hufflepuffhaze

[hufflepuffhaze]

2.03 | 2.05

#bridgerton

[hufflepuffhaze]

I vowed not to cry anymore If wе survived the Great War

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton is everythingggg #can’t wait to start the books soon once i finish acotar!!!

[hufflepuffhaze]

MONNNNNNN!!!!! breaking my hiatus to hype up my girl AHHHHH i loved this so much!!! your characterization of eddie is sosososososooooo perfect and i can’t wait for more st fics of yours!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Freaky Friday

Eddie Munson x Reader (she/her)

Soulmate AU

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: body swapping, low self image

Summary: waking up in the body of your soulmate is a shock, to say the least. but how quickly can you figure out who it is?

*****

No one knows who they’re meant to be with without some grand act of fate to flip their life upside down.

Y/N spent her Thursday like any other day, waking up to get ready for school, spending an ungodly amount of time making herself look, in her opinion, half-presentable. Then cramming a quick breakfast into her bag before running out the door to catch her ride - her best friend in her new car.

School was tolerable at best, nothing at all exciting. Drama as usual igniting fires all around her, but Y/N managed to stay out of it if at all possible.

As was her usual routine, Y/N also anonymously slipped copies of her calculus notes into the slots of her classmate’s locker - there was one person er class who seriously struggled and wouldn’t accept any other help, but he seemed to accept this.

In the evening, Y/N forced her way through her textbooks, microwaved some of last night’s leftovers, and closed her blinds before listening to her favorite tape on repeat until falling asleep. She drifted off into oblivion, with not a single clue as to what the next day would bring.

On Friday morning, the sun rose high and shone brightly through the open window beside her bed. Blinded by the sudden intrusion of morning, Y/N rolled over to check the time, but she was met with only confusion. Where was her clock? It was right there next to-

She sat up abruptly. This wasn’t right. Looking around, she saw nothing familiar. Whose room was she in?

She patted the space beside her and found herself to be alone. Okay. But where was she and how did she get here?

Oh no- this couldn’t be- could it?

Y/N rose to suddenly shaky legs and made her way to the streaky mirror across the room. As she neared, she closed her eyes, afraid of what the reflection would show. With her hands braced against the dresser below the mirror, she counted…

One… two… three…

and opened her eyes.

Eddie knew from the moment he regained any sense of awareness. The mattress was softer, thicker. The room was darker, smelled better. He knew where he fell asleep and this was most definitely not it. He heard the clicking of a tape player that was never shut off properly. He reached over and removed the tape. Foreigner. Huh. A Madonna tape sat nearby, the two clearly being favorites.

Next, feeling a burst of excitement, he jumped to his feet, half launching himself across the room and into the hall bathroom. His eyes widened to their peak and he let out a deep breath, one of relief and contentment, at his reflection.

One step, two steps, three steps. Y/N was out the front door, the torn backpack she had found discarded by the door tossed over her shoulder. This new identity was a challenge to adapt to. Getting ready for school - going to the bathroom, especially - took a while to figure out. She reasoned that looking and acting normal would be the best course. Until, of course, she ran into herself - or rather, her body. That would be an interesting conversation for sure.

The bus swung by and Y/N climbed aboard, doing her best to copy mannerisms of a person she rarely interacted with. She sat alone in the very back seat, staring out the window. She caught a glimpse of the curly brown hair falling just past her shoulders and twisted a strand around her finger, deep in thought.

Her attention snapped back to reality when she realized the bus driver was calling to her - not to her, to him, his name - that it was time to get off. She nodded and made her way outside then into the halls of Hawkins High.

Eddie found himself with ample time to prepare and enjoy his hot breakfast with cold orange juice. He found his new persona to be quite attractive without much time spent on fixing up his hair or face. He thought his new face was perfect the way it was, and his hair was just as soft as ever.

The honk of a horn out by the curb surprised him, and he realized that this was the first test. He ran outside, the small bag by the door and the pile of books in his arms, and up to the passenger door. He looked in and smiled, climbing in and pretending (for once) to have a best friend.

Remember to breathe, smile, laugh, and not seem too suspicious. Sounds easy enough.

Eddie walked into the school hallway and summoned his best impression of the one person he feared seeing later in the day. But it was inevitable. It was fate.

Y/N wasn’t used to the whispers, the name-calling, the avoided eye contact and obvious staring.

Eddie wasn’t used to going unnoticed, escaping the ridicule and taunting of his classmates.

Y/N wasn’t used to being looked down on by everyone around her, including teachers. They were apparently used to his careless attitude and lack of attention.

Eddie wasn’t used to having people help and support him. He wasn’t used to having pleasant interactions with everyone.

Then the time came: lunch. Where you sat and who you ate with meant everything. It couldn’t just be as simple as getting your food and enjoying it without worrying about prying eyes.

Eddie retrieved his lunch and stood staring aimlessly at our over the many heads bent over their food. Y/N retrieved her lunch and nearly dropped her food when she spotted herself not ten feet away.

She hurried over and tapped her shoulder. Eddie turned around and nearly jumped at the mirror reflection, no it was his face. It was her.

Y/N spoke first. “Do you- um, do you want to sit and, uh talk?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wide, “is that really what my voice sounds like to other people?” He was distracted. “Sorry, I mean yeah, we should, yeah we should talk.”

The two shared what should have been an awkward laugh, but was somewhat comforting. Then they walked to an empty corner table and deposited their trays before taking their seats.

Eddie felt the need to initiate this time. “Sooo, this was a surprise. Huh.”

“Definitely a surprise.” Y/N paused, not sure what to say. “So you sleep with the blinds open?” She mentally face-palmed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah the blinds are kinda broken. Sorry. You listen to Foreigner to fall asleep?”

Y/N’s turn to be slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, you know their music?”

“Pshh, do I know their music? Yes ma’am I do. At least I know you have taste in music.”

Y/N smiled at this, it was a start. “So Eddie Munson. Let’s cut to the chase. Are you- well, are you relieved or like, upset finding out that it’s me- that, you know, I’m your soulmate?” There. She said it. It was out there. The thought that had been plaguing her mind all day.

Eddie was mid-sip of his water and nearly spit it out at the question. Water dribbled down his chin and he wiped it off quickly, swallowing what was left in his mouth. “Sorry, are you serious?”

He waited, but Y/N’s nervous expression, well technically it was Eddie’s face staring back at him, but she made it look so nervous and unsure, suggested that her question was very much real.

“Sorry, you just- of course I’m relieved. You’re- well, look at you. I mean, look at me.” He swept his hand toward himself- which was really her body. “You’re like, perfect.”

Heat flooded Y/N’s face, Eddie’s cheeks turning pink. “No, I’m really not.”

“Oh stop, are you kidding? If anyone should be upset about this, it’s you. Getting stuck with someone like me isn’t exactly the dream I’m sure. We don’t have to tell anyone about this if you don’t want. When we go back to normal tomorrow we can pretend this never happened.”

Y/N had felt firsthand what it was like to be Eddie “The Freak” Munson. The taunting, the judgemental staring. It broke Y/N’s heart. She could understand why he would doubt himself like this, but hated that it was so. “Eddie, I really hope you can believe me. I’m not disappointed at all. Surprised, yes. More at the fact that this happened at all. But not upset.” She reached her hand out toward where his rested on the table. “I’m sorry, Eddie, that people treat you so horribly. You obviously don’t deserve that.”

Where their hands touched, a warmth began to spread. Eddie instinctively thought to pull away, to avoid the heartache that usually came with people being nice- it was always a trick, always a joke. But this time, he didn’t run, he didn’t hide. He kept his hand where it was. Let her slide her fingers between his, linking them further.

Eddie tilted his head down a bit before responding. “It’s not so bad, really. You get used to it. Eventually. And what they say isn’t so far from the truth. I am a freak. According to their standards. But I am who I am.” He swung his free arm out to his side in a sweeping gesture.

Y/N laughed at this, and smiled. “Well I think I like who you are.” She gave his hand one more squeeze before standing up. “Cmon, lunch is almost over. You wanna walk me to my next class?”

“I’d love to.” Eddie smiled the biggest smile and stood up, following Y/N.

After their final class of the day, Calculus, which they had together, Eddie walked Y/N to each other’s lockers, gathering their things before heading home for the day.

When they made it to Eddie’s locker, he reached inside to get what he needed. Over his shoulder, Y/N commented, “I think the hardest part of switching lives was trying to pretend like I knew what was happening in any of your classes.” Eddie looked into his locker like he was searching for something specific. “What are you looking for?” She asked.

“Oh nothing, just some-“ he turned his head and Y/N held up a piece of paper. Calculus notes. A familiar style, handwriting.

“Looking for these?” The notes she routinely snuck to him each day.

“You?”

She shrugged. “Me.”

Eddie slammed his locker shut and draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulders. “Oh I think this pairing will work out just fine.”

Y/N tipped her head back in laughter. The two strode out the door of the high school, a few eyes watching them, questioning. But for once, Eddie was proud of the stares, and Y/N appreciated the attention.

Y/N’s best friend was filled in on the switch-a-roo, and gladly volunteered to drive them both back home. They stopped at Y/N’s house first to drop Eddie off, and Y/N walked him to the door. “I may be a lady but I’m also a gentleman,” she explained at his raised eyebrow.

He took her hand in his, still barely believing it was real life. But after a few seconds, he let go. “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait to kiss you when you look like you and I look like me again. Otherwise this-“ he waved between the two “-might be weird.”

Y/N nodded her agreement, “yeah, yeah, that’s fine, that’s good. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Please.”

Eddie retreated into Y/N’s house, enjoying the evening before returning to himself.

When Y/N had made it back to Eddie’s trailer, did his homework for him and tidied up his room - respectfully, without rooting through anything too much. Then she reclined back into his bed, mind swirling with implications of todays switch.

Eddie sank down into Y/N’s cushion of a bed, reveling in the softness, the fresh smell. Then he leaned over, tapped ‘play’ and drifted into oblivion to the tune of I Want to Know What Love Is, knowing that in just a few days, he might just know for himself.

*****

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[hufflepuffhaze]

breaking my tumblr hiatus to support my sweet bestie’s ADORABLE fic 😍😍😍 can aaron just take care of me all the time?? thanks <33333 so beautifully done mon!!!!!!

The Perfect Remedy

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

summary: when the hotchners come down with the flu, you’re the one who steps up to help

warnings: sickness/flu symptoms, mentions of food

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i’m not sure where this came from, but here it is nonetheless. a little comfort (reverse comfort?) fic since the virus is rearing it’s ugly head again 🥰

*****

There are some people who, when the phone rings, you pick up no matter what the inconvenience. Some calls just simply can’t wait. And that’s why you simply couldn’t ignore your phone when the screen lit up and Aaron Hotchner’s name and photo appeared on the caller ID.

You lifted the phone to your ear and used your shoulder to hold it up while you continued browsing the shelves of the grocery store. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“Y/N, I’m-“ he leaned away from the phone, but you could hear the cough distinctively. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to make it to our date tonight. I think I’m coming down with something.” You could hear it in his voice already.

“Hey, that’s okay. If you’re not feeling well, you need to rest. There will be other movies, but there’s only one you.”

“I know you were looking forward to tonight-“

You snagged a can of broth off of the shelf a little more aggressively than you intended at his stubbornness. “Aaron, stop that. Stay home and rest. Is Jack any better?” He had been sick the past two days already, so it was only a matter of time before he passed it to his father.

“Still not feeling well, but I think he’ll turn the corner soon. At least I hope so.”

“Well at least you can keep each other company.” You strolled down the aisle and collected a bag of egg noodles, tossing them into your cart. “Promise me you’re going to rest?” It was a long shot, but that man needed to take it easy on a normal day, so a sick day was even more important.

“I promise I’ll try. But you know how Jack is, he keeps me on my toes.” Even through the nasally congestion, you could hear the smile that crept across his face. Sometimes you wondered if it was the other way around.

*

It took you no time at all to put together your plan for the evening. As soon as you heard Aaron’s voice, you had no other choice and wante to do nothing else. So that’s how you found yourself outside his door with a bag of groceries in one hand and a tote bag of activities over the other shoulder. You knocked a few times and waited patiently, knowing his sick body might move a little slower.

Finally, the door swung open and there he stood. He was dressed comfortably in loose sweatpants and a t-shirt, exhaustion etched into his features. Surprise was also written across his face, as he hadn’t expected to find you on his doorstep.

“What are you doing here?” He couldn’t hide his pleasure at seeing you, despite his cancelling the date earlier.

You held up the reusable grocery bag and replied, “I thought about it some more, and you promised me a night of dinner and a movie. So I brought dinner and a movie to you.” You flashed him your signature smile and had no idea how much it warmed his heart.

“You didn’t have to- Y/N, what if you get sick, too?” He said while he moved aside to let you in. He so obviously appreciated you coming but didn’t want to seem like he was hoping you would show.

“Oh darn, you mean I’ll need someone to keep me company and maybe look after me for a few days? If only there was someone out there I could count on to do that.” A nudge to his shoulder made it clear that you were teasing. And the soft grin you got in return was a good sign.

“Dad?” Jack came dawdling around the corner, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah buddy, I’m right here.” He cleared his mucus-coated throat. “Look who came to see us.”

Jack’s face lit up when he saw you, cutting through the misery of sick exhaustion that weighed on him. Despite his ailment, you took a step toward him and opened your arms to invite him in for a hug, which he happily accepted. He squeezed you tight and you knew he was seeking any comfort he could through the discomfort of his breathing. “How are you feeling, little man?” You pulled away and brushed your hand over his head.

“My head feels like it weighs too much to stay up and my stomach doesn’t feel good either.” It just about broke your heart to hear it, but you knew he was in rough shape.

“Well, I think I have just the remedy for an upset stomach and a stuffy head. You like chicken noodle soup, right?” He nodded fervently. “Good, because I happen to have the ingredients for my world-famous soup right here, in this bag.” You tapped the bag for emphasis.

When you stood up, you made your way straight to the kitchen to get the process started. You had this recipe down to a science. Once you had it mostly prepared, you initiated phase two of your plan.

Walking out to the living room where Aaron and Jack were resting on the sofa with a rerun of Spongebob on the tv, you pulled a few items out of your tote bag. “Okay boys, dinner is almost ready, so that means it’s time to choose the movie for tonight.” You held up three options. “Brother Bear, A Goofy Movie, or Happy Feet?”

“I don’t think I have the energy for a singalong tonight, how about you?” Aaron nudged his son to gauge his response, and he was met with agreement.

“Okay, so we’ll save A Goofy Movie for another time, once you’re both better.”

“Happy Feet, please.” Leave it to Jack to make the decision.

“Happy Feet it is.” You carried the disc to the DVD player and let Aaron handle the remote while you finished with dinner.

Perfectly spiced and piping hot, the chicken noodle soup was finally ready and you wasted no time in filling three bowls. Carefully, you carried them in and laid them on the coffee table while you retrieved the spoons and napkins, plus the sleeve of crackers was a must. With everything laid out neatly, you took your place on the end of the sofa beside Aaron.

As the movie played, you found joy in hearing the gentle giggles and seeing the contented smiles on both of the boys beside you. Jack was fully immersed in the film, a very welcome distraction from the aches and pains of sickness.

When bowls had been discarded onto the table for dealing with later, you tucked your feet up underneath of you and let Aaron’s arm fold you up against him. You felt an instant comfort when around him, the closer the better. Despite his sickness, he pressed a quick kiss to your temple and whispered into your ear, “thank you for all of this. For just coming.”

You turned to look at him better, then whispered back so as not to disturb the movie-watching, “hey, I’m happy to be here to take care of my two boys. You’re so good to me and I love you both. If you thought being sick would chase me away, think again, buddy. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You winked cheekily before pressing your lips against his. It was short and sweet, just what both of you needed.

The rest of the movie went by fairly quickly and soon enough, you were gathering the dinner bowls for cleaning. When everything was put away, you gathered the rest of your things and headed toward the door. But not before saying goodnight to Jack as he tottered off to bed, sleep already written in his eyes.

With the door wide open, you bid your goodbyes to Aaron as well. “Goodnight, get some good rest. I’ll check in in the morning. Oh and I left some tea bags and honey on the counter for you.”

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything. What did I do to deserve you?”

You answered his rhetorical question with a goodnight kiss and made your way home to your own bed.

But lo and behold, two days later after another day of rest and leftover soup and tea, Aaron Hotchner, fully recovered and on his way to work, felt a prolonged buzzing from his pocket and retrieved his phone only to see your name lit across the screen. A call from you could hardly go ignored, so he quickly lifted the phone to his ear.

“It must be my lucky day to hear from you this early. Is everything okay?”

With the first sound of your gravelly voice, he knew immediately what was wrong. “I know we promised to share everything, but you could have kept this to yourself.” Your sentence was punctuated with a sharp cough.

“Say no more, I’m on my way.”

With a quick text to his team that he needed one more day to recover, he turned his car around and headed straight for your place. Thanks to you, he knew the perfect remedy for a sick day like this.

*****

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[hufflepuffhaze]

ICONIC AS ALWAYS QUEEN 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 LOVED THIS SO MUCH <33333

Horror House or Home

aaron hotchner x bau!reader

spooky season special 🎃

summary: things take a turn when the team investigates the infamous halloween killer’s house

wc: 4k (oooooops it got long)

warnings: (mentions of Michael Myers and things related to his tale) mentions of murder, fear, mention of knives, mentions of dried blood, mentions of death, descriptions of darkness

a/n: maybe i should make it a tradition to write stories that take place in michael myers house since this is the second year i’ve done it oops. anyway, i love halloween and the michael myers story so here ya go. also I cut it close but I still got it out before halloween ended woohoo 🎃

*****

Halloween night. The moon is full and at its brightest. There is a chill in the air, one that sends a shiver down your spine with the spike of the breeze. With a deep inhale, a calmness settles over you with the distinct scent of the outdoors as the fall foliage falls around you. Although at this late hour, the leaves are simple silhouettes and shadows crossing your vision.

All eyes are focused on the crumbling home in front of you and for a few minutes, nothing but silence rests amongst the bodies gathered on the cracked sidewalk. You are the first to break the silence. “Who wants to go first?” But you understand the silence that ensues and take it upon yourself to take that first tentative step.

When a hand lightly grips your upper arm, holding you back, you turn to look at the person who stopped you. Aaron Hotchner.

He may be your boss, but something about the protective way he pushes himself forward and past you to enter the forbidden house sends a shiver over your skin. You wish you could deny the flutter in your chest from his touch. He’s your boss for crying out loud.

Silently, Hotch leads the way up the rickety steps onto the dilapidated porch and right up to the front door. The door is unlocked, and has been since the lot was declared public property a few years ago. No one with a will to live voluntarily enters the home for fear of the mortifying tales that come from anyone who has dared to enter. Although most of those tales have come from friends and family since the ones who go in so seldom come back out.

One by one the members of the BAU tread carefully over the aged wood and cross the threshold into the house. With the last pair of feet inside, the door is closed behind you. Darkness swallows you alive.

For a few seconds, you let the dark and the silence sink into your bones. From a few feet away, you hear Derek’s hushed voice speak out into the deep. “So what do we do now?”

You flick a flashlight on, the hand-sized light that you were gripping tightly. Immediately, the entryway is enveloped in light and you take one glance around your group. Emily is already taking stock of her surroundings, taking in the shabby state of the building. JJ is blinking away the blindness from the sudden brightness while Spencer backs away from the spider-web-infested wall he had unknowingly brushed against. While Derek is already slinking away to inspect the nearby rooms, Dave and Aaron are clearly questioning their decisions to join the group on their haunted escapade.

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves for the next - actually, the first - phase of the fright night everyone wanted.

“Welcome to the Myers House.” You swing your arms out to the side in a grand gesture of introduction. Your announcement is met with silence and curious stares from the others. “In the year 1963, a six year old boy named Michael Myers came home to this very house, went upstairs and brutally stabbed his older sister. He was incarcerated for 15 years before escaping from the mental institution and murdered three teenagers just blocks from this very house. And every few years, he rears his ugly masked head and murders again and again. And always on Halloween night.”

“But to-tonight is Halloween night.” Spencer stammers from beside you, an unmistakable tremor to his voice.

“You love Halloween, Spence. Don’t try to deny it.” You turn to address the others. You let your voice drop low and slow, focusing on the fear-inducing delivery. “Now we stand in the hallway of the house destined for death and decay. Who will leave, and who will stay? Give in to the fright, or survive the night?”

A slow clap echoes through the room and surprised expressions turn to face the source. Dave Rossi is smiling as he claps his hands together. “Very convincing, Y/N. You’ve got us all properly shaking in our boots.”

“It’s not me, Rossi. It’s the house.” You turn to Derek. “Now we explore.”

Breaking into pairs, you divide and conquer, exploring the depths of the home of a killer. You are paired with Hotch, and there’s no denying the excitement coursing through you. JJ takes Derek and Dave by the arms and guides them away, while Emily and Spencer take off in the opposite direction, Spencer already voicing his concerns with the condition and stability of the house.

You choose to begin your search of the house by remaining on the first floor. The living room and the kitchen are too tempting to begin to understand the life of a child killer.

Once the others disappear to their respective areas to explore, the main floor of the house is all but silent, save for a few muffled footsteps from above or the distant sound of voices seeking to break the eerie silence with light hearted humor.

You wander away from your partner to have a closer look at the kitchen, inspecting the layout of the room, the horribly ugly wallpaper that you can’t imagine was attractive even in the house’s prime. You open a few drawers, curious as to what may have been laying inside, forgotten, for all these years. Mostly, your curiosity is filled with disappointment at the empty state of the drawers and cupboards. But then you find something that makes your skin crawl.

As you slide the final drawer open, the beam from your flashlight glints dully off of the single occupant of the space. A weathered, stained, and deadly knife. With a blade two inches wide and at least six inches long and an old wooden handle, this had clearly been here for quite a while. Oh how you want to simultaneously lift it up and inspect it further, completely intrigued by its presence, while also wanting to be rid of the thing altogether. You have no idea what this instrument may have been used for in the past. Was it simply a kitchen knife, one that Mrs. Myers would have used to prepare dinner for a family, for her son who would soon be the one to take her daughter’s life?

“What did you find?” Aaron asks from the other side of the room. He approaches you slowly. He peers over your shoulder and catches sight of the potentially deadly weapon. Deadly in the right - or wrong - hands. His eyes grow wide, although you don’t see because your eyes are still glued to the item before you.

Despite your conscience screaming at you, you reach into the drawer and retrieve the knife, holding it up into the light of your flashlight. “This must be the knife he used to slay his sister.” You whisper eerily, letting your eyes drift sideways where you could meet Aaron’s gaze. “I can feel something…” a slight panic fills your tone as you turn the knife over in your hand.

You can feel Aaron tense from behind you, his breathing catches and his focus is on you and only you. You continue, “I feel… eeeeviiillll.” You hold the knife out in front of you. You grin with a sly smile and your boss shakes his head at you and turns away, heading back toward the living room. You call after him, “oh come on, it’s just a knife. Someone probably planted it here to freak people out.” You laugh as you follow Hotch into the other room.

You hear a padding of footsteps through the upstairs hallway and suspect your friends are moving to another room to look around. Hotch walks over to the front window, facing out toward the street. The faint glow of streetlights filters in through the wooden boards haphazardly thrown up over the window frame. You only now realize that the glass panes from the windows are no longer there, explaining the chill that runs down your spine as the breeze slips through those narrow gaps between boards.

Aaron peers out through one of those gaps. He is contemplative in his posture, like he gets when he’s intently studying a crime map or a case file. Then he speaks out, slow, yet unmenacing. “We’ve dealt with plenty of sociopaths, psychopaths, murderers and abusers. But for a child to do what he did, it doesn’t make sense.”

Now it’s your turn to slowly approach the man who stares so seriously out the window. You stand beside him, looking out the way he is. You take a breath and respond. “I don’t think they ever understood him, not even with the years of research and therapy. I know I joke about the whole “haunted” house thing, but what happened here, and what that man did to so many people years later, it’s nothing short of a tragedy.”

“Jack is his age. I can’t-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, he feels the warmth of your touch through his raglan sweater. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but Jack is not Michael Myers, Hotch. Don’t even begin to think like that. Don’t let the horrors of this place skew your perception of your life, your son.” You suddenly feel a guilt press on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have made the night seem quite so serious, so creepy. You had no idea it would get to your boss, the man you so looked up to.

He turns to look at you, a glisten in his eye, like a tear that might never fall is sitting just in the corner of his eye, torturing him. The silence presses between you as the streetlamp shines a subtle glow over you both. Half of his face is in shadow, but the half that you can see is clearly thinking too deeply, letting the darkness of the house get to him. You take his hand in yours, wondering after the fact if maybe you were crossing an unspoken boundary. Yet something about your hand slipping into his in this moment feels right, so you do it. “Why don’t we go upstairs and look around? Change of scenery, we can join the others if you think that would help lighten things up.” When he doesn’t immediately pull his hand away, your heart skips a single beat. Instead, he walks with you toward the stairwell, peering up at the upstairs landing totally enveloped in a deep black.

“We don’t need to join the others, but we should see the rest of the house.”

“Just promise you won’t spend the whole night profiling this guy. We’re off duty and he’s been dead and gone for years.” You give his hand a light squeeze and begin the climb.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you look around and choose the first room to explore. It’s a simple bedroom, scarcely furnished and what is in the room is badly weathered and falling apart. The bed would likely collapse under normal body weight, the dresser drawers are most definitely warped and the mirror in the corner is cracked and filthy. But other than a vast collection of dust bunnies, the room is otherwise uneventful. So you move on.

But as you pass through the hall again, something catches your eye. A slender string dangling mysteriously in the middle of the walkway. Although at first it catches you off guard, you quickly realize the string is attached to an attic door.

At your hesitation to move, Aaron follows your gaze and reaches up to pull the string. As the hatch opens, a ladder descends slowly and then stops. With its age, the two of you together have to pull the ladder down until it reaches the ground. You both gaze curiously, skeptically up at the attic. While you thought earlier that the top of the stairs on the second floor were deep and dark and even dangerous, the pitch black of the attic space was even more daunting.

This was the ultimate opportunity for exploration, how many people had dared to ascend such a questionable ladder and take a peek into the storage space of such an infamous family, an infamous killer?

Hotch pulls his hand from yours, the cold of the house instantly replacing the warmth from his hold. He reaches forward and grasps the sides of the ladder, lifting himself up to move up one rung at a time. You watch nervously from below. But as he reaches the top and hoists himself into the dark, body completely shrouded in mystery and shadow, you put your foot on the bottom rung and begin the climb.

Aaron flicks on his light and takes a glance around the room he had, not wisely, but willingly brought himself into. While you climb, he inspects the space, hardly a room at all. He remains slightly hunched over due to the low height of the ceiling, yet he continues his search for anything worth sharing. Nothing but old boxes, nearly disintegrated with age and mildew, a few spare bolts of fabric, and an old cedar chest occupy the crawl space above the home.

He chooses the cedar chest just as you climb your way in and adjust your eyes to the lighting. Coughing and spluttering in the stirred up dust, you join your partner and peer inside the now-open chest.

An old mask, once white, now dirty gray and very worn, lay inside. You recognize it immediately. “Michael’s mask,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. But who would have brought it here, and why?

The mask is the sole inhabitant of the chest, eliciting even more questions as to why it’s here and what it means.

“Why would this be here? Like someone is preserving it?” Hotch voices one of those many questions running circles around your mind. The mask, although badly stained and damaged from wear, was laying carefully in the middle of the bottom of the chest and the inside walls and floor of the chest were kept dust-free, clean. Like someone paid careful attention to this box out of all pieces in the house. You simply shake your head, unable to conjure a reasonable answer. Why would someone store this god-forsaken mask here, why not burn it or destroy it somehow?

A sudden disturbance begins sinking into your bones. Like coming here was maybe not the best idea. As you sit crouched in this dingy corner of a dilapidated attic crawl space, you feel the weight of the darkness surrounding you, of the silence that had fallen on the house.

You both wordlessly descend back down the ladder and back to the second floor hallway. But again, that feeling of uneasiness settles in again. You hold up a hand and prompt Aaron to stay quiet as you listen carefully.

You hear nothing.

Absolutely nothing. Save for your own nervous breathing.

“What’s wrong, what do you hear?” Hotch’s confused expression suggests he doesn’t know what you’re so focused on.

You turn to face him, your eyes narrow in concern. “Nothing. That’s the problem. There are five other people in this house and I don’t hear anything.”

Now that you mentioned it, Hotch couldn’t hear anything either. And with the group you had come with, they couldn’t possibly stay this quiet.

Your eyes dart side to side before landing on the stairwell. Together, you descend, first Aaron, then yourself. Each footstep feels like a thundering boom amongst the utter silence around you.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, you seem to fall back into an investigative rhythm, each of you branching off to check the nearby rooms of the first floor. But meeting back by the front door, you are empty-handed. No sign of anyone else. The basement is the only place left unchecked. They aren’t upstairs, they aren’t on the main floor, what could they be doing down in the basement?

You find the basement door, slightly ajar. Peering down the even more rickety stairs than any others in the house, you find yourself peering into utter darkness. No surprise in a house with no power, but not even a flashlight can be seen from the top of the stairs.

“Morgan? JJ? Emily?” You call down the stairs, louder than a whisper, but in the silence, even a regular tone seems like shouting.

You’re met with silence.

You exchange one final glance with Aaron before you lead the way down the steps. One foot at a time, slowly, checking each step’s stability before resting your full weight down.

Upon reaching the bottom, you sweep your flashlight across the room, seeking anything out of the ordinary. As you step carefully through the room, Aaron falls into step beside you. Both of you are fully baffled by the absence of the people you had come here with tonight.

Suddenly, a crate from just behind you falls over and crashes to the floor and the door upstairs swings closed. Already on edge, the sudden noise causes you to jump and you grab ahold of Hotch’s arm. Your fingers dig into his skin without even noticing. But once you realize it must have been a gust of wind through the slatted windows upstairs, you relax and ease your grip. But you don’t let go.

You step closer to him as you continue weaving your way through the basement, the dirt floor and somehow even dirtier walls setting quite the uncomfortable environment. Something about his presence offers a sliver of comfort in such an uncomfortable place.

Again, Aaron makes no move away, in fact he welcomes your proximity and leans into the warmth your body radiates in the chilly basement. The dark seems to eat away at the pathetic beams of lights you shine around.

Finally, your light falls on something peculiar, no frightening, and you let out an uncharacteristic shriek, dropping your light as you take a step backward.

A slumped over form on the ground that resembles your dear friend and colleague Spencer lay prone in the back corner of the room. You recognize the sweater you gifted him for Christmas last year.

You don’t dare to speak it out loud, unwilling to speak it into truth, but your heart rate spikes dramatically at the sight.

Aaron takes your hand and pulls you along behind him, and you take note of the way he keeps you behind him as if shielding you from whatever it is.

You fear the worst as you approach. But just then, a loud bang sounds from the stairwell and you freeze. Hotch turns to look for answers and when you hear his breath catch, you realize that now you fear the worst. You turn too.

A menacing, rigid form descends the stairs, body in shadow yet white mask utterly unmistakable. You think fast and shine your light at the form and you feel your heart drop. Sickeningly slow footsteps accentuate the threatening nature. Your flashlight beam glistens off of something in his right hand. You know instantly.

The knife from the drawer upstairs.

You rise so you’re standing, Aaron doing the same, you don’t let your light leave the stairwell. When the masked man reaches the bottom of the stairs, he turns to face you. Another chill traces over your body. You take a step backward and your foot hits the body behind you. You shudder at the connection but don’t dare to look.

Slowly and slowly the man takes one step closer to you, then another.

Aaron pulls your arm and you step around the body at your feet. If you had looked down, you would have seen exactly what it was, but you kept your eyes glued to the masked murderer who was so known for disappointing in a fraction of a second.

Until now, neither of you dared to speak. But Aaron addresses the threatening figure. “Very funny guys, joke’s over.” The man simply tilts his head to the side, like he’s trying to understand the joke. But he does not stop moving closer, step by step. Maybe it wasn’t a joke like your boss thought.

You look to your side and see a few boxes stacked precariously along the wall, but if you cut wide, you could possibly skirt the trouble and race to the steps.

You weigh the options. Stay here and attempt to fight off a potential killer, one known not to lose his fights. Or try to run and possibly make it out alive. Chasing unsubs was nothing compared to staring down a unkillable monster.

You make the decision and push Hotch in the direction you want to run. He moves on his own and you race to the left, around and out of reach of the knife. As you run, you take your eyes just briefly from the man and don’t see when he drops the knife and lunges toward you.

His hands make contact and your shoved sideways, right into Aaron. You attempt to keep your footing, but fall in a heap right on top of your boss. When you fall, you feel his arms around you, bracing your own fall with no regard for his own body. You fall right into the stack of boxes and they crumble beneath your body weight, empty. As you move to get back up, you hear an unexpected noise ring out through the room.

Laughter.

It takes a moment to register, but then you peer curiously at the masked figure standing a few feet away, doubled over in laughter.

You recognize that voice, all too familiar.

“Derek, what the hell?!” You breathe heavily as you yell at him, furious that it really was him.

Aaron’s hands tighten around your waist as you go to sit up, still mostly in his lap in the bed of cardboard underneath you. You let your head fall back in exasperation and it lands lightly on his shoulder. You lean further into him in relief.

Suddenly, the basement door bursts open and more cackling fills the room. Emily, Dave, and JJ descend to join the party. More flashlights flood the room in light, chasing out most of the shadows.

Then you hear the final voice join the cacophony. From across the room, Spencer emerges from a corner pocket of the room that was easily hidden. He is wearing an undershirt and no sweater, so you do a double take at the figure on the ground. Hay is spilling out of the seams of the scarecrow dressed to resemble your resident genius.

“What the hell is going on here?” You look from face to face, seeking answers as to what you had just experienced.

They erupt in another round of laughter and you get nothing from them. So you look to your side and say, “Spencer, I thought you were dead!”

“Yeah that was a pretty good idea, wasn’t it? I didn’t think I could keep from laughing so I used a scarecrow instead.” He speaks through giggles and you are finding yourself begin to ease up, the tension finally lifting.

“Why?” Hotch creases his brows.

“We wanted to see how you guys would react.” Emily speaks so plainly, like it’s obvious. But it isn’t, not to you. “I mean, just look at you.”

You do as she says and look at yourself and sudden realization hits you. The arm around your waist, the position you were in on the floor. The flush that rushed to Aaron’s cheeks as he, too, came to the same conclusion.

You want to be angry, but the warmth you feel won’t allow it. You put your hand on the ground beside you and Aaron slyly slides his down to cover yours and give it a squeeze. You smile to yourself and then realize that everyone is watching, they know, they knew. They arranged it all, the mask in the attic, the knife in the kitchen, the sudden disappearances and the mysterious noises. And you couldn’t help but be thankful.

Other than being scared out of your mind, maybe it wasn’t such a horrible night.

*****

All: @jellyfishbeansontoast @makebank @astrydis @gloryekaterina @outerbankslut @miraclesoflove

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#mon<3 #hotchhh #cm #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds

[hufflepuffhaze]

City Walk

Pairing: MGG x fem!Reader

Summary: buying a house in the town of Salem, Massachusetts requires walks with the man of your dreams.

Content warnings: food mentions, talks of witchcraft& the Salem witch trials, coffee mentions, buying a house (?). [let me know if I missed anything]

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: any negative messages will be immediately blocked.

…

Buying a house is terrifying. Buying a house with the love of your life is even more terrifying. Strictly for the fact that it was a huge step in a relationship. However, as we set the last piece of silverware in the drawer, I’d never felt more content with my life.

For Matthew, this was house number three. For me, this was house number one. Our house. When we talked about moving in, I had mentioned that I wanted to live in a place with seasons. While winter isn’t my favorite thing ever, fall was something I loved. Sweaters, pumpkins and colourful leaves galore. It made me happy, and all Matthew wanted was to see me happy.

“Perfect. This place absolutely perfect,” I mutter as I bumped the drawer closed with my hip.

He laughs and kisses my cheek, “it’s because you decorated it.”

I turn in his arms, nuzzling into his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. He smells like cinnamon, old books and home. “No. It’s because it is ours. Because we get to live here together.” I pick my head up and smile at the man of my dreams.

“Would you like to go explore the town we live in?” He asks as he kisses my forehead. I nod and squeeze him, something I do when I feel overwhelmed with love. It’s the feelings of loving him so much I was to kill him? But not literally.

…

Fall in Massachusetts was something everyone in their lives needed to see. Though, most travel to New Hampshire. Massachusetts had its own beauty that begged to be seen, appreciated. Salem had history that thrived in the fall months, mixed with pretty fall leaves, made for a great day.

We started with coffee, going to one of the local coffee shops in town center. It was cute, a quaint little shop that was filled with locals looking for an afternoon pick me up. The gray clouds slowly being swallowed by the sun.

I help my hot coffee in one hand, Matthews in the other as we left. He had yet to be stopped by anyone and I found it a little strange. But it was midweek and school was in session. I wasn’t going to question it, nor was I going to jinx it. It was rare we got an outing where it was simply me and him.

I looped my arm with his as we walked, my head resting on his shoulder as we took a side road, the wind starting pick up slightly. October in Salem was a busy month, more so on the weekends, but it didn’t stop people from skipping work and school to visit.

“This is one of the old cemeteries,” Matthew says when we pass the iron gates. The stones are old and weathered. A chill runs down my spine as we pass, it’s almost as if I can feel the sadness that lurks.

Salem, Massachusetts was home to the Salem Witch Trials. You know, where two little girls accused people of being witches and then got their friends involved. And also how everyone just believed them because they had money? Yeah, that. And while the story is incredibly true, and incredibly sad, the little town loves the history. Not in a weird way. Just in a ‘this happened here and we wont let it happen again’ way. It was one of the many reasons that I wanted to live here.

“This is the memorial. The name of all those killed are etched into the stone seats. There is one for each person.” He says as we walk closer. And he’s right. Each stone seat has the persons name, how they died, and their death date. Flowers are laid at each stone from guests, some leaving prayers and notes for the dead.

I scrunch my nose, “it’s sad. All because two girls ate some bad bread.” It makes him laugh but he quickly covers it with a cough. He never wants to be disrespectful, that’s not in his character, but I joke when I’m uncomfortable and he knows that.

He pulls me towards the house that sits on the land. It’s small, he has to duck so he doesn’t hit his head. There are, realistically, two rooms besides the kitchen and sitting area. I think about the house we just moved in to. You could fit three of this size home into ours. I’m grateful.

“These beds don’t look all that comfortable,” I whisper to him.

He smiles just a little, “we have definitely made improvements in the mattress game over the past 300 or so years.”

…

We paid our respects to those who were killed wrongly before deciding to do a little shopping. Salem capitalized on what happened there. And I loved it. Respectfully of course. The shops were named after witches, or the earth.

“This one!” I point to a little crystal store, taking his hand and pulling him in with me. It was empty but I felt at home there. The crystals shined in the lights that shown on them. “Look how pretty this one is!” I held up a quartz in the shape of a cat.

He took it from me, examining it closely “very beautiful. But not as beautiful as you.” I feel my face heat up at that. He loved to compliment me, let me know every day how much he loved me and how much he appreciated me. No man ever made me feel like he did. He loved me and he made it known.

“Ever the gentleman,” I purr at him. I decide to buy it, finding it would look beautiful in the house.

…

We ate lunch at this small restaurant. The food absolutely delicious. And then we decided it was time for a walk. We lived by the river, something he wanted more than anything. I couldn’t lie, seeing the sun set over the river was something I’d never get used too.

He held my hand, his warming my cold fingers from the autumn air. The beautiful red and orange sky reflecting from the water and on to his face. It’s beautiful. He is beautiful.

“Thank you,” I mutter, breaking the silence.

I fell his eyes on me and my suspicions are confirmed when I look up, “for what, bunny?”

“Loving me. Being you. Giving me this opportunity.” It isn’t lost on me that this opportunity is only because my lover is rich. One that most wont be able to have.

He kisses the back of my hand, “of course. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else but my bunny”

I smile at my little nickname and look out onto the lake, the wind nipping at my skin. The lake is full of color from the setting sun and the beautiful leaves that have fallen. I felt like I belonged here. But if I’m being honest, so long as he is with me, I would feel like I belonged anywhere.

...

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#THIS WAS SO SWEET #mgg #mgg x reader

[hufflepuffhaze]

BESTIE THIS WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!! ((as always omg)) 🥰🥰🥰 your characterization of the bau is always top notch 🤌🏼🤌🏼

Almost Perfect Secret

aaron hotchner x reader

request: @missmemoire09 - aaron & y/n are secretly dating and jack is the one that spills the beans

warnings: secret dating, fluff

wc: 2.3k

a/n: this was so precious to write, thank you so much for this request. again, i didn’t mean to write so much but it just flowed out 🤷‍♀️ i hope you enjoy 💕

**

The lights were dazzling and the mood was exquisite. It was the perfect night to celebrate two, no three people who had wound their way into your heart. JJ was breathtaking in her elegant gown and Will was as handsome as could be, eyes alight with adoration for his bride. And of course, Henry was a show-stopper in his dapper little suit. There were very few things that could make this night better, yet one of them was sitting not two feet from you, desire coursing through him with no way of expressing without risking revealing the relationship you had worked so hard to hide.

Aaron Hotchner always looked good in your eyes, but with the lights just right and love positively radiating through the yard, he was something out of a dream. And a dream it would have to stay for a while longer. You paced your lingering stares so as not to seem suspicious, he limited his interactions with you to attempt to keep the two of you sane, but it was beginning to have the opposite effect.

During the ceremony, you sat with Jack in between the two of you, a solution you thought to be genius. But as the ceremony drew on and Jack’s energy waned, he leaned his head over against you and you instinctively tucked him under your arm like you would on any normal night in his apartment which you frequently visited. It wasn’t until he was settled in that you realized what you had done and you just hoped that all attention was on the bride and groom so your own predicament might go unnoticed.

Then to combat the fear of discovery, you and Aaron kept your distance for the majority of the night. You mingled with the others and paid no (or little) attention to the devilishly handsome man across the patio. When the music began playing, you grabbed Emily and dragged her to the area set aside for dancing, losing yourself in the upbeat tunes that were doing wonders as distractions. You imbibed regularly in refreshments, which meant the restroom trips were also more frequent than you would have preferred.

In all honesty, you missed being able to sit next to Hotch, swing your leg over his, or even just talk to him without worrying about how your facial expression might give away your feelings for him.

When the first of many slow songs played, you were quick to grab ahold of Derek’s arm, claiming him as your first dance partner. He obliged happily and you swept over the floor gracefully, keeping comfortable chatter while you moved.

But as the song ended and you made your way back to a seat for a rest, you noticed a bit of movement out of the corner of your eye and looked up just in time to see Jack bounding up to you.

“Y/N, Y/N! Are you okay?” He asked, eyes big and full of concern. You immediately leaned forward and took his hands, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“What do you mean, Jack? I’m just fine. Are you okay?” You asked in return, seeking any sort of understanding.

He looked over his shoulder at his father standing not too far away, then turned back to you. “Are you sad? Or are you mad at my dad?” His words were clear but you still could not quite comprehend what was going on.

“Why would I be mad at him?”

He scrunched his eyebrows and looked over your shoulder. Spencer and Penelope had noticed the excitement of the boy and were intrigued, so they came to stand behind your chair. But that didn’t stop Jack from answering your question. “You usually sit with him and he holds your hand, like last night. But you didn’t sit with him for dinner, and you didn’t dance with him either.”

His words were like an avalanche, impossible to stop and capable of taking your breath away. You shook your head lightly as if to silently beg him to stop, but he was just a kid, and no one could stop a kid from their rambles.

“Umm Jack, are you hungry? Or thirsty?” You leaned over toward the table to grab anything that could distract him from his train of thought. But you weren’t fast enough.

“Wait. Jack, what were you saying? What about last night?” Penelope hadn’t missed a beat, she was leaning down to encourage him to continue where you were hoping for the whole thing to drop. You looked behind you and shot daggers her way and she simply stared at you in confusion.

Jack was unfazed by the emotional rollercoaster he had unknowingly sent you on. “You always cuddle with daddy and you said you love to dance with him. And with me.” His eyes glossed over and you realized your mistake. Sudden guilt almost knocked you out of your chair. This boy was so used to seeing the way you acted around him and his father, when it was just the three of you, that he didn’t understand why you couldn’t behave the same way around your coworkers.

Still holding his tiny hands in yours, you gave them a gentle squeeze and smiled at him. You were mildly aware of the shocked expressions you were sure were adorning the faces of your friends behind you. It didn’t take a genius to piece it together, but of course one of them had to be one anyway. Then you leaned forward and whispered to Jack, “I’m not mad at you or your dad, bud. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. How about you and I dance together next?”

He nodded excitedly and pulled you off your seat and to the makeshift dance floor. While you danced, you couldn’t help but take a few curious glances around the room only to find your eavesdropping friends had rejoined the others and you could just imagine what they were saying.

As soon as you were whisked away, Spencer and Penelope shared one knowing glance before beelining for the others. Derek and Emily were seated at another table resting their feet and quenching their thirst.

“Um did any of you guys know about Y/N and Hotch?” Penelope was far too excited about her recent discovery and simply could not hold it in.

Derek’s brows lifted in question. “What about Y/N and Hotch?”

“That they’re… ya know… together?”

“What?!” Emily and Derek simultaneously responded, quite loudly. The raise in volume grabbed Dave’s attention from his conversation with JJ nearby, so they joined the small huddle too. Then Emily continued, “How do you know this?”

“Know what?” Rossi asked, inserting himself.

“That Y/N and Hotch are dating, or something.” Spencer filled them in.

Then Garcia answered Emily’s question. “We have Jack to thank for letting the cat out of the bag. He thought Y/N was mad at Hotch because they weren’t holding hands or cuddling or dancing, like they usually do. His words.”

All eyes were wide and in shock at the news. “I’m sorry, but what?” Rossi was desperate for more understanding. He heard them loud and clear but had trouble believing it.

“No, she’s right. She’s over there dancing with Jack now after he got all sad that she didn’t dance with him tonight yet.” Spencer confirmed Penelope’s claim. “I bet you when they’re done, she’ll go over and talk to Hotch.”

“Wait wait wait,” Derek held up his hands, “if we’re talkin bets here, I think you all owe me some winnings.” He held out his hands as if they would all just throw money his way.

But Emily shook her head and laughed. “I can’t believe you think you won. You bet that they were each hiding a secret relationship from us, but who was it that said they were secretly in a relationship together?” She pointed at herself dramatically.

But JJ, who until then had remained quiet, observing the hysterics playing out before her, finally spoke up. “Woah woah woah, I bet that they were dating too, Em. Don’t count me out of this until we find out who was right about how long they’ve been together.”

“I guess we need to find out the truth then,” Emily said matter-of-factly as she moved to stand up, the others gearing up to follow.

“Wait, you guys were betting on them?” Spencer asked incredulously, clearly having been left out of the loop. But everyone had already begun making the move across the patio.

After an exhaustingly animated dance with your buddy Jack, you led him over to where Hotch was standing, enjoying a drink as he watched the two people he loved most in the world dance together. When you were finally standing before him, his smile was unstoppable. “You two looked great out there,” he said quietly, still trying not to attract too much attention.

“Why thank you kind sir.” You looked down at the tiny figure beside you, “Jack, why don’t you go see if Henry wants to dance for a while?” That should give you a few minutes to figure things out.

“Is everything okay?” Aaron asked after his son scampered off to find his friend.

You leaned in a bit and whispered, “I think we have a problem.” When his gaze locked onto yours with a concerned pointedness, you continued. “Jack thought I was mad at you because we haven’t been as… affectionate as we usually are.”

“Why is that a problem?”

“Because he asked me about it with Garcia and Reid standing right behind me. And they most definitely heard.”

“So they know?” His eyes grew wide as his brain began churning with ideas of what this might mean.

You glanced sideways and saw the whole gang headed your way, knowing looks on each of their faces. “Oh I think they all do.”

“Hey you two, what’s going on over here?” Emily looked impossibly smug as she spoke, and you were afraid to have to answer.

“Just talking, what are you guys doing?” Aaron spoke up so you didn’t have to.

Derek brushed up next to you and draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in. “We’re friends, right Y/N?” You nodded, a tingle of fear dancing along your mind as you were afraid of where this was headed. “And friends tell each other about important life changes, right? They don’t hide anything from each other?”

You shrugged his arm off of your shoulders and rolled your eyes. “Oh just spit it out, Derek.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you two were together?!” He exclaimed suddenly and with much gusto. The rest of the team looked on with eager anticipation.

You shared a quick glance with Hotch before answering the long awaited question.

“Five months.”

“Ha! I win!” JJ poked her finger at Emily and laughed. But you and Aaron were thoroughly confused.

“If it wasn’t your wedding day, so help me-“

Hotch cut Emily off from her empty threat, “what do you win?”

Guilty looks were exchanged. “I bet that you two were dating, but Emily guessed you were hiding it for eight months, but I guessed four, so I win.” She poked fun at her once again and elicited laughter from everyone.

“You guys were betting on us?!” You couldn’t believe it. Well, when you really thought about it, you could absolutely believe it. But you thought you had hidden it well enough not to gain suspicion just yet.

“Oh yeah, we figured you guys were hiding something, but only the two of us thought you were hiding together.” Emily gestured to her blonde counterpart.

Aaron smoothly slipped his hand into yours as you watched the exchange happening before you.

“For the record, I had nothing to do with the bets.” Spencer held his hands up to excuse himself from any guilt.

“I’d love to have those winnings ASAP by the way. Honeymoons are expensive.” Another round of laugher erupted and you were oddly comforted by the lack of teasing and even disappointment from your friends. You of course felt guilty for keeping something so important to you a secret from them, but you and Aaron had agreed that, at least at first, it was the best option. Now that Jack had unknowingly revealed that secret, you felt relief wash over you.

“I can’t believe you guys bet on us…” you chuckled, partly to yourself.

“And since you all know now, I guess I can do this now,” Aaron pulled you along behind him as he stepped out under the elegant lights. When he stopped, he turned and spun you around before setting his one hand on your waist and his other holding onto yours tightly. You smiled sweetly and reciprocated the move by placing your free hand along his shoulder. You leaned in close, laying your head against his body, feeling your shared weight shifting with each gentle step.

The others watched in awe as you shared your first dance as a public couple. No longer burdened by the weight of the secret, you drifted lightly along to the music, enjoying the pure bliss of the moment. The warm hand on your back, the steady beating of the heart that Aaron had so willingly given to you, it was all so perfect. What had started as as almost perfect secret was now your perfect truth.

“Hey babe,” your soft voice in his ear earned a hum, encouraging you to go on, “remind me to get Jack a present for making this happen tonight.” A gentle chuckle rumbled from Aaron’s body and you smiled once more. “I love you.”

Pulling apart just enough, Aaron leaned in and kissed you sweetly, his mouth molding to yours. You kissed him back, nothing but love pouring out of you.

With your heads tilted together and your bodies still held so very close, you never even noticed the silent exchange of money going on only a few feet away.

*****

join my taglist so you never miss out :)

All: @jellyfishbeansontoast @makebank @astrydis @gloryekaterina @outerbankslut @miraclesoflove

CM: @just-a-fangirl-xd @idonotexiste @goldensonlyangel @loony-loopy-lupinn @shemarmooresfedora @doctorspenceryeet @reidsbookclub @lowensashleigh @drayshadow @gspenc @freds-slut @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @missmemoire09 @meghannnnnn @villainswithbenefits @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @silvermercy @sophneedsfandoms @j-cat @kuolonsyoja @emlynblack

BAU Baddies: @breadqueen95 @doctcr-reid @hufflepuffhaze @goldensonlyangel @idonotexiste @spookydrreid @spideygenius @shemarmooresfedora @samuel-de-champagne-problems @meganskane @lowensashleigh @strawberryspence

#mon<3 #talented friends #cm #hotchhh #aaron hotchner

[hufflepuffhaze]

*knock knock* he’s here to sweep you off your feet

WHEWWWWWW OH MY 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 CONSIDER ME SWEPT

#mon<3 #cm #hotchhh #thomas gibson

[hufflepuffhaze]

hi bestie

thanks for simping with me 🥰🥰 sister wives 4eva

I LOVE YOU SWEET SISTER WIFE BESTIE MON 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 you’re the best and i appreciate you more than you know!!! thanks for simping with me right back 🤩🤩

#mon<3

[hufflepuffhaze]

OKAY IM HERE FOR THIS 🔥🔥🔥 THANKS BESTIE MON

🎂 bestie you already know i’m gonna ask for a criminal minds ship 🤪 you know lots about me already but a fun fact is that i did karate when i was younger!!!

KARATE??? um that’s so freakin badass 😎 I’m obsessed. KARATE KAT 🥋

okay bestie, you’re right, I do know you pretty well sooooo

I ship you with… derek morgan

not gonna lie, the karate thing really helped me figure this out. obviously you’d love hotch like he truly deserves (and I knooow he’d love you back) but the karate skill seems like something derek would find intriguing 👀💕

#mon<3 #cm

[hufflepuffhaze]

“I can’t believe you would say that about me” hurt/comfort

It's certainly not the first time an agent in the BAU has gone slightly rogue. In fact, it really just shouldn't be a surprise at this point and yet, every time it happens (again, rather frequently), Strauss and the other higher-ups at the FBI seem astonished. If not obvious because of its frequency, it should be obvious because studying behavior requires a level of empathy that makes it hard to put head before heart. And you're hardly sorry that there wasn't a large amount of logic present when you broke protocol to save that little girl.

You twiddle your thumbs, shifting uncomfortably in your slightly nicer attire. When Hotch called to inform you that Strauss demanded a post-case protocol break debrief, he told you to "wear something slightly nicer than work clothes", but you'd chosen something vastly more uncomfortable than you'd previously believed. Or maybe you were just nervous. You'd arrived ready to speak to Strauss but were informed by a very annoyed looking Hotch that he would be speaking to her first and you were to wait outside on the bench next to the conference room door. A bench you'd sworn would provide you more eavesdropping ability than it has. You can't hear a damn thing, except that you think Hotch is speaking more than Strauss.

Is it a good sign? Is it a bad sign? You're not sure. Hotch hadn't been thrilled that you'd broken protocol. In fact, his reaction had been...odd. Really, he'd been acting odd around you a lot recently.

Shit, maybe you are being fired. You begin to think of something to say, an attempt at a defense. Or maybe, maybe you should just take it on the chin. Your brain is so full of jumping back and forth between mentally tweaking your resume for other job options and some attempt at defending your actions that, by the time Hotch opens the door and steps into the hall, you're almost an emotional wreck.

You stand to greet him, swallowing back tears when you finally look into his eyes. He just looks determined, if not slightly pissed off.

"We're all done here, you don't have to say anything," he says by way of greeting.

"Wha-what?" you ask, almost ashamed at how feeble you sound. He turns on his heel and gestures for you to follow him. It takes you a moment to realize that the two of you are walking back to the bullpen.

"You're cleared; don't worry about it anymore," Hotch answers, not looking back at you. He stops at the end of the hallway and turns back to look at where you've stopped behind him.

"So, I'm...I'm not fired?" you ask quietly. Just like that, Hotch's demeanor changes entirely. He crosses back to you, putting his hands on your upper arms.

"Of course not," he whispers. "You're too good of an agent and a person for us to let you go."

"But...but the protocols-"

"I told Strauss that you're far too valuable an asset to the team to get belittled into a corner over something so trivial as this," he interrupts, wiping a tear from your cheek with a gentle finger. "And that I would not have one of my best agents' records raked over the coals for deciding that saving another life was more important than a rule."

He stares down at you, cupping your cheeks to gain better access to the tears now pouring down your face. It's almost like he's unaware of the intimacy of the action.

"I can't believe you would say that about me," you rasp against your tears.

Hotch cocks his head to one side, "Of course I would, Y/N, why would you think otherwise?"

"Well...it's just...you didn't seem too happy that I broke protocol either and I made you have to deal with Strauss and-"

He places a finger to your lips to calm you down. He then pulls back, hands still cupping your jaw, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Y/N," he starts off slowly, "I'm sorry if...I didn't mean...oh, for God's sake."

"What's wrong?" you ask.

"Nothing at all," he chuckles to himself, "I just find it incredibly hard to think straight around you."

"What do you mean?" you stare up at him. Hotch wipes under your eyes again, staring down at you with more adoration than you've ever imagined - and you've imagined it many times.

"I mean," Hotch whispers, thumbs caressing your jaw, "that I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot more than I should, really, and while I wasn't thrilled that you broke protocol...I was so damn proud of you and so terrified for you at the same time. It scared me to see someone I care about so much put their lives on the line, but I-"

You cut him off this time, pressing your lips to his. Thankfully, he kisses you back, moaning against you as your hands grasp at his chest. You only pull away when you absolutely have to breathe, sighing contentedly as Hotch presses another kiss to your temple, pulling you close. The two of you stand together, holding each other in the (thankfully empty) hallway for a long time. The fluorescent lights are shining overhead, but it feels as though you are basking in the glow of something far more spectacular.

"Well," you finally whisper, "this is certainly a break in protocol."

A laugh rumbles through Hotch's chest as he cups your jaw again, pulling you back in for another kiss.

~~~

Thank you for the request - I hope you like it! Feel free to send me sentence and dialogue prompts! xx

#I LOVE THIS #hotchhh #cm #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner

[hufflepuffhaze]

harry potter this or that

books or movies? philoshopher’s stone or chamber of secrets? prisoner of azkaban, goblet of fire or half-blood prince? order of the phoenix or deathly hallows? slytherin or ravenclaw? gryffindor or hufflepuff? durmstrang or beauxbatons? chaser or beater? seeker or keeper?

#books #chamber of secrets #goblet of fire #order of the phoenix (this was tough but i love ootp too much) #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #beauxbatons #beater #keeper #hp

[hufflepuffhaze]

CONGRATULATIONS SWEET MON!!!!!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😁😁😁😁😁😁

1 YEAR and 1.1K!!!

my dear friends, it is with great excitement that I share that as of today, this blog has been active for one year! (my soul has been held captive by the blue hellsite for many more years prior, but it’s been one year since I started this blog and became more active and interactive) And I also have hit 1.1k followers, which seems absolutely bonkers 🤯

I’d love to have everyone join me in celebrating 🥳 so feel free to send in as many asks as you’d like 💕 I want to give back to YOU as a thank you for being my beloved followers and friends

🎂 - SHIPS - send me a few descriptors (personality types, traits, hogwarts house, hobbies/interests, anything you want to share that will help) and I’ll ship you with a character from the fandom of your choice - you can check in with me first to see if I’m familiar with a fandom if you’re not sure

🎈- ICONS - in an attempt at getting better at editing, send me a character and a vibe/mood and I’ll make an icon/pfp for them - if you want it to be movie or episode specific, please include this as well and I’ll try my best)

🎁 - MOODBOARDS - send me a character and a vibe/theme and I’ll create a moodboard

🎉 - OTHER - ask me anything!

🥰 tagging some beloved mutuals under the break 🥰

BAU Baddies: @breadqueen95 @doctcr-reid @hufflepuffhaze @goldensonlyangel @idonotexiste @spookydrreid @spideygenius @shemarmooresfedora @samuel-de-champagne-problems @meganskane @lowensashleigh @strawberryspence

Bad Bitches Only: @spookybuckynat @breadqueen95 @rcwena @cherrybarzy @hufflepuffhaze @w1segirl @nancybycrs @doctcr-reid @jilyevans @andromedaa-tonks

@jellyfishbeansontoast @makebank @astrydis @gloryekaterina @outerbankslut @miraclesoflove @bricksatanakinswindow @onlyfreds @cognacdelights @the-nightmare-before-bucky

#mon<3 #i can’t wait to send in alllll the asks

[hufflepuffhaze]

BESTIE MONNNNNNNN so amazing as always!!!!! my hsm3 heart 😍😍 also the mutual pining?? Y E S MAAM. so fluffy & sweet i love it queen!!!

Can I Have This Dance

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: spencer asks you for dance lessons, but you never imagined that you were the one he wanted to impress

Warnings: pining, fluff

WC: 2.8k

Song Inspo: Can I Have This Dance - high school musical 3

song lyrics in italics

a/n: sorry I’m just obsessed with dancing fics and this song is too perf 🤷‍♀️ this is my contribution to @goldensonlyangel writing event 💕

***

The FBI gala was fast approaching and, as it was most years, the BAU was completely unprepared. Although it could mostly be accounted to the constant traveling and lack of sleep, it was still a bit comical that so many last minute preparations were being made. Including this one.

Spencer had pulled you aside just two days ago, away from prying eyes and ears, and asked if you could teach him how to dance. From the way he spoke and the constant dodging of eye contact, you knew he didn’t want to explain why, but you assumed he wanted to impress someone at the gala. And with a guy like him, how could you say no? Did it tear you apart inside to think about him asking someone else to dance at one of the most regal events you would ever attend? Of course, but to do anything about it would involve admitting your feelings, those feelings you fought so hard to hide from everyone you knew.

But now you stood in your bare feet in the middle of your living room, furniture pushed to the side, air conditioning cranked high, and stereo pulsing with the beat of the music you had preselected for the evening’s lesson.

“Spencer, why did you ask me to teach you to dance if you were going to stand there impersonating my floor lamp the whole time?”

You knew you shouldn’t laugh, but the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes sent a flutter of gaiety through your heart. He was cute when he was nervous. And he was so nervous when he had no reason to be. If anyone should be nervous, it’s you.

“If you don’t get your butt over here in the next five seconds, I’ll have to resort to more desperate measures. I don’t think you want that.” You attempted to deliver your most threatening gaze his way, but you knew you couldn’t be as intense as any of the others would. With Spence, you just didn’t have it in you.

Thankfully, he timidly took a few steps toward you, close enough at least for you to reach forward and take his hand pulling him the rest of the way until you were toe to toe. “There, that’s better.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, letting your fingers wrap around his, encasing them in your warmth, your calm. But if anyone needed to calm down, it was you. Your heart was beating wildly and your breathing was in danger of reflecting it outwardly. But for now, your confidence remained at the forefront and masked the flutter of nerves inside.

Spencer’s eyes darted around the room and you snapped your fingers to bring him back to you. “Hey, do me a favor, yeah?” He nodded. A good start. You held your hand out to the side. “Take my hand,” and he did. “Take a breath,” once again, he did as he was told. One deep breath in, steadying. One long breath out, readying. You breathed along with him, your chests moving in sync.

When he had finally let out that first, most important breath, you wrapped your other arm up over his shoulder. Your fingers reached just above the collar of his soft-washed shirt. His skin was silk beneath your fingertips and your fingertips ignited his skin under your touch.

Your voice was growing softer with each movement closer to him. “Put your other arm around my waist.” He was hesitant to initiate something so intimate, but he continued to remind himself that he wanted this, he asked for this.

“Okay Spence, you’re doin great. Now pull me close.” You loosened your grip just enough so that he needed to reign you back in. You felt his grip firm up and you were, in fact, pulled closer to him, toe to toe and now chest to chest. “Good,” you breathed out, your voice soft and soothing, encouraging. “Now take one step, just one.”

With his eyes locked on a masterful painting adorning your wall, he followed your directions. He stepped one foot forward and brought the other to meet it. As he moved, you moved with him.

“Do you feel how I moved with you just then?” He nodded, concentration deep, his thoughts running a mile a minute. “Dancing is-“ you thought for a moment, “dancing is exactly what we do in the BAU.” That got his attention for sure. Spencer’s confused gaze met your confident one. “It’s almost like a chase, one person moves and the other follows. Except it’s much more fluid than that. Our team, we’re never far behind the unsub, we’re anticipating their next move so we can meet them there. And when you’re dancing, you do the same thing. You follow along, but you match the other’s pace, you anticipate their next movement.”

As much as you had hoped for it to make sense, you realized you had probably confused him more than before. “Okay, just try this with me. Take a few more steps, just like before, and I’ll do my best to match you, okay?”

“I don’t know about this-“

“You have to trust me, Spence. Can you do that?” You have his shoulder a gentle squeeze, a reminder that you both supported each other during this. He nodded his agreement and settled himself back in for another laser-focused step.

You did your best to follow his lead, let him move at his own pace. But Spencer was far too tense, like a bow pulled taut just before the arrow flies.

Pulling his body close again after losing the form you had built before, this time you held him tight. Your hand rested lightly just atop his shoulder. You looked up at him. His brows were scrunched, deep in thought and even a hint, no quite a bit of doubt in that troubled gaze. “Hey, you’re going a great job. It took more than ten minutes for me to learn how to dance, so if this is something you want to get better at, you’ve gotta stick with me.”

“I’m with you, I just-“ he closed his eyes and breathed out again, long and slow. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated guy, you know?”

You merely shook your head. “You don’t have to be. You’re-” you stopped yourself before you finished your sentence with ‘perfect the way you are’, but you weren’t sure how you would recover. “Spencer, for once in your life, let your brain take a break.” Then a new idea sparked in your mind. You smiled. “We’re gonna go again, the same things as before. A few steps, super simple, okay? But this time, keep your eyes locked on mine. No glancing around the room, no staring at the walls. Just you and me.”

With a quick shift of position, a retightening of the hold you had on him, you nodded for him to begin. You looked him in the eyes and he looked back. The power of his gaze stunned you for a second. He was determined, he was focused. You could see the crease in his forehead as he fought the desire to look at his feet, to desperately grasp at any other technique that would help him learn. “Listen and let the music be your guide, Spence."

For almost an hour, you and Spencer danced circles around your living room, the carpet in danger of wearing out beneath you - or so it felt. Spencer was getting there, you knew he was. He struggled to let his body simply float along to the music. He struggled to let his mind shut down long enough to let his muscles, his instincts, keep his body up and moving. But he was trying and it made you happy to see him making progress.

The gala was only a few days away. When he finally left your apartment, you gave him a few more pointers and made him promise to keep practicing. You knew he had someone special in mind or else he would have given up much sooner. You knew that whoever she was, she’d be one lucky lady to have such a dedicated man after her heart. Jealousy who?

*

As you put the finishing touches on your hair and makeup, you couldn’t help but feel a little tingle of excitement, anticipation, over the glitz and glam that was promised with a gala as grand as this was to be. It wasn’t often that you or any of your coworkers got this dressed up, so you wanted to savor every moment. You had intended on arriving early so you could see everyone, one by one, as they arrived.

But nothing ever went your way. First, your clutch wouldn’t close, so you selected another. Then the wrap you had set aside for the evening had a hole in it. So you selected another. At this point, you would arrive just on time.

But the traffic lights along the routes had another idea for you. One broken stoplight and three red lights in a row later, you finally pulled into the parking lot. You politely, although impatiently, transferred your keys to the valet before making your way inside.

Those first few steps on the marble floor of the posh hotel selected to host the event were surreal. The clicking of your heels echoed for a fraction of a second before it was swallowed by the cacophony of sounds emanating from the grand ballroom down the hallway to the right. You followed the noise and found yourself face to face with the grandiose sights and sounds of hundreds of FBI agents elegantly letting loose after who-knows-what they had been through in the past days and weeks.

You let your eyes drift from wall to wall, soaking in the magnitude of the event before you. Then you dropped your gaze to seek familiar faces in a sea of sameness.

Finally, an infectious smile was shot your way and you wasted no time in walking over to join JJ and Will at a round table on the outskirts of the dance floor.

You greeted them both with a hug and gushed over how gorgeous JJ looked in her periwinkle dress. “Wait til you see everyone else, Y/N. I swear, this gang has never looked better.” She stood on tiptoe to seek out the others. “There they are, come on.” She took your hand and dragged you along behind her, Will shaking his head in exasperation as he trailed behind you.

“Look who I found everyone!” JJ announced as she approached a small clan of people lost in conversation. But that conversation was cut short when all eyes turned toward you.

“Y/N! You made it!” Penelope shrieked at the first glance at you. She flew forward and threw her arms around you, careful still not to ruin either of your hair or makeup.

“Hi, P. Looking beautiful as always.” You hugged her back, then proceeded to greet each of your teammates in turn. Your group was truly a sight for sore eyes, the ladies looking stunning and the men so handsome you would take any one of them home in an instant.

But lastly, you turned to face Spencer and a smile stretched across your face. His light charcoal suit fit him perfectly and his cerulean tie accented the ensemble well. “Hi there, twinkle toes, you look great.” You leaned in to kiss his cheek as you had done with each of the others, but you felt him tense up. It would seem quite normal to anyone else given his distaste for touch, but to you, it was foreign. But you dismissed it as nerves over whatever that man had planned for the night.

“Now that we’re all here, what do you say we hit that dance floor before we lose the adrenaline of the night?” Derek was already backing his way toward the center of the room. Soon, his body was swallowed by the swirling multicolored lights and you knew you wouldn’t and couldn’t leave him alone out there.

And thus, each of you let the music take control and soon all but one person was out on the floor.

Spencer, however, opted for a refreshing drink to drown out his nerves. He had practiced every day, although nothing was quite as effective as that first lesson. And he knew exactly why.

With one last swig of water, the lights turned down lower and the upbeat music morphed into a slow song. The dance floor, once a mass of moving bodies, broke out into pairs as couples took to the floor for more intimate dances. Everyone around you grabbed a partner, and just as you were about to excuse yourself from the dance floor, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you spun around.

A hand was extended to you, slender fingers beckoning for you to take them into your own hand. “Can I have this dance?” You blinked in surprise at the tall form of Spencer Reid standing before you. But with the way his eyes sought confirmation from yours, the way his hand shook gently with tendrils of fear, the way his shoulders were pulled back confidently, but sagged slowly with each passing second, you grinned and nodded, reaching up to accept his hand.

He breathed a sigh of relief and you walked with him to an open space on the dance floor. When you spun and looped our arm over his shoulder to pull him close, you couldn’t help but ask. “I thought you had some special lady you were learning to dance for? Why aren’t you dancing with her?” You looked around in search of someone, anyone else who would have caught his eye previously.

But nothing could prepare you for his response. “I am, actually.” You locked eyes with him. Impossible. With no warning, Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close - so close you could possibly have climbed right into his jacket pocket. When he took his first step, you could see the concentration tight in his face, but with each move which flowed into the next, his confidence grew as his comfort with you set in.

Those hours of extra practice were missing one crucial element: you. Now that you were back within his grasp, your breathing matching his, your natural aroma filling his senses, and the feel of your hand in his, he knew he could do it. So he spun you around, and you let out a squeak of joy at the magic of the moment.

You were wearing the most beautiful dress you had ever had, in the most extravagant ballroom, and Spencer Reid had his arm around you. It couldn’t possibly be real life, it was the thing of fairytales.

“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice broke through your dream-like state, “I have to tell you something.” There was nowhere else you’d rather look than into his eyes, illuminated gloriously by the ever-moving lights above you. His face was mere inches from yours. “I’ve liked you for a while now, and I wanted to learn to dance so I could spend tonight with you, here. I don’t really care for these kinds of gatherings, but dancing with you makes it feel like we’re the only ones here.” His words were quite simple, yet you soaked them in like the most refreshing drink you’d ever tasted.

Now it was your turn to share, so you summoned the courage that must have been airborne, and spoke, just above a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t know the exact statistic, but I’d say it’s one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do. I’ve liked you for quite some time,” you laughed at the irony of pining over someone who felt the same way about you, “and teaching you to dance, well, I figured it might be the only time I got to be held like that… by you.”

Spencer blinked away his surprise, never imagining someone like you feeling that way about someone like him. Suddenly every interaction you had with him ran through his mind. “I don’t know that statistic either, but I do know there’s a one out of one chance that I want to kiss you.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Without any hesitation , Spencer closed the distance between you, his lips instantly molding to yours. It was soft, yet a sense of desperation, of long-awaited anticipation filled each gentle movement. Just like the song that was nearing its end, your kiss was slow and sultry, a dance in itself.

Too soon, but with need for air, you pulled away, the faint etchings of a smile remaining on your face, which was perfectly mirrored in Spencer’s.

Then Spencer broke the comfortable silence between you,

“Will you promise me we’ll keep dancing, just like this, wherever we go next?”

*****

join my taglist so you don’t miss out 💕

All: @jellyfishbeansontoast @makebank @astrydis @gloryekaterina @outerbankslut @miraclesoflove

CM: @just-a-fangirl-xd @idonotexiste @goldensonlyangel @loony-loopy-lupinn @shemarmooresfedora @doctorspenceryeet @reidsbookclub @lowensashleigh @drayshadow @gspenc @freds-slut @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @missmemoire09 @meghannnnnn @villainswithbenefits @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @silvermercy @sophneedsfandoms @j-cat

BAU Baddies: @breadqueen95 @doctcr-reid @hufflepuffhaze @goldensonlyangel @idonotexiste @spookydrreid @spideygenius @shemarmooresfedora @samuel-de-champagne-problems @meganskane @lowensashleigh @strawberryspence

#mon<3 #cm #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader

[hufflepuffhaze]

1 September - Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

#BEAUTIFUL #hp

[hufflepuffhaze]

FAVORITE PENELOPE GARCIA OUTFITS requested by @tenaciousarcadeexpert​

#cm

[hufflepuffhaze]

London → Hogwarts 11am, September 1st

#happy september 1st 🤍 #hp