to him, hands clutching the material of your dress to your chest. Your gazes meet in the mirror, your lips quirking into an amused smirk as your observe the position on his hand.

“I’m not in any trouble,” you tease to which his brow furrows deeper in response, but otherwise remaining relatively unphased by your teasing. You don’t give him a chance to respond, already anticipating the chiding along the lines of how the world has a lot of crazy people that would love to harm the president’s daughter, that would come your way, choosing instead to launch head first into the reason why you had called out to him. “I need your help with the zip.”

Your request causes Hotch’s gaze to dart towards your back. He hadn’t noticed when he first stepped in, but he definitely notices now - the gaping back of your dress flared open to reveal smooth skin, the entire outfit only held up by the pair of hands clutching the material to your chest.

“Please?” He hears you say again, and he has to tear his gaze away from your exposed skin.

“Fine,” he says, tone brusque, but business like as he finally drops his hands away from his gun to move behind you. You feel a large, warm hand slide onto your waist and the rough ends of fingertips brush your skin as Hotch works to slide the zipper upwards. His face is expressionless, slipping back behind a mask of professionalism, but be he has to force himself not to stare longer than necessary as his mind wanders to what exactly it would be like to unzip you out of that dress - a thought he keeps very much to himself.

“Do you need help with the necklace?” He asks, gaze running over the piece of jewellery laid out on the surface of the dresser.

“Please.”

Hotch doesn’t wait for you to move, but moves first, hand reaching past you to pick up the necklace on the dresser. His movements cause his face to come up right beside yours, allowing you to catch a whiff of his cologne.

You push your hair to a side as he straightens up, his hands looping themselves over your head to drape the necklace along your clavicle.

“How do I look?” You ask, your gaze meeting his again in the mirror as he finishes the task, his hands dropping back away from your neck.

“Nice,” Hotch utters the single word, his gaze locked onto yours in the mirror. Truth to be told, he thought you looked stunning - you always did, but it wasn’t something he could say. You hold his gaze in attempt to bore past his deep brown eyes, but he gives you nothing, opting instead to glance down at his watch.

“We are running behind schedule,” he says as he pulls himself away, from behind you, legs moving briskly, business like to the door. “Will you be ready in another fifteen minutes?”

“Nice?” You ignore his question as you peer into the mirror, “dressed to the nines and I just look nice?” You turn to stare accusingly at him, arms on your hips. It makes Hotch pause at the door before throwing a glance back in your direction. He can see the petulant uptick of your brow and he knows it means that he won’t get away until he gives you more than just ���nice”.

“You look beautiful,” he says gruffly, before pulling the door open and stepping outside. “Fifteen minutes,” he calls out before snapping the door shut behind him.

You turn back to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your lips now unturned in a wide smile.

“Thank you Hotch,” you call out in a semi yell, loud enough for your voice to permeate through the closed door. You can almost hear him roll his eyes.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hi! Tangerine x reader request where maybe tangerine is hired as a bodyguard or something with similar powers and whatnot to protect reader. (Maybe reader is like a nepotism baby essentially and her dad hires him to look after her bc he’s maybe in some sort of trouble and worried they’ll go after his daughter?)

[Tangerine follows her through the garden she’s walking through to a secret gazebo]

[She sits, setting her picnic basket down and eventually convinces him to join her.]

[They talk for a while, mainly about her life]

[Time passes]

[She stands and begins talking about the lake round the gazebo and how it’s the perfect wether for a dip]

[He asks if she’d like to go for a swim]

[She begins to reply that she’d love one but unfortunately she cannot swim.]

[He only listened to her say yes and pushed her into the water immediately regretting doing so as he hears the end of her sentence as she’s falling into the water]

[Hastily he strips off his suit jacket and waistcoat and dives into the water in search of her]

[Finally he finds her trying to keep her head above water and takes her back to the gazeo’s edge]

[She hyperventilates and he sits beside her, checking she’s alright]

[Angrily she turns away from him and crawls towards a patch of sunlight in a poor attempt to dry off]

[She lays down and in a begins seemingly increasingly interested in the pillar beside her to take her mind off her anger and annoyance with him]

[he sits next to her and begins apologizing to no avai]

[His hand comes up and he gently guides her face over to look at him. She allows this]

[He sincerely apologizes]

[She ignores his apology and points out chocolate on his face from when they were eating]

[He make a few failed attempts to wipe it off]

[It ends in her leaning forward and kissing him and the chocolate off]

Could lead to smut. Idk I trust your judgement on it. Anyways hope it is too long love you!!!

Chocolate

Suggestive, not really smut but 🤷‍♀️ idk

“Seriously?” You asked your dad, looking at the bodyguard he hired.

“You’re famous now. I used to have one, he wasn’t so bad. Maybe you’ll get along.” He said, and the man stood there quietly. Your dad was rich, and famous once, but now it was your turn.

“I don’t need a bodyguard. It’s just stupid reporters asking about the movie and you.”

“Have you seen some of the things have been saying about you? It’s disgusting. I will not have my child walk out this house and be harassed. It’s not fun. Why do you think I never posted you guys or talked about you guys? Because, if I did you would be in danger.” He said.

“Whatever, can I- we go now? I just wanna go home.” You lied, you were going to a secret beautiful garden, no one else knew about it. And it even had a gazebo. It was shut down a while ago, and it was hidden away.

Apparently it’s haunted, and was built over a graveyard which is why no one goes there. It’s funny how people believe stupid stuff they see online. You thought.

“Sure. Keep her safe, right?” Your dad asked, patting your bodyguard on the shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” He said, looking at you. You just walked out the house, and got in your car. Your bodyguard got in the passenger seat.

He sat there, quietly as you drove.

“So, what’s your name?” You asked him.

“Tangerine.”

“Well Tangerine, my dads really over protective. Sorry about him.”

“It’s quite alright. I get hired by lots of over protective people. But I understand, your movie was great, by the way. You’re a good actor.” He said, and you smiled and thanked him.

☆☆☆☆☆

After a few minutes, you parked the car and got out. Tangerine got out as well.

“Well, looks like someone else knows about this spot now.” You said, and looked over to him. He looked at you and then back to the trail.

You started walking, and you grabbed a bag out the back car.

You sighed “This is so dumb.”

“What is?”

“This.” You gestured to him “I don’t need anyone to watch over me like a babysitter.”

☆☆☆☆☆

After a few months of hanging out there, and him protecting you, you finally understood why you needed him.

As soon as you exited your car in public, reporters swarmed you, tiktokers as well as they filmed you, to see Tangerine instead immediately get in front of you and in the way of their pictures.

At first, they thought you two were dating. Some people were jealous, of him and of you.

And there was a lot of people that loved tangerine. You showed him, and he just looked at it in confusion.

“People are crazy. How do they love me if you’re right there?” He joked.

You felt your stomach flip at that comment. It was undeniable he was attractive, everyone saw it. But you didn’t know he saw you as even pretty, let alone loveable.

You sat down on the grass, basket next to you guys. You both stared out at the lake.

You picked up some chocolate, handing it to him. He thanked you and took it, eating it messily. He was a messy eater, you noticed often. He didn’t care, honestly.

“How come you’ve never swimmed before?” He asked, as you guys walked closer to the lake. You just put your feet in it.

“I would love too, but-“

He pushed you in the water, expecting you to laugh.

But when you screamed and struggled to stay above water, he immediately knew something wrong. You tried to kick, and tried to swim.

His face dropped, he quickly took off his jacket and shirt, diving in. He carried you out the water and sat you down.

You shivered, and looked horrified.

“I’m sorry! I just heard you say you would love to, I didn’t know you couldn’t swim.” He said, as you got up and moved away from him.

He sighed, running a hand through his wet hair.. he went over to you, you had your knees held to your chest.

You didn’t look at him, he sighed and grabbed your jaw.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you didn’t know how to swim, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” He said, you avoided his gaze and looked at his lips.

“You have some chocolate.. on your lips.” You mumbled quietly. You laughed quietly when he attempted to get it off.

So, any thought was out the window, and you leaned forward, stopping when you ghosted his lips.

“Is this okay?” You asked him.

“More than okay.” He mumbled, as you kissed him. Once you guys stopped, you looked at him and wiped the other chocolate off his face.

He slowly and carefully got on top of you, you laid down underneath him. He kissed you again softly, his shirt was already off so it wasn’t too much of a problem.

You unbuttoned your shirt, and he smirked at the way you tried to cover yourself slightly, feeling exposed.

He grabbed your hands, moving them away.

“Don’t. I wanna see you, all of you.”

[bobbie-robron]

I mean, if he could stay put of trouble for two minutes, we’d be fine.

22-Jan-2019

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Okay, my lovely lovely sweethearts! It's choosing time!

[thesunkeptrising]

This is so Aaron Hotchner coded (in my head)

[quibbs126]

I feel like Caramel Arrow’s human name could be like, Caroline or something. And her last name could be Aaron I suppose? I dunno, I don’t feel like Caroline Aaron works that well, but I can’t think of a better name

[hoe4hotchner]

Between Man and Dog [A.H]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙺𝟿 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷.𝟹𝚔 𝙲𝚆: 𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜, 𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢), 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝: 𝙸𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙺𝟿 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

Send requests here

           The sound of paws padding against the hardwood floor filled your apartment as Jaeger, your German Shepherd, trotted up beside you. He nudged his head into your hand, seeking the attention he knew you’d give him. Jaeger wasn’t just a work partner; he was your best friend, your constant companion - though that had become a bit more complicated ever since you started dating Aaron.

           You looked down at Jaeger, smiling at how content he was to just be near you after a long day of catching criminals. His large frame leaned into your leg, and despite his tough, disciplined nature on the job, he was a softy at heart. Except, of course, when it came to Aaron. As much as Jaeger respected him in passing, there was always a hint of protectiveness - and maybe a little jealousy - whenever Aaron was around especially when he was too close for Jaeger's liking.

           The door clicked open, and in walked Aaron, his familiar suit and tie a contrast to the more casual atmosphere of your home. As soon as Jaeger heard the door, his head perked up, ears alert. He didn’t bark - he knew Aaron's sounds and scent by now - but that didn’t stop him from moving in between you and your boyfriend, planting himself right at your side like a furry barricade of slobber and teeth.

           “Hey,” Aaron greeted, smiling as he made his way toward you, but his eyes flickered to Jaeger, already predicting what would happen next.

           “Hi,” you said warmly, stepping toward him.

           But before Aaron could get too close, Jaeger’s large head bumped against Aaron’s knee, guiding him ever so slightly away from you with an evident purpose. You stifled a laugh as Jaeger gave Aaron what could only be described as a disapproving look, sitting tall and proud like a bodyguard on high alert.

           Aaron sighed, though his lips tugged into a small smile. "Still jealous, huh, buddy?"

           You grinned, reaching down to ruffle Jaeger’s ears, before quickly leaning over the dog to place a peck on Aaron's lips. "I think he’s just making sure you’re treating me right. You know how he is." You winked.

           "Yeah," Aaron chuckled, shaking his head, "he makes it clear every time I get within five feet of you."

           You stepped closer to Aaron, finally closing the distance, and as you did, Jaeger gave a low huff as if to say, Alright, but I’m watching you. He didn’t budge from his spot, though, not until Aaron wrapped his arm around your waist.

           "See? It’s fine," you teased Jaeger, giving him a playful nudge with your foot. "You can let him stay."

           Jaeger merely grumbled in response, his dark eyes watching Aaron like a hawk. But despite his antics, there was no real malice - just a big, protective dog who wasn’t quite ready to share his favorite person with anyone else.

           The next day, you were called out on a case with the unit. Jaeger was in his element, moving through the wooded area of a local park with precision, sniffing out a trail as part of his search. You were focused, keeping a steady pace behind him as he worked, your hand gripping the leash guiding him with confidence and familiarity.

           What you didn’t expect was to see Aaron and the rest of the BAU team show up on the scene as you emerged from the woods. You hadn’t realized your units would be working together today.

           Aaron spotted you almost immediately, his brow raising in mild surprise before his usual expression returned. "I didn’t know you were working today," he said as he approached, walking up alongside you.

           "Surprise," you replied with a small smile, but before you could say anything else, Jaeger’s head snapped up, recognizing Aaron.

           And, as if on cue, the German Shepherd made a low growl and planted himself right in front of Aaron, effectively blocking his path. It was the same routine as always - Jaeger asserting his territory, reminding Aaron that he was still the alpha in this dynamic. And that you were his, not Aaron's.

           Aaron chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. "Good to see you too, Jaeger."

           Jaeger, the most stubborn protector, merely stared at him, his tail flicking with just enough attitude to make his disapproval known.

           "Sorry," you said, shaking your head with a laugh. "He still thinks you’re up to something."

           Aaron gave a small smile, though he kept his distance, clearly knowing better than to test Jaeger’s boundaries at the moment. Especially when he was working "I’ll win him over one day."

           You raised a brow, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "Good luck with that, Hotchner."

           The case was moving along, but so did the tension. Aaron, along with a few other agents, had gone deeper into the woods after narrowing down a lead from one of the civilians. You were nearby with Jaeger, keeping your distance but ready to move if needed. The situation was dangerous - there was a suspect, armed and unpredictable, kidnapping children left and right. Everyone was tense as the clock ticked closer and closer to what inevitably would be a hard conversation to have with the victim's parents.

           As you waited, keeping an eye on your surroundings, a sudden crack rang out through the trees - the sound of a gunshot. Your heart dropped. In a moment of weakness you forgot to direct Jaeger and the moment the sound hit, his instincts took over.

           Before you could stop him, Jaeger jerked forward, pulling the leash out of your hands in one swift motion. You stumbled, calling after him, but it was too late - he was already running straight toward the sound.

           "Jaeger, no!" you shouted, scrambling to your feet as you ran after him.

           Jaeger sprinted ahead, his powerful body moving with purpose as he rushed toward where Aaron had gone. Your heart raced, panic bubbling in your chest as you realized what was happening. Jaeger was going after Aaron, and not to protect you this time, but to protect him.

           By the time you reached the clearing, you saw it - the suspect was down, disarmed by Aaron, but he hadn’t been alone. Another figure had appeared from behind the trees, aiming a gun straight at Aaron.

           But Jaeger was faster. With an intense, determined bark, Jaeger lunged forward, knocking the gunman off his feet and sending the weapon flying. In one smooth motion, Jaeger stood over him, growling and barking, his teeth bared as he held the man in place.

           Aaron was stunned but otherwise unharmed as he looked at Jaeger with wide eyes, the realization of what had just happened sinking in.

           You rushed forward, out of breath but relieved beyond words. "Jaeger, heel," you called, Jaeger backed off immediately, though he kept a watchful eye on the man beneath him, low rumbles still emerging from his throat.

           Aaron stood up, dusting himself off as he glanced at Jaeger, then at you. "Well... that was new."

           You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with relief. "Yeah, looks like Jaeger finally decided you were worth keeping."

           Aaron’s expression softened as he looked at Jaeger, who, for the first time, wasn’t glaring at him with suspicion but rather like he was saying, You’re alright now.

           With a small smile, Aaron knelt down, extending a hand toward Jaeger. "Good boy." He grinned.

           Jaeger hesitated for a moment, then, with a low, yet affectionate rumble in his chest, he stepped forward, nudging Aaron’s hand with his nose.

           You smiled, shaking your head in disbelief. "Guess you’re finally friends."

           Aaron stood up, giving Jaeger one final pat before turning to you. "Looks like I owe him one." Jaeger wagged his tail as if to say, Yeah, you do.

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work

[gghostwriter]

[Requests are closed]

Hi, you can call me Pau. I’m in my 20s and a self proclaimed spencer reid writer and a closeted aaron hotchner girl. My askbox is always open for questions and yapping.

Disclaimer: All one shots and requests are written in fem!reader but my two series are fem!oc

One shots

Angst

Death of a Love Affair [sad] ↳ The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t. Still Alive for My Lover [happy] ↳ The four times Spencer brushes with death and the fifth time he’s reborn to find his way back to you Dead Man Walking [sad] ↳ The three times memories of his broken promises plagued Spencer’s mind and the final time he’s faced with the consequences Poison Me, I'm Fine [sad] ↳ Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process Knots of Yearning ↳ Spencer lies by omission or in which Spencer acts like he doesn’t know how to tie a tie just to get you to do it for him A Series of Happenstance ↳ The three times Spencer loathed to see you and the one time he pleaded to Three's a Sideshow ↳ Spencer misses an important date and ends up paying the consequences

Fluff

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it ↳ The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't. Language of Devotion ↳ You caught Spencer learning a new skill—your native language One Single Thread of Gold ↳ The 3 times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the 1 time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes. Camaraderie ↳ Spencer and some unwanted guests catch you singing at a bad time Wanted: A Gentleman ↳ Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match If You Love Me Right ↳ Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Whispered Truths ↳ Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Lips of a Gentleman ↳ A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better The Language of Flowers ↳ Spencer prepares a personalized gift for his first date with you Level-One Intruder ↳ Spencer apprehends an unexpected but adorable trespasser

Comfort

Deepest Fear ↳ Spencer wakes from a nightmare and you comfort him Out of Sunshine ↳ Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Have Your Cake ↳ Spencer notices a change in you that he tries to address Time is a Fickle Thing ↳ Spencer realizes how important it is to occupy the present and be active in the little things

Mini Series

A Series of Happenstance [1] ↳ Spencer Reid x House!Daughter!Reader One Single Thread of Gold [1] [2] ↳ Spencer Reid x Fashion!Reader

Series

Entangled Strings of Fate - Fem!OC x Spencer [ongoing] Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates itself. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Trope - Friends to Lovers; Eventual Romance Last update - Sept 26 [chapter 8] ; Next update - tba

Yours Truly, Romeo - Fem!OC x Spencer [finished] Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing. Trope - Strangers to Lovers, Mystery, Romance

Requests.

💗 fluff || 💥 angst || 💧hurt/comfort

Hallucinate 💗 ↳ Spencer gets in one accident and thinks you are more than a friend. He believes you're his wife. Blackout 💗 ↳ Spencer finds you passed out on the bathroom floor Phantasmagoria 💗 ↳ Due to an injury, you mistakenly believe Spencer's your husband Birds of a Feather 💗 ↳ Spencer catches you drawing him and he shyly poses for it Bundle of Nerves 💗 ↳ You pass out during work hours and Spencer worriedly rushes to see you Ice Princess 💗 ↳ You take down an unsub and the team finds out a truth about you Sentencing 💗💧 ↳ Spencer (and team) support you during a court hearing His 💗💥 ↳ You visit Spencer in prison and he reacts to the lewd remarks thrown your way Cherished 💗 ↳ Spencer arrives home to a very sweet surprise Down Under 💗 ↳ Spencer questions your colorful vocabulary and it's meaning Cocoa Powder 💗 ↳ While Spencer is in prison, you discover a secret Eden 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer worries for his roommate [based on 'Eden' by Hozier] Curveball 💗 ↳ Spencer proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub Special Diet 💗 ↳ You, a certified wine connoisseur, say no to a glass of wine and in which the team reacts to Rewriting History 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer takes you as his date to his high school reunion In the Ether 💗 ↳ You and Spencer frolic in the countryside fields Lightweight 💗 ↳ Spencer introduces you, a professional wrestler, to his found family

[ddejavvu]

for multiverse monday, maybe bodyguard!Hotch who's supposed to be watching/protecting reader (maybe a politicians daughter or something) and he catches her trying to sneak out of the window to go to a party

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

He catches you by your ankle. One minute your hands are planted firmly on the trellis outside your window, a bit dusty, but nothing terrible, and the next they're hanging down past your head in midair, a force yanking you back from inside your window.

"Aah- hey!" You stammer, writhing where you're being pulled back through your window. You hadn't anticipated being caught but you're not surprised it's Aaron that's found you, the man seems to have a sixth sense for when you're disobeying his orders.

He grabs onto your other ankle without getting kicked, twisting his arms so that you flip from your stomach to your back. He drags you the rest of the way through the window, thankful that your bed is bumped up against the wall so that you lay sprawled out over the mattress as he stares down at you, eyes narrowed and accusatory.

His silence speaks for itself, and with the way that he'd dragged you back through the window, your already too-short dress has ridden up your waist. It's bunched at your hips now, revealing a bright white pair of lacy underwear that barely hides anything from your bodyguard.

"Excuse me," You huff, hands shoving at your dress to cover yourself once more, "I was trying to escape."

Aaron's eyes narrow impossibly thinner, a muscle in his jaw tightening in annoyance as he looms over you.

"Are you fucking insane?" He asks, dropping your ankles and leaning down to brace his palms on the mattress. He's big, mean, and scary as he hovers above you, spitting mad while he bends his arms to draw himself closer to your face.

"It's my job to protect you." He reminds you, disdain clear in his voice, "And I cannot do that if you slither out the window and run off to some- what, a party?" He grabs at the cheap jewelry around your neck with a rough hand as you lay beneath him, a bottle opener strung on a chain, "You're willing to risk your safety for a few beers?"

"I-" You start, but he's not finished, leaning in even closer with every point he makes.

"-You show absolutely zero regard for your own safety," He accuses, jabbing a finger into your chest, "And even less regard for the job I was assigned. Do you understand that I will be completely responsible should something happen to you? It doesn't matter that you tried leaving without my knowledge, if you had escaped and gotten hurt it would have been my fault. You were instructed to stay here, and I don't understand why that's not good enough for you. What else do you need besides your life? What else, what do I have to do to get you to listen to me?"

With the proximity he's kept between you, barely any space at all, he hasn't noticed your legs slowly raising on either side of his torso. When he finishes with his chest heaving and his face flushed in anger, you lock your legs around his waist, and his eyes flash with something dark.

"Make me," You plead, voice weak but desperate as you reach up to cup his cheek, "Aaron, make me stay. Make me listen, give me a reason to stay."

He's still braced on the mattress, hovering above you, but the finger that had been pushing against your chest falls to your torso, his palm flat against your dress. It's rucked up your thighs again, and his hand slides around your hip, gripping you tightly.

He sighs, dipping down to press a bruising kiss to your lips, "You are impossible."

"Aaron," You gasp, skin on fire where he kisses at your jaw. His nose brushes your skin but he pulls away all too soon, reaching for something behind him while you sit up straight to chase after his touch.

"Aaron," You repeat, pleading this time, "Wait, please-"

"Lay down," He turns, snapping at you as his hand comes to push against your chest. It's forceful, it knocks your back flat to the mattress again, and you see he's retrieved a tie from his go bag that's stashed in the corner of your room. He grabs both of your wrists with the same massive hand, tugging them above your head and wrapping the tie intricately around them so that it ties both to the headboard of your bed. You're stuck, and you're thrilled to hear his deep voice continue murmuring for you.

"You are not moving from this spot for the rest of the night," He warns you, eyes dangerously dark as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, "And you'll be so sore tomorrow morning that you couldn't move if you tried, so I hope you enjoyed your freedom while you had it."

[yumeka-sxf]

According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

[cimmanonrowl]

smutshots

➙ Boyfriend: filming, breeding, implied cheating

➙ Cyber Sex: cam sex, squirting, masturbation

➙ Don’t Blame Me: Part 1 & Part 2

➙ Eat Your Young: Part 1 & Part 2

➙ Focus: DDLG & sub/dom relationship

requests

Aaron finally made a move on you

Aaron doesn’t want to corrupt you

Aaron had to make sure you stay quiet

Aaron took you on a supposedly secret date

Aaron is your muse

Aaron tries to charm your mom

Aaron wonders why your paths keep crossing

Aaron had a one-night stand with you

Aaron was a gentleman until he wasn't

Aaron helps you relate to your go-to sex song

Aaron is your bodyguard

Aaron comes home from Pakistan

fics

In the right time, maybe.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Contents: age gap, older guy x young woman relationship, angst, fluff, smut, dad’s best friend!aaron hotchner, forbidden love.

Gods & Monsters

Pairing: aaron hotchner x criminal daughter!reader

Contents: age gap, forbidden relationship, unprotected rough sex, dom/sub undertones, some fluff in between, heavy angst, vague to inaccurate crime and law enforcement details.

[bau-muffin]

“Pure Intentions”

Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: E

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1,162 Words

Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.

Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.

Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.

He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.

“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”

“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”

“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”

You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.

“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.

“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.

“You see me as the bodyguard type.”

You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”

“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.

“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”

“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”

“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”

“Mm?”

“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”

“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“

“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.

Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”

You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.

“Can you come to my desk for a second?”

You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.

You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”

“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.

“Uh-” you backed away from him.

“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”

Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.

A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“

“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.

On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.

“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.

“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”

Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”

“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.

“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.

He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.