#slowly...waits for my copy...to arrive...

You should have known better than to go to Baelor’s study that night. His fierce gaze locked on you the second you walked in.

The next second you were on a desk, and in four months time you rubbed the small bump over your red silk dress. Today was the day you decided to officially tell Baelor.

The past two months he’s been away attending to the realms troubles. The only people who officially knew were your youngest, Valarr, and the maester who confirmed it.

The idea of sending Baelor a letter that he’d have another child seemed wrong. So you waited for his return to share the news.

You stood in the castle's courtyard holding Valarr’s small hand as he waited for Baelor’s arrival. Your dress thankfully covers your bump.

“Are you excited little one?” You asked, watching the bannermen ride in on their horses.

Your husband slowly coming into view. A smile etched on his face as he spotted both of you.

As he dismounted his horse Valarr was quick to run to him. He picked up the small boy with ease ruffling his hair.

“Wife.” He walked up to you giving a quick kiss putting your son down.

“You must be exhausted husband.” You smiled as the three of you walked back into the castle letting the others do their work.

“Very, I’ve missed you.” He said as you led Valarr to his nursery.

He sat on the carpet, his attention instantly drawn by the small wooden dragon resting on the floor.

You and Baelor linked arms walking to your shared bedchambers.

He sighed in relief to finally be back home. He stripped himself of his riding gear and changed into something comfortable.

You sat on the bed watching as he neatly placed his clothes on the chair.

“How was everything?” You asked.

“Better now. I managed to negotiate some treaties for my father.” Baelor smiled.

“Enough of me, how were you? Little Valarr could not have been easy to handle.” He continued sitting next to you.

“He is a good boy.” You softly shoved his shoulders.

“I know he is, he is our son. But I was not here and I know he likes to go over your head sometimes.” Baelor laughed as he explained himself.

“The maester is starting to teach him to read better.” You said hands on your lap.

“And what of you? What have you been doing? I left you all alone.” Baelor grabbed your hand, eyes softening.

“You didn’t leave me alone.” You shook your head.

Might as well tell him now.

“I know you have lady’s maids and the whole castle to keep you company, but still I was not here.” Baelor said.

“You were Baelor.” You turned your head looking into his eyes.

The silence hung in the air as you and Baelor stared at each other. You pulled away your hand letting it rest on your stomach.

He shook his head and smiled widely. “Again?”

“Again.”

He stood up crouching before you. His hand rested over yours eyes glazed over in awe.

“Who knows?” He asked looking up at you.

“A maester and Valarr.”

“Little Prince or Princess, I am your father. My apologies for not acknowledging you sooner. I can’t wait to meet you.” He used his free hand to rub the other side on your stomach.

You laughed at his words pulling him up.

“You didn’t know they existed until now. It’s been only four moons.”

“Well I have five to make it up to them.”

Jason cut the engine when you arrived home. The two of you were just coming home from a date. He had taken you to an upscale restaurant to make up for all the time he has had to spend away from you recently due to missions and patrols.

He got off of the motorcycle before helping you off of it as well, helping you with your helmet. Your hair was messier now due to having to wear the helmet, your black heels in your hands since you couldn't wear them while he was driving. Your red dress hugged your curves, cutting off mid-thigh.

"If I had known you were going to take us to the restaurant on your motorcycle I would have picked out a different outfit." You chuckled.

"I'm glad you didn't." Jason said as a smirk tugged at his lips. "Seeing you on my motorcycle in that little red dress does things to me." His gaze swept over your body. Before you could respond, he spun you around so your back was facing him. He bent you over his motorcycle which caused a gasp to escape past your lips.

He hummed as he let his hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress up as his hands trailed upwards, the fabric bunching up at your waist. "Jason, what are you doing?" You questioned as you looked back at him before looking around at your surroundings. "Someone could see us."

"No one's gonna see us, doll." He murmured, landing a slap on your ass. You jolted, a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips. "All you need to do is spread those pretty legs and keep quiet. You can do that for me baby, can't you?" He asked as his fingers lightly brushed over your clothed pussy. You let out a shaky whimper as you nodded.

"Good girl." He cooed as he tugged your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them before he shoved them in his pocket. He kicked your ankles apart and ran his hands up the backs of your thighs, his hands squeezing your ass. You whimpered quietly as he spread you open, displaying your pussy.

"Fuck, look at that pretty pussy. She's so wet for me already." He growled as he squatted down before licking a long strip up your center. You let out a shaky breath, your cunt clenching around nothing as he licked up your core slowly again. "God, you taste so good baby. I could eat this pussy all night." He said as he stood up straight and unbuckled his belt. "Although I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside of you."

You herd the sound of fabric rustling behind you as he tugged down his slacks and boxers. You gasped as he slid the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your arousal on it. He slapped the tip against your clit before sliding into you, bottoming out of you with the first thrust.

"Oh my god," you gasped, a moan tumbling from your parted lips as you gripped the set of the motorcycle tighter. He gripped your hips as he continued to thrust into you, keeping his pace slow, causing you to feel every inch of him dragging against your walls.

"That's it." He groaned and picked up his pace, his hips slapping against your ass. "Take my cock, pretty girl. Just like that." He murmured.

Your pussy clenched around his cock as he slammed into you. One of his hands left your hip, sliding up your side and into your hair, gripping the strands. He tugged you back, pulling you up so your back arched, your hands still gripping the seat of the motorcycle. He leaned in and licked a long strip up your neck before nipping on your ear. "J- Jason!" You cried out as his cock hit your g-spot over and over again.

Jason slapped a hand over your mouth. "You know I love it when you make those pretty noises for me but, I need you to be quiet. I need you to be a good girl for me, okay?" He murmured as he shoved two of his digits past your lips. You nodded, whimpering around his fingers.

You lightly sucked on his fingers as he fucked you, moaning around them. "Fuck, sweetheart." He grunted into your ear, his thumb tracing over your jawline while his other hand kept his tight grip on your hip. "You're squeezing my cock so tight."

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, wiping your saliva on your lips before swapping his fingers for your lips, his mouth drinking in your desperate, helpless moans. His pace transformed from steady to relentless and merciless. The motorcycle beneath you shook faintly as he slammed into you, the only sound filling the night air being the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You could feel the tight coil in your stomach pulling taut as you got closer and closer to your orgasm. He gripped your jaw tightly, tilting you head to look back at him as much as you could. "Look at me." He demanded, his voice low and rough. "I want you to keep your eyes on me when you cum." He growled as his other hand left your hip to slide between your thighs, his fingers toying with your swollen clit. "Cum for me, doll. Milk my fucking cock."

Your brain went fuzzy, thighs shaking, stars exploding in your vision as you came all over his cock. You bit your lower lip roughly to hold in your cry, the taste of copper hitting your tongue. Your walls squeezed his cock, fluttering around him as your rode out your high.

The feeling of you pulsing around him sent Jason over the edge. He bit your shoulder, his groan vibrating against your skin as he drove himself inside of you with one more frantic thrust before stilling inside of you, painting your walls with his release. His whole body shuddered as he held onto you tightly while his orgasm washed through him.

He let out a long sigh, his forehead resting between your shoulder blades. You let out a shaky exhale, your legs trembling so much that you had a hard time standing up. He stood up, tucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up, planting a kiss to your temple. "You did so good. My good girl." He whispered into your hair as he carried you into the house.

For the rest of the night he made sure to take good care of you. He cleaned you up gently and made you up a bath, insisting on washing your hair and your body for you. Then he made you some tea just the way you liked it before settling into bed with you, holding you close to his chest until you fell asleep snuggled in his arms.

❀ end note: thank you again to my bestie for the request! ily 🤍

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

it was so hot you could melt on the spot, hence why you asked your best friend if he could wait with a cold treat for when you came over.

naturally, he waited for you on the balcony, trying to get some fresh air since the apartment felt like an oven, even with the ac on.

he bought you a popsicle, which had been in the fridge until you came.

however, since it was way too hot, he started eating his as slowly as he could, hoping you wouldn't whine about him being impatient.

when you finally arrived, you were sweaty and breathing heavily, looking for anything that could cool you down.

instead of patiently going to the fridge and retrieving your favorite popsicle caleb diligently got for you, you walked towards him and took a bite out of the one he was holding.

the one he was eating.

the one that had been on his mouth.

the one that touched his lips and tongue.

his eyes went slightly wide as he watched you not only steal his cold treat, but… share something so shamelessly.

was he making it weirder than it actually was?

absolutely.

but were you giving him an indirect kiss?

yes.

yes, you were.

your tongue swirled where his tongue had been just seconds ago, and—

dear god.

“gosh, it's hot as hell today,” you mumbled, fanning your face with your hand before handing the popsicle back.

it sure fucking was.

“sorry for taking yours, i needed to freeze my brain. where's mine, by the way?”

caleb was still speechless, the image of your lips, your relief, your expression…

you probably tasted like the popsicle now, and since he had the same flavor on his tongue, he could almost say he was savoring you.

he could also imagine your tongue swirling against his, so soft and wet, so sweet, and… and… and—

“leb? you should head back inside!” you called out, walking towards the kitchen without him even noticing. “you're getting sunburned and red already!”

oh.

if you only knew it wasn't because of the sun…

he quickly moved and offered his popsicle back, his strong back covering the fridge entirely so you wouldn't peek inside.

“take it. i… forgot yours,” he said, to which you arched an eyebrow.

him?

forgetting?

“huh?” you didn't believe him at first, but seeing his flushed expression made you mistake it for sheepishness. “so you were eating mine, you thief? how nice of you, really…”

and yeah, he preferred being incriminated rather than stop seeing your lips doing whatever they were doing before.

you kept licking the melting popsicle absentmindedly, cooling yourself down while he stood there feeling like he was being slowly cooked alive instead.

“this flavor's really good, though,” you hummed.

yeah. he knew.

he could still taste it.

god, this was humiliating.

“you want some back?” you asked sweetly, offering it towards him again.

caleb nearly choked on air.

because now all he could think about was your saliva on the popsicle, your lips wrapped around it moments ago, your tongue—

“no,” he answered way too fast. “take it, angel.”

“you sure…? alright.”

he turned his face away immediately, resting a hand over his mouth as if that could somehow stop the disaster unfolding inside his head.

this heatwave was going to kill him eventually.

but this was as close as he got to knowing what a kiss from your lips tasted like, and he would enjoy the view a little bit more, even if it was the last thing he did.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

he wouldn't lie, his ego was bruised after an admirer of his suggested a lip balm, since his lips looked a bit chapped during a conference.

but, hey, he lived under the sun, and he was constantly biting his lips when focusing, it was only natural!

usually, those comments didn't affect him, but this one… it got to him.

he wondered if you thought the same, if maybe you looked at his lips and considered them crusty and dry as the desert.

he could die of shame.

and so he bought said lip balm, “just because,” and because it was a “bargain.”

of course, since you went to his house quite a lot and considered yourself the second owner of everything, —because he let you, and because it was fun to prance around his huge place, acting high and mighty— you helped yourself to the interesting things he had, and one of the best places to explore was his bathroom.

he had tons of lotions, soaps, oils, salts, and… oh!

was that a lip balm?

just what you needed.

you hummed as you made a duck face in front of the mirror and dramatically applied the clear product to your already nourished and hydrated lips.

rafayel walked by, and immediately stopped in his tracks, his head tilting ridiculously.

his pretty eyes travelled across your hands, your lips, and then the counter.

you were, indeed, using his lip balm.

your lips were touching what he had been using that very same morning.

on his lips.

your lips.

his lips.

oh dear lord.

his knees buckled, yet he leaned against the doorframe, acting as if it were a nonchalant gesture.

“so, uh… you… you just come into my house and take ownership of everything, cutie?” his voice came out steady, thankfully, but the furious pink tainting his cheeks became more pronounced when you grinned unapologetically.

“yup!” you nodded, pressing your lips together. “this brand is so good, too!”

right.

not only were you stealing his stuff, but you were stealing his heart, too.

“why do you have one anyway? your lips aren't even dry,” you asked, turning to him and placing a hand on your hip. “or is it to make your lips look more luscious?”

he grinned automatically, bowing oh so deeply.

so you thought his lips looked good? that was amazing news.

“thank you, thank you. i knew people with good taste still lived among us…” he straightened up, only to find you getting closer. “but i just like to have one… just in case.”

“hmmm… here, put some on,” you offered.

and, once again, his confidence disappeared as quickly as it came, because the lip balm touched his lips, which meant your lips were indirectly touching his now… which also meant it was definitely considered a kiss.

“there! so glossy!” you grinned, rubbing your thumb against the corner of his lip to get rid of any excess. “you're welcome.~”

rafayel turned around abruptly, using his hands to cool down his burning face.

how could his heart possibly resist the mental image of what your soft lips would feel like against his, and then your tongue—

no!

“you— you… you can keep it. i don't really need it,” he stuttered, before fleeing into the next room with long strides and his eyes shut tightly.

you blinked, confused, but then smiled brightly.

you successfully got your hands on another thing of his, which took you a step further in becoming the owner of everything.

and that included his heart and soul, even when you didn't intend to.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

you walked inside the living room after spending the entire day with the twins, and thought it would be a fantastic idea to bother your pesky partner in crime for a while.

he did the very same exact thing whenever you thought you'd have peace, so it was only fair.

he was obviously occupied with his phone, scrolling down with one finger, glasses perched over his sharp nose as he tried to decipher your “omg gaggg, fierce is fierce hunni xxx” comment under one of his posts.

he was still processing the twins' lingo, and you weren't helping at all.

you plopped down next to him and poked his cheek, grinning from ear to ear.

“what are you doing, sy? playing games? reading the news? online shopping?” you rested your chin on his shoulder, following his finger like a kitten watching a laser.

“i am browsing the net,” he simply said, to which you hummed in contemplation.

after some seconds of pure silence, you started to bounce by his side, poking his cheek, taking off his glasses, and, ultimately, picking up his mug and drinking some of his coffee.

usually, sylus would let you do as you pleased until you got bored and eventually walked out of the room, but…

there was something different today; something in the way your lips touched the very same spot his had earlier, without any shame at all.

he paused, looking at you, before looking down at your lips, his head now full of interesting… thoughts.

if your lips were over a spot he previously put his on, then you were tasting what his lips were like.

almost.

you probably tasted the coffee way more, but now the mug had a mix of both yours and sylus' mouths, and that, subsequently, described what a kiss was.

…or, well, technically.

“ugh, why's your coffee so bitter…? you need to sweeten up, sylus!” you pulled the mug away and placed it down. “do you enjoy suffering so much?”

ironically, you licked your lips clean; a bold move for someone who apparently despised his coffee.

it only made his pupils dilate a bit more, given your tongue now tasted what remained of him.

it sounded way more intimate than it really was inside his head, but this instinctive, almost primal curiosity was getting ahead of him.

“perhaps,” he mumbled.

when you least expected it, he took the mug, having carefully watched where and how you took a sip, just to replicate it seconds later.

now he was tasting your lips for a change, and while it wasn't the real thing, it sure as hell made him feel alive, even when his face was once again focused on the screen, and his expression remained calm.

you were too oblivious to notice this unintentional exchange of indirect kisses; and it wasn't as if you'd mind, either.

maybe sylus would actually kiss you one day.

after all, you were already “poking” his interest, both figuratively and literally.

but today wasn't that day; not when he knew you weren't being purposely charming.

instead, he grabbed your waist and pushed you away when you tried to climb onto his lap like a clingy cat.

“stay put,” he quietly said. “and don't touch my coffee if you find it so… appalling.”

but oh, he knew that would only make you finish it out of spite, and that's exactly what you did, once again creating that brief connection between the two of you.

he would now think of more ways to get you to (technically) kiss him so, so shamelessly and eagerly.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

xavier and you were having a lazy day, surrounded by snacks, board games you guys had become too bored with, and the low melody of your favorite playlist playing in the background.

you were munching on some popcorn, all while xavier opened a new little box, almost a little bit too secretly.

it's not like he didn't like to share, but… somehow, every time he opened a snack, your supersonic hearing made you turn to him and ask him to give you some, which ended up in him giving everything to you.

come on, he just couldn't resist your pretty eyes and your hopeful expression without feeling like a monster.

and since he was being way too quiet and sneaky all of a sudden, you obviously turned to him, finding a long, chocolate-covered stick between his teeth.

his eyes went a bit wide, knowing he had been caught in the act.

“gotcha…” you whispered, narrowing your eyes. “what's that?”

he didn't answer; still like a petrified bunny being cornered by wolves.

or, in this case, a very hungry and charming big, bad wolf.

you crawled closer to him on the sofa, outstretching your hand.

“sharing is caring, xavi,” you mumbled, trying to sound sweet, but it only made him lean back, further away from you. “come oooon, be nice…”

he didn't want to.

he knew that once he gave you the box, you wouldn't share a single pocky, and this time, he put himself first.

however, what he didn't expect was for you to cage him in and take a bite out of the sticking-out end of the pocky, barely brushing his lips as you did so.

his body shut down right there, and while his jaw wanted to snap open, he wouldn't risk losing the other half and let you get a full victory.

“there, you can keep your half,” you grinned victoriously after swallowing, taking the box from his slender fingers. “let's see, almond chocolate-covered pocky, limited edition…”

your voice faded in his mind as he stayed there, frozen and shocked.

your lips had… had touched his, albeit faintly.

but they had.

your face was so close to his, your lips were so soft, your scent invaded his nostrils unapologetically…

his entire face became flushed, his azure eyes travelling anywhere but your face.

he wanted that to happen again, and again, and again.

so, when he finally came to his senses, he opened yet another bag of snacks, which contained spicy chips this time, and he placed one between his teeth, acting all secretive again.

as expected, you jerked your head around and narrowed your eyes.

“keeping more secrets from me, huh? what's that?”

he tried to pull back, acting oh so guilty, and you basically took a bite so quickly he barely had time to register that your precious lips had brushed against his again.

this was heaven.

“you've got a secret stash or something? because that's not very nice of you, y'know?” you sighed and shook your head dramatically. “every time you share with me, new flowers bloom, by the way. just so you know.”

well.

if that was the case, he'd gladly feed you from his lips so that spring would last forever.

he pulled another pocky stick from the box and placed it between his lips, his voice now slightly taunting, even when his eyes held that faux innocence and surrender.

“come get it…”

and it worked, since you gladly took another bite, this time not noticing xavier's pursed lips and closed eyes.

maybe sharing everything with you wouldn't be so bad anymore.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

it was late at night, and you were still in the kitchen, watching and trying out all of those cooking hacks and easy recipes you saved on your phone.

of course, you ended up with thousands of different dishes and snacks, and you had no idea what to do with all of them, so… you called the only sane, nocturnal person who would come over after work.

zayne.

he usually ended up starving after his shifts, and you knew he would always say yes to you, no matter how frustrating it was for him.

after a few hours, said doctor was at your door, not knowing what to expect other than a few containers with food that would certainly save him a lot of time.

however, when you pulled him inside, he saw lots of differently shaped apples, homemade chips, uh… carrot gummies (for some reason), multiple, muuuultiple ways of cooking potatoes, healthy chocolate bars, and, thankfully, lasagna in the oven.

you grinned proudly, gesturing towards your kitchen with a tired but pleased expression.

“now… you're witnessing something amazing,” you nodded seriously. “not only will you have the best snacks of your life, but you'll learn how easy they were to make!”

oh god.

this would take hours.

you explained each plate with excitement, pushing your failures into the trash without blinking, smiling as if you didn't know what was going on.

“the best part is, i nailed everything on the first try!”

“...of course you did.”

the more he looked around, the more he noticed the mess.

he was about to complain, when you appeared with a spoon, guiding it to his lips.

“try it,” you urged, not even giving him time to process as you pushed your hand further.

he blinked in surprise before watching you take said spoon to your lips, licking it softly.

“good, no? that was the new mashed potatoes recipe i saw…” and as you kept talking, zayne's brain went blank.

the only thing replaying in his mind was how you took the spoon out of his mouth and licked it clean yourself.

the spoon.

the one that touched his tongue—

his ears went red almost immediately, and you tilted your head.

“oh no, is it too spicy? i swear i only added a dash of pepper! …or was it cayenne pepper? hold on—”

he was frozen in place, unmoving, unreactive.

his glasses fogged up, and he didn't even register the mild burn on his tongue.

he was way more focused on your tongue, or rather, your tongue touching his.

not directly.

but his mind quickly painted said picture, and it wasn't unpleasant; quite the contrary, really.

he could almost taste your lips, feel the foreign sensation of your tongues tangled together, and—

…and you came back with a glass of milk, pouting slightly.

“sorry! i might've gotten a bit excited with the spices… it's okay if you don't want any! i'll pack the rest of the food so that you have something to eat for weeks!” you eagerly announced, and he took the glass, taking a sip.

“it… is fine. do not forget the lasagna.”

he needed to freshen up, like, immediately.

but what he also needed was to stop imagining sharing more things with you, like this glass, or a lollipop, or… or a kiss.

a lingering, direct kiss that made him flush even harder than the spices did.

“oh, right! i haven't tried it yet,” you softly said. “wanna try it out, zaynie?”

from your lips or a shared spoon?

oh boy.

anytime.~

Your blouse is buttoned asymmetrically, your hair resembling a bird's nest, and you left your ID at home, making your arrival more delayed as you had to employ Garcia’s help in presenting a copy of your ID to let you through. 

That too was not without stress given that your phone was on the verge of dying as you were in the call, but thankfully you could finally breathe in the elevator. Or so you thought. 

There were two things that immediately caught you off guard as you walked into the bullpen: one, almost all the desks were deserted and two, Reid and Morgan were watching you- as if waiting for your reaction, which led you to look around in anticipation. Is there a surprise? A prank? Did I miss a patch? I’m…wearing pants, right? 

Not wanting to prolong your search, you look at the two for any indication or clue. Tilting your head to the side as if to ask what? But to your surprise, they both nod their heads in one direction. Oh.

Strauss was in Hotch’s office, along with Rossi and a woman you don’t recognize. Hotch looked a bit tense, Strauss firm, Rossi is as relaxed as ever, and the woman… is looking directly at Hotch. Just Hotch. Huh. 

You were stood just shy of your desk when you shook thoughts out of your head, slowly approaching your desk to settle your things. Dozens of scenarios were running through your head, trying to make sense of new additions to an otherwise normal day. 

But the way she was studying him made your chest tight like someone was stepping on it.. and you couldn’t figure out why. 

You approach the two rascals only to lean on Derek’s desk as you whisper under your breath, “What’s happening there?” 

Morgan shrugs but his focused face remains, “I don’t know, kid. I tried Garcia but she doesn’t have a clue either.” Eyes studying the people in the room, noting anything that could tell them something. 

Mulling over more possibilities, you hum in response. Turning to Reid, you ask him- hoping that his eidetic memory can tell you anything about the woman even if they’d only met in passing. 

“Do you know anything, Spence?” But Reid only pouts at you, a sign that he’s thought about it hard but is coming up empty. 

Shaking his head, he soberly replies, “No..I don’t think so. I– I’ve never seen her before. Sorry.” 

Before any more thoughts could be voiced between the three of you, the door to Hotch’s office opens and all four of them file out- the woman walking a little too close to Hotch. 

-

You’re approaching your usual seat on the jet beside Morgan and across from Hotch when suddenly Agent Seaver overtakes you and sits on your seat. Caught by surprise, your eyes instinctively go to Hotch who’s already looking at you. 

He nods to himself, moving from the aisle seat to the one by the window. But it appears Agent Seaver misunderstood his gesture and moved beside him, “Oh! Thank you, sir.” Even going as far as touching his arm and leaning closely. 

Now, you’ve never been a violent person. Rage has just never overcome your senses like that but today.. of all days– you couldn’t help the image of spilling your hot chocolate all over her cream blouse. 

You don’t even notice that you’re frowning as you sit beside Morgan, somehow still unaware of how much their closeness really upsets you. You honestly thought you’ve maintained an expressionless face until Morgan looks up from his file and leans close to whisper in your ear, “You’ll need claws not paws, baby girl.” Winking at you as you separate. 

You steal a glance at Hotch only to see him watching you and Morgan with furrowed brows. He almost looks normal if it weren’t for the clenching of his jaw that’s his tell of irritation. Moving your gaze to Seaver, in case you missed something that’s causing his new mood, you find her reading the case file. 

As you return your gaze on Hotch, you watch as Seaver touches his arm again and engages him in conversation about the case. It’s through the whole jet ride that you had to stomach the constant Agent Hotchner, Agent Hotchner! paired with a giggle or a slight touch. UGH!

If it weren’t for Strauss personally recommending Agent Seaver as a consultant for this case, you would have done– …still absolutely nothing. You had no claim whatsoever over Hotch. Morgan and Rossi may tease the two of you occasionally, forcing that he treats you specially or whatever but his behavior could simply be chalked off as him being a good and attentive boss. 

And yes, okay fine. You may have some moments here and there… but! they could honestly just be built up in your head because of the feelings you have for him. Like when he said he likes it when you stare? Come on, being stared at can be flattering and that’s just a universal truth. 

- 

After a whole day of coming up with theories, visiting crime scenes and M.E.’s, you’re all completely spent. Lounging in the makeshift discussion room, all of you are still working tirelessly on the case given that the unsub’s on a spree and his timeline is alarmingly short. 

Reid’s been silently staring at the board for 20 minutes while Morgan’s pretending to read files of potential suspects with his legs stretched out and feet on the table, “This is impossible. We just don’t have enough.” He exclaims as he tosses the file on the table with a thud. 

To the left of Morgan, you’re also silently mulling over files of potential suspects. Not wanting to admit that he’s right, you guys don’t have enough…bodies. You barely have anything on the guy, barely any clues- for a working profile. 

You sigh heavily, peeling your eyes off the paper and looking at the board. “Reid?” The boy genius shakes his head softly, confirming that the known dump sites don’t say much about the unsub’s comfort zones or hunting ground. 

You suddenly wonder where Seaver, Hotch and Rossi are. You and Morgan got back to the precinct at around 11PM, and you realize you haven’t seen any of them, “Where are the others?” 

Morgan, in an effort to lighten the mood, jumps at the chance to tease you, “Hmm. I think what you’re really asking is: Where’s Hotch and is he with Seaver?” He punches your arm lightly, making it obvious he’s only teasing. 

The smug, playful smile on his face makes you fight one of your own, desperately trying to not give yourself away, “Shut up,” hitting him in the head softly with the file in your hand. 

While you two were exchanging playful glares, Reid interjects, “Seaver wanted to turn in early since she’s also the one meeting with the families tomorrow so Hotch brought her to the hotel.” 

You instantly lift your gaze to him and watch as he removes the marker’s cap and scribbles rapidly on the board, quickly adding “And I’m pretty sure Rossi’s getting us coffee from the diner around the block.” 

You want to blame it on your exhaustion– your inability and ineffectiveness at hiding how you truly feel about what Reid just revealed to you, groaning loudly in pain and frustration. You put your head in your hands, muffling the sounds you’re making that are somehow a combination of a laugh and a sob. 

Morgan understands your reaction immediately and laughs out loud. 

“It’s not funny!” There was honestly no point in hiding it. As much as Morgan teased you, you knew he wouldn’t tell anyway, and Reid.. well, he was honestly an even better keeper of secrets than Morgan, Rossi and Garcia. 

He puts a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, “Baby girl, worry not. You know you hold a special place in boss man’s heart.” Then gripping both your wrists to pry your hands off your face. 

Pressing your face even further into your hands, you let out a muffled version of “That’s not true!” that came out more as “Daffs noft thwu!” 

When Morgan successfully pries your hands off your face, you’re surprised to see Reid’s moved from the board to behind Morgan, half leaning half sitting on the table, curiously watching you. 

Morgan turns around to look at the door behind you, making sure the coast is clear before he says, “Kid. Be real with me for a sec… are you blind?” That was not the question you were expecting. 

You must have looked so lost because he continues, “Hotch cares for you. Deeply. And not in the same way he does for us. You’ve gotta have felt that, kid.” Funny, you are starting to feel like a kid– the only thing missing are his hands on your shoulders to complete that huddle pep talk experience. 

“That’s just not–” you try to start. But Reid swiftly raises his hand, signing you to stop–

“Did you know that every morning Hotch makes sure all the pens and mug handles on your desk are pointing to the right– the way you need it to be– in case the night janitors move any out of place?”

“Or that he never really ate lunch in the office before but started bringing sandwiches and other food he could microwave, while timing his lunches with yours presumably so he could strike up a conversation with you during break?” 

“Or do you remember that one time the AC in the bullpen broke and we were all sweating badly, and I said the heat was making me too thirsty then he disappeared into his office and came back with a bottle of water and an orange juice box only to give it to you?” 

Morgan lets out a loud laugh at that one while Reid pouts playfully, “I mean I was genuinely dying then.” 

Not without his own input, Morgan smiles softly at you with a raised brow “Did you know he personally restocks your favorite hot chocolate in the pantry and on the jet? Including the marshmallows.” 

You breathe in deeply, the revelations sounding too good to be true but winding nonetheless. You crack a small joke, trying to play it off “And I thought the bureau was just feeling really generous.” 

The two, who have grown to be such brothers, give you the exact same look of Really? 

As Reid rounds the table to go back and stand by the board, Morgan catches your attention and holds your eye, “Look, there’s so much more, kid. But they all point to the same thing.” He says this as softly as possible, as if to not scare you away. 

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. Shaking your head, “That just can’t be true.” 

With all three of your backs to the door, you don’t notice Rossi nearing. You just suddenly hear his voice from behind, rounding the table and settling the coffee cups in front of all of you, “Coffee, anyone?” 

As if trapped in the null of the previous conversation, you’re still looking at Morgan as you lean back in your chair, slumping further to seek non-existent cover. Reid, who is now back in his own world with the board, is handed a cup by Rossi, who didn’t even turn to look- only stretching out an arm to receive it and mumbling a distracted “Thanks.”  

Rossi, who is simply too smart for his own good, impressively senses something hanging in the air, nonchalantly asking about the tailend of a conversation he was not supposed to hear, “So… what can’t be true?” 

Back to lounging excessively on a chair that is a tad too tiny for him, with legs outstretched and feet on the corner on the table– Morgan spouts, “That she’s Hotch’s girl, and has no reason to be jealous of Seaver– who by the way needs the HR orientation more than Penelope and I.” 

-

Now– all of your backs are to the door except Rossi’s. Not one of you tried to move due to fatigue, let alone look.

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan, and Reid, on the way back to the precinct from the hotel, Hotch had the genius thought of picking up Rossi so the latter wouldn’t have to walk a block with trays of coffee on hand.

Hotch and Rossi arrived together. And as Rossi went around the table to give you your cups of coffee, Hotch stayed behind– leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed, watching you and the team.

Imagine his surprise, hearing what Morgan just said. His heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped. His entire being froze entirely.. What? Jealous? 

In his mind, he had two choices: Act like he didn’t hear it and save you from embarrassment or use it to his advantage and make his intentions clear..ish. 

-

You gasp loudly at his bluntness– and in front of Rossi! Straightening in your chair and pointing an accusatory finger at Morgan, “You little– I am NOT jealous! and I am NOT Hotch’s–” 

Cut off by someone loudly clearing their throat from behind all of you, you all freeze, including Reid who hasn’t been actively paying attention until now. 

The hair on your neck stands up as you hear the nearing footsteps, already envisioning digging your own grave in your head when finally, Hotch is standing right beside you. 

You’re all still pretty frozen, save from the slow movement which is your eyes slowly lifting its gaze to the man in question until they meet his hazel orbs. He holds your stare as he leans on the desk, arms straining in his shirt– 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Rossi fighting a smile, and just as you’re about to mentally curse him in your head, you’re broken out of your thoughts by a deep voice,