One of my favorite moments in season 4 is when Spencer ROASTS Jordan Todd by calling her out for her jewelry being fake.
Like he recovers it by calling it a demonstration but NOTHING will convince me that he wasnāt being a petty bitch over the whole Morgan/Todd thing the writers were trying to push lmao
He was just SO prepared for that comment I canāt believe he hadnāt been thinking about it for awhile
Omega Reid sneaking into Alpha Morgan's hotel room in the middle of the night (Elle may or may not have taught him how to jimmy a lock back in the day-- but a magician never shares his secrets, after all). Morgan is dead asleep to the world, having been the lucky sonofabitch to get the single room this time; so he has his phone plugged in on the nightstand with some soft music playing, the curtains closed to keep out the city lights and sounds, and his blankets pulled up almost over his head.
Reid hesitates for a moment at the foot of the bed, fingers picking at the loose string at the bottom of his sleep-shirt nervously (it's one from his days in Cal-Tech, old and faded and way-too-big for him, but it reminds him of home and he tends to bring it on cases he knows will be hard). He knows that he shouldn't be nervous--Morgan himself pulled him aside earlier in the day and promised him that he's more than welcome to come find comfort with the Alpha if he needs it. "You feeling safe and warm is my top priority, Pretty Boy. Don't be afraid to ask for what you need from me, okay? I'm here for you, always."
But now that he's standing here, slowly inhaling the familiar scent of Derek Morgan-- that masculine musk that all Alphas have, though with undertones of something dark and rich; a faint sweetness like a savored dark chocolate covered cherry sitting on the back of the tongue, a sip of midnight black organic Mexican coffee, a hint of cinnamon and cream mixed in; the rawness of an early morning sunrise after a night of freezing rain, the soil still wet and frigid, pine trees damp and covered in sap, the air biting at lungs that inhale long and deep to breathe in the fresh air-- smelling like home, Spencer is finding himself frozen in place.
Derek was just being nice, that's all. He has to--he's an Alpha. Alphas have to be nice to pack Omegas, to protect them and make them feel safe within the structure of the pack. That's what Hotch and Rossi do, too. They help Spencer feel settled and safe, like he belongs.
So... maybe this was a mistake. Spencer shouldn't have tried to read too into Derek's words. He should go back to his own room, with JJ, and pretend he was never here. Derek will never know--
(More under the cut)
"Spencer?" Derek's voice is deep and gravelly, sending a deep shiver up Spencer's spine, causing a lump to form in his throat. The Alpha sits up a little on his elbows, blinking the sleep away with a yawn, one hand rubbing down his face before he settles his gaze on the Omega standing at the foot of his bed. In the dark of the room, Spencer can't quite read Derek's expression, but he does notice the slightest tic of the Alpha's brow raising, "What're you doin' Pretty Boy? You feelin' okay?"
Spencer swallows that lump, forcing down the urge to whine like some kind of needy Omega--ignoring that he is some kind of needy Omega-- "I, um, I was just..." He feels like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Heat flushes his face, his chest, a mix of embarrassment and shame and want. He averts his eyes, fingers pulling and tugging on that loose string, wrapping it around a knuckle, unwrapping it, wrapping it again--
"Hey, hey," Derek sits up a little straighter, holding out a hand, palm up, the blanket sliding down to his waist to show he was sleeping shirtless (of course he was), and this time Spencer isn't able to hold back the smallest little whine that escapes his throat at the sight. He's seen Derek shirtless before, many times, but something about the softness of sleep, the dark of the room, and the way he's holding out his hand... Spencer feels his walls crumbling. Derek looks safe. And that's what Spencer needs right now. Safe. Home.
He doesn't realize he's trembling until he takes Derek's palm, warm against the chill of his own (when did he get so cold?), steady and firm versus how he quivers and shakes with nerves. Derek doesn't pull, doesn't tug or push, just wraps his fingers around Spencer's hand in a gentle--yet firm--movement, helping to ground him. Bring him back to earth. Steady him. Like he always has, ever since the first day they met, the Alpha noting the younger Omega's nerves at being in an office surrounded by Alphas and Betas, the scents of stronger and older men and women overwhelming him, the lights too bright, the room too small--and Derek smiled his ever-so-charming smile, flashing his pearly white fangs, eyes full of kindness and mischief as he placed his hand in the middle of Spencer's back, steering him away towards a small unused office, calling over his shoulder at Gideon, "I'm stealing this Pretty Boy for a bit!" He helped Spencer calm down, once they were alone, settling himself in front of the door as to not crowd the Omega. And every day after that, he was Spencer's lifeline.
Derek lets out the smallest chuff, a calming and soothing sound for Omegas, meeting Spencer's gaze with a knowing smile. "Where'd you go in that big brain of yours, hmm?" His voice is quiet, sweet, friendly--it makes Spencer realize that he's no longer shaking. How long has he just been standing here?
"I..." he drops his eyes to the blankets, a small intrusive thought making him wonder if Derek would let him bring his go-bag in here so he could build a nest-- "I was thinking about... the day we met," he replies.
Derek's smile softens, "Oh yeah? You wanna climb into bed and get cozy while you tell me about it?"
Spencer would normally have stammered or stuttered, hesitated, or possibly just run away altogether. Spencer would normally feel frightened of the idea of sharing a bed with an Alpha, no matter who they are. He'd normally bite his tongue and retreat, back to his cold and lonely temporary nest in the other room.
Tonight he just nods, too tired of fighting his own instincts for comfort and warmth. Too tired of not understanding the feelings he harbors for his friend, this Alpha who has always been his rock. So he squeezes Derek's hand and lets the Alpha tug him into bed, pulling up the blanket and covering them both, using his strength and size to manhandle Spencer into the exact position he wants him, the Omega's head resting on Derek's shoulder, hand on his chest.
Spencer wants to blush and stutter and pull away. He wants to fight and insist that sharing the bed doesn't mean they have to cuddle--but dammit he's so touch starved. And Derek is so warm. And strong. And literally everything his inner Omega knows would be perfect for a mate.
It's too easy to just... give in. To close his eyes and breathe in the intoxicating scent of Derek, so close to his neck, to those powerful scent glands that release calming pheromones. To snuggle closer and press his nose there, feeling the way Derek's chest vibrates with a soothing rumbling purr, deep baritone that makes Spencer want to melt, his own answering purr rising out of him unbidden--but not unwelcome.
It's not long before he's kneading, fingers softly pushing and pulling at the blanket (wait, this isn't the hotel's bedding--did Morgan bring his own?), surrounded by the scent of safe and comfort and loved and home.
At some point, he thinks he hears Derek talking to him, so quiet, a deep crooning whisper of affectionate words that Spencer can't quite grasp as he sinks deeper into the most peaceful sleep he's had in years.
And when he is finally asleep, soft purring faded out to deep, even breaths, Derek just wraps his arms around him a little tighter, one hand threading fingers through those wild curls he loves oh-so-much, gently and with utter devotion. He doesn't know if Spencer will want to acknowledge how his eyes were shimmering golden in the darkness of the room, how he smelled of distressed and wandering Omega, clearly nearing the age in adults where he'll be looking for a suitable Alpha soon. He doesn't know if Spencer will even want him, if he allows his instincts to speak for him, looking for a mate who will give him strong and healthy pups. All he knows is that right now, he feels like he could die happy, having been able to hold the Omega of his dreams even for one night.
Written For: The HotchReid Valentineās Day Trope Challenge,
Trope Assignments = Historical AU, Time Travel
Summary: The year is 1924, half a decade after the first World War, and a few years before the Great Depression would devastate the nation. It is a time of contradiction: the modernist uprising of science and innovation, met with a traditionalist, fearful desire to cling to the past in a fast-evolving, urbanist society.
And on this morning in Washington D.C. an unmarked package is left outside the office of Aaron āHotchā Hotchner, P.I., with a note simply telling him to find the rest, and a substantial price tag attached. What he finds in this package is something he has never seen before, hundreds of years old, and he barely knows where to start trying to find more like it. Ultimately he is pointed towards someone that may just have a clue what to do with his charge: a Classics Historian working in the basements of the Smithsonian, Dr. Spencer Reid.
Together, what they discover sends them on a break-neck chase across the city, searching for a mysterious collection of powerful artifacts, and the people that are trying to sell them. Forever changing everything they know about the world, the people in it, truth, lies, love, and the fragile construct of time.
Rating: Mature/Explicit (to be determined)
Chapter CW/notes:Ā Alcohol consumption and smoking of cigars/cigarettes, light cursing, politics and dirty dealings, and Hotch doing some questionable things while he was supposed to be on the right side of the law. Other than that, this is all Hotch doing things and Spencer isnāt present in this chapter, but we see some other CM characters, and Spencer is _always_ on Hotchās mind. Who could blame him?
Word Count:Ā 4,563
Masterpost Link
Ao3 Link
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Chapter 03: Rumors and Informants
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Now that they have at least some semblance of a direction to go in, Hotch and Dr. Reid go their separate ways outside the Library of Congress to investigate and research in the methods they do best. Dr. Reid to his lab with his books and testing instruments, and Hotch on the street ā with his informants and questions. Following a trail nearly just as invisible as it had been before.Ā
Taking shots in the dark: not his favorite way to investigate, but it beat where heād been before he had enlisted Dr. Reidās help. Navigating the channels heās more familiar with would get his feet back under him, after being swept so thoroughly in the younger man for the past few hours. What a day it has been so far.
Rule: Tag people you want to get to know better/catch up with!
Tagged by: @ssa-sarahsunshine (Thanks love! I think you might be the first person to tag me in something like this š)
Favorite color: I always struggle with this! Right now maybe an Olive or forest green?
Last song: Messed Up by Of Monsters, Chloe Adams
Currently reading: I'm reading a couple wips on AO3 right now: The Construct of Time and Dog Days by @katytheinspiredworkaholic, Who Owns Spencer Reid (which is almost complete and I'm going to cry when it is) by @tobias-hankel, Cherry Wine by @bau-gremlin, and a few others! You should check them out! They're all fantastic writers!
I'm also reading a book called Scythe by Neil Schusterman that I really like right now!
Last Movie: I just watched Midsommar, which was absolutely terrifying but also very good if you like horror!
Sweet, savory, or spicy: Sweet! But I do like savory and spicy when the mood strikes.
Currently working on: Some poetry pieces, but nothing concrete. I've only just begone writing again, so hopefully I'll have some more ideas pop in my head soon :)
Tagging: I'm pretty sure everyone that I would have tagged has already been tagged, so if you see this and haven't been tagged yet, feel free to do it! I always love reading and learning about all of my moots on here <3
Do you like Hotch's dad bod because it means he is eating regularly and he looks relaxed and happy or do you like his dad bod because it makes you feel small or do you like his dad bod because Hotch not looking like the epitome of male physical fitness makes you feel better in your skin as well?
Written For: The HotchReid Valentineās Day Trope Challenge,
Trope Assignments = Historical AU, Time Travel
Summary:Ā The year is 1924, half a decade after the first World War, and a few years before the Great Depression would devastate the nation. It is a time of contradiction: the modernist uprising of science and innovation, met with a traditionalist, fearful desire to cling to the past in a fast-evolving, urbanist society.
And on this morning in Washington D.C. an unmarked package is left outside the office of Aaron āHotchā Hotchner, P.I., with a note simply telling him to find the rest, and a substantial price tag attached. What he finds in this package is something he has never seen before, hundreds of years old, and he barely knows where to start trying to find more like it. Ultimately he is pointed towards someone that may just have a clue what to do with his charge: a Classics Historian working in the basements of the Smithsonian, Dr. Spencer Reid.
Together, what they discover sends them on a break-neck chase across the city, searching for a mysterious collection of powerful artifacts, and the people that are trying to sell them. Forever changing everything they know about the world, the people in it, truth, lies, love, and the fragile construct of time.
Rating: Mature/Explicit (to be determined)
Chapter CW/notes:Ā No real TW/CW this chapter. This fic actually has nothing to do with Valentineās Day, but it is very much a romance at itās core. Most of these locations are real places, and my descriptions are based solely on very old black and white photos and my wild imagination. I have no posting schedule, but I have three chapters completely written and more churning out at a very fast rate so updates will be coming soon. This work is entirely self-betaād, all mistakes and typos are my fault. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy. <3
Word Count:Ā 5,271
Masterpost Link (tba)
Ao3 Link
ā
Chapter 01: The Box and The Envelope
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The box arrives with the post. A brown paper package with no stamps or markings to speak of, or even a name written on the 'return to senderā section of the delivery. There is only his name written on an envelope taped to the top of the box, also remarkably without postage.
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To: Mr. Aaron Hotchner, P.I.
Oxbow House, Office 100, 355 Lewis Street,
Washington, D.C. 20510
Morgan: Fingers fully interlocking and the grip is firm and comforting. Uses his thumb to gently rub circles on the back of your hand as you walk.
Garcia: similar to Morgan, fully interlocks fingers, but grip is looser. Swings arms as you walk. Constantly readjusting and squeezing your hand depending on her emotions.
Hotch: Doesnāt really care for hand holding (no sweaty palms)but he will grab your hand and bring it up for a small kiss on the back before releasing it. Also grabs your hands when there cold and tries to warm them up by blowing on them. Likes to brush the back of his hand against yours as you walk.
Emily: prefers to hold onto your wrist, but doesnāt like to be constrained herself. Likes leading you by gently pulling at you. Likes to reassure herself youāre still there by tightening her grip and quickly releasing.
Spencer: not a fan of holding hands (germs) but will interlock pinkies when the feeling strikes. Frequently letās go as he gets distracted by his thoughts and talks with his hands. Secretly loves then contact because itās not too much or too little in terms of grip.
JJ: loves holding hands. Will do it ALL the time if appropriate. Twines her whole arm around your arm before also holding your hand just so you can be as close as possible.
Rossi: Uses a single spaghetti noodle between you. Like a leash.
Hotch wakes up an hour before the alarm is supposed to go off, sleepily watching as snow piles up outside the window. Thereās frost on the edges of the glass, swirls of geometric patterns that his eyes trace lazily as he wonders what woke him.
Then he feels the smallest of tremors coming from behind him. Turning over, he finds Spencer curled up as tiny as can be, shivering every few seconds, face buried into the pillow in search for warmth.
When booking rooms for the night, JJ couldnāt find anyplace with vacancyās inside city limits. The holiday season had brought many out-of-towners to the area; whether extended family visiting for Christmas, or southerners looking for the āmagicā that only a small city in northern Montana could provide. Thus, leaving the team to book an older (and not quite as nice) motel on the side of the road about 45 minutes out of town.
They had a place to sleep, but at the cost of freezing rooms and hardly any hot water.
Hotch didnāt bat an eye when he saw that he and Spencer would be sharing a bed. Worst things have happened (like when he had to sleep on the floor to avoid sharing a twin sized bed with Gideon once. Never again).
And if he just so happened to feel a little happy at the idea of being so close to the young genius he might have feelings for, well, thatās his business.
But now itās 4:06am, thereās a blizzard outside and inside itās freezing. Spencer is shivering, his messy curls hiding his face, his knees pulled up as high as they can go. He doesnāt look to be sleeping either, but rather trying his best to warm up enough that he can sleep.
Hotch doesnāt even think about it, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him into his embrace. He hears Spencerās breath hitch, feels him stiffen, but otherwise gets no reaction from him. So, he settles them both against the pillows, pulls the blanket up a little higher, and begins to rub one of his hands up and down Spencerās back.
It doesnāt take long for Spencer to slowly relax, tension bleeding from his muscles. He eventually clutches at Hotchās shirt, frozen fingers finding warmth in the fabric. His shivering slows to stillness, and his breathing grows steady.
In no time, Hotch is certain that Spencer has fallen asleep. Maybe for the first time the whole night.
stormborns
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jimmyeatworldofficial
gummygunk
izzy806
