where the monsters live (masterlist)

Summary: Hotch and Derek decide to buy a house that's been in Hotch's family for generations. They get more than they bargained for.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (there will be background Reid/Alvez too)

Notes: See AO3 for warnings & tags. This story is the newest installment in The Chicago Times universe and something I've been planning to release in October for a while. Chapters are posted to AO3, and I will keep this masterlist updated as I go. If you've read the other 100k plus words in this universe, you know I never get too dark so this story will be a little spook but the whole point of this universe is a happy post-BAU life so it won't get too dark.

Chapter One Chapter Two

Summary: An exploration of Hotch & Morgan as friends with benefits during the season 3 divorce arc told mostly through how Rossi finds his place on the team.

Words: 12.5k (6 chapters - FINISHED)

Warnings: see AO3 for tags

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Notes: This was written for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends With Benefits Challenge! I don't think I've ever produced anything short for Pom's challenges, but this might take the cake for length. I didn't exactly use a prompt, but I was inspired by "A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B." It isn't exactly that but the vibes are there. Anyway! I had a lot of fun with this, and it's been years since I posted a new chapter every day. Who knew short chapters made it easier to post daily? (The past me that wrote the Hotch in prison story, that's who. I don't know how I got so far away from her.)

Read it on AO3: NOW OR NEVER

@masterwords sent prompts from this post, so here is a short Hotchgan piece that is mostly Derek pining and being yelled at by his younger sister for, "A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them."

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“So?” Desiree demanded, drawing the word out like the gum she had chewed as a kid, stretching it between her teeth and her fingers until it snapped, howling with laughter when her older sister scowled and called the whole thing “unsanitary” and “unsightly” and “Mom, how can I walk her to school when she’s like this?” “Did you ask him?”

“It’s been busy,” Derek hedged, the phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder, both hands busy sanding down the intricate woodwork in his latest project that a previous homeowner had decided to paint yellow and brown. Desiree groaned, and Derek was pretty sure the thump was his little sister collapsing dramatically onto her bed. “It has!” he cried, ready to recount a series of murders that could have occurred within the last two weeks. Desiree never watched the news anyway, she would wouldn’t know.

She also wouldn’t let him finish his excuse.

“You hunt serial killers for a living,” she interrupted, and Derek could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “And yet you make time to visit Mom every year, so I’m sure you could find ten seconds to ask the guy you’re madly in love with if you’re dating or just fuck buddies.”

FIC: I KNOW YOU TOO WELL

Aaron knows more about Emily than she thinks. Post ML.

Read over on AO3 : I KNOW YOU TOO WELL

It's nothing special, folks, but after a couple of months I managed a short and cute hotchgan fic. Keep your expectations low. lol

fast pitch

Summary: Derek takes Hotch and Jack to a baseball game, a first date memory that will last a lifetime.

Words: 2.4k

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: see AO3 tags

Notes: I wrote this last year, and never posted it. I don't really know why. But I'm cleaning out my WIP folder and I liked it so…here you go. As is. Short and sweet.

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Derek smiled and pulled the tickets out of his pocket, fanning them out so Hotch, even with his bleary headache eyes, could count them. One, two, three. “I was hoping you’d bring Jack too, actually. Figure if I’m gonna try and date his dad I should probably make sure he’s cool with me.”

“He already loves you.”

“Well, what do you say?”

“Will you be wearing Cubs gear to the game?”

“Absolutely.”

“And we have to sit together…”

“That’s the idea.”

“Can you cheer quietly?”

“Not a chance. I’m gonna be the only Cubbies fan in the stadium, you better believe I’m yelling. Might even paint my face, who knows.”

Hotch smiled and nodded. “It’s a date.”

Read the whole story on AO3!

the dark sacred nights

The first of probably many Criminal Minds + White Collar crossovers from me! I'm all over the place lately. And you know what? This time last year I was STRUGGLING so hard with writer's block and now I'm riddled with too many ideas and I'm just going to embrace it and go with it. This story is zero plot, it's just about 2k words of character study to see how these people all work together.

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The sun is out. No, it’s not just out it’s blazing. There is a chill in the air as the breeze whips through the shuddering trees, but the way the sun beats down on Hotch’s face is exactly what he needs. He didn’t know it before he started walking, before Peter called him and asked for a quick meeting. “I’ll come to you,” he had said, but Hotch was up for the walk. His body might not have been, the protest in his aching joints was loud and persistent but still the walk was nice. The walk meant he was alive, and after the night before that was a pretty big miracle.

“You look terrible,” Peter says, offering Hotch half of his sandwich as soon as he manages to ease his aching bones down onto the wooden bench. He’s always done that as long as they’ve been friends. Deviled ham wrapped in wax paper. Hotch had never known anyone as old fashioned as he was before meeting Peter Burke but when they were together it was like a meeting of kindred spirits. Hotch takes the sandwich and nods. He doesn’t always accept, but Peter always offers. That’s the thing about him.

One of the things about him. Another thing is that he doesn’t like being worried about people he loves. He doesn’t like being worried or being kept in the dark, and right now he’s reeling from both. White Collar didn’t exactly deal with terrorists, but he’d been in Federal Plaza at the same time as Hotch and hadn’t heard a peep out of him.

“I don’t know.” Hotch replies in a voice that’s almost too quiet. His jaw hurts, spits fire up into his ear at the movement. “I think I look alright all things considered.”

He can barely hear, the entire world sounds like it’s underwater but that’s a hell of a lot better than the intermittent high-pitched screaming that accompanies all of the pain. There is no scream right now. He’s just scuba-diving in Manhattan, waiting for the headache that follows the silence. It’s like having the bends without ever setting foot in water.

“You’re okay though?”

“I’ve been better, but they said I’ll live.”

Read the rest on AO3!

and now the time has come

Summary: Peter Lewis has Hotch in his sights, and the only thing to do is for he and Jack to disappear. (The beginning of the WITSEC story we deserved.)

Pairing: None (yet? who knows? for now, hotch remains solo)

Words: 4.2k (and counting)

Notes: I want to write about Hotch in WITSEC. I want to hurt him and give him adventures and see what happens during the year or so that he's stashed away out of sight. This first story will be 3 chapters (2 are done, 1 is in progress) and then it will become a series of related one-shots. Please let me know what you think? It gets lonely out here in the void. (I will make a landing page for the series soon.)

Chapter One

Chapter Two (coming soon) Chapter Three (coming soon)

the eve of destruction

Summary: Hotch is in bad shape after his ordeal with Mr. Scratch, and while coming by his house to help out one day Spencer is faced with temptation. When he gives in, he has to find a way to fix it before it destroys everything he holds dear.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: drug addiction (see the rest of the tags on AO3)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Notes: This is for my love @domestikhighway58 <3 Be kind, I wrote this is a matter of hours so there are probably horrific errors.

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Spencer hesitated at the door. There was a key in his hand, a key to a door he’d never opened, never been through, never even faced before. Hotch’s apartment lay beyond the threshold, and it was silent. The last time he’d seen Hotch, he was sitting hunched over and bleeding in the back of an ambulance arguing with EMTs and Rossi about whether or not he needed to be taken to the hospital.

Rossi and the EMTs won in the end, when he tried to stand and suddenly couldn’t. It was frightening to watch from afar, from beside the police car that was revving its engine ready to take Peter Lewis to the nearest police station. Watching Hotch’s knees buckle beneath him, watching Rossi reach out to try and catch him before he hit the ground.

“Just go check on him for me please, kid?” Derek had asked, and how could he say no? He desperately wanted to say no, send someone else, send someone more qualified. Someone who has been here, who has been inside Hotch’s home. Someone who belonged, but no. Derek insisted. “I want it to be you, Reid.”

Putting the key in the lock felt wrong, but he had to do it. He couldn’t chicken out now no matter how big it felt. How wrong it felt. The worry he was riddled with over what he would find on the other side – a gun leveled at his face, if Hotch wasn’t prepared for his entry? Hotch passed out or worse on the floor? There were too many scenarios, each one shockingly worse than the last.

What he found was nothing like those quick twitch nightmares, and the sense of relief he felt as he surveyed the apartment was immediate. Hotch was sleeping on the couch, sleeping peacefully from the looks of the gentle rise and fall of the blankets over him.

His instructions were to check the place out, make sure everything was good, and to disturb Hotch as little as possible. “He just needs to rest,” Derek had pointed out. “No tv, no phone, no books. Not a lot of conversation.” They had no idea what had happened to him in the hours that he was alone with Peter Lewis, but his injuries were extensive enough to warrant a few days at home. Spencer suspected that was mostly to do with him wanting to hide them, not to mention what happened in any case files. He could get away with a bump on the head and a few days off, but if he showed up to work clearly out of sorts people would ask questions. This was about the only way to get Hotch to take time off.

Read the rest on AO3!

the calamity

Summary: A series dedicated to HIV/AIDS and how it has touched the lives of Morgan and Hotch. (Morgan is HIV+)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan (plus Haley & a few OCs for each in the past)

Warnings: see individual stories on AO3

Notes: I've been thinking about this for a while and decided to take the plunge. In the first story linked below I lay the foundation, and now as with all of my other long series, I will fire off one-shots and other multi-chapter stories at will. I welcome thoughts, comments, requests, etc! (title for series coined by paul monette and because he owns my entire heart, i decided to use it as a sort of tribute.)

The Stories

pain gives me the right - 12k words (2 chapters, complete)

like the heart don't lie

Summary: Reid falls in love with Hotch after a night that ended in a drunken kiss, but by the time he works up the nerve to make his move...he's too late.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan, Unrequited Hotch & Reid

Words: 9.7k (and counting)

Warnings: see tags on AO3

Notes: Yeah, so I just closed down one multi-chapter nightmare and opened another. I am the master of good decision making. My current writing style, in case anyone hasn't noticed, is simply embracing the chaos. I can tell you that while the start bears a striking resemblance to Running Toward Nothing, this story will veer off in a completely different direction. I hope you like it as much! Thank you for coming along with me!

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Chapter One Chapter Two

curve of the earth

Summary: Hotch & Gideon go undercover in Astoria to try and find a serial killer's ex wife. Hotch also manages to find love…and more secrets.

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 11.8k

Warnings: see AO3 tags

Notes: Kindergarten COP AU, because I'm a sucker for undercover stories. That's all. Sorry for never updating my big stories, writing isn't really vibing right now. My head's not in it. I'll get there! In the meantime, enjoy this spectacle of borderline crack-fic proportions.

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“When we land in Portland,” Jason said, breaking into his third bag of airline peanuts. They were so salty that his fingers were coated after the first couple and Aaron had to turn away in order not to see when the salt dusted his lap. It was a short flight but he claimed to be famished. Aaron had given him his own bags, preferring to stick only to a small cup of iced club soda while Jason ate almost non-stop since they’d met up that morning. Aaron was staring out the window, skimming the clouds as the sky went from bright blue to the pale gray of the northwest. It had been too long since Aaron had been here, a fact that made him feel weary. He hadn’t lived here long but it became part of him and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he started to get close.

Jason continued munching on his salted peanuts and talking a little too fast about what the plan was. They’d been over it multiple times already but once more wouldn’t kill either of them, Jason figured. He had a lot of nervous energy and flying across the country, being cooped up in a passenger airliner in coach, he had nowhere else to put it. His knee bounced, his voice droned on and he only interrupted the plan by more eating.

They hadn’t been working together long but Aaron had already become well acquainted with Jason’s endless nervous energy. “You listening?”

“I am. You’ll go to the baggage claim, I’ll get the rental car. I’m driving because I’m familiar the region. Got it.” He didn’t mean to be short, he just didn’t have all of that nervous energy. In fact, he had none. What he did have was a headache.

As they crested the airspace over central Oregon, Jason’s stomach grumbled. He burped, pressing his fist to his mouth to try and hide it, and Aaron did his best not to pay it any mind. About ten minutes later he was rubbing at his stomach and Aaron had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

“Everything alright?”

“Not feeling too hot. I’m sure it’ll be fine by the time we land.”

“Couldn’t possibly be something you ate…” Aaron muttered with a smirk that Jason didn’t care for. He’d put more food into his mouth in the time they’d been together than Aaron usually did in two days. Five minutes after that first burp, Jason was pulling the little white puke bag from the chair in front of him and resting it gingerly over his lap. Just in case.

Read the rest on AO3!

who do you think you're fooling?

Summary: Hotch breaks an important date with Morgan and is faced with the choice: make a big gesture to get him back or risk losing him forever. (Spoiler alert: he makes the gesture.)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 6.2k

Notes: I listened to Cher's album "Believe" on repeat for hours while writing this. I could keep editing this forever to include all of the vibes but I'll spare you. (Or maybe I'll just do this story again later with MORE VIBES.) The club described is one I used to go to ages ago for drag shows (though not even close to DC so here it's totally made up) and this trip down memory lane was a fun place to insert these two fools for a short time. Anyway. This is a silly little romp through a lover's spat set to the enchanting music of her highness Cher. Listen to "All or Nothing" and you'll feel this fic I think. if I did my job.

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“I saw Morgan at a gay bar last night,” Emily whispered, leaning so close to Reid’s ear that he could feel the spider-leg tickle of her hair as it cascaded over her shoulder and onto his. He shivered and pulled away just slightly, frowning.

“What?”

“Last night. Gay bar. Derek Morgan.” She was grinning wildly, that kind of cat eating a canary grin that he thought made her look like a movie star. Her smile was too wide, too perfect, and for a split second his attraction to her was through the roof. It overshadowed everything she said. “Hello?”

“Sorry,” he muttered, shaking it off. She was just like that. She kind of made everyone stupid sometimes. “What were you doing at a gay bar?”

She looked dumbfounded and a little shocked that that was where his mind went – not on the juicy gossip but on her own culpability. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised by that, she would have reacted the same way. “One of my good friends is a drag queen and she was performing last night.”

“Ahhhh,” Reid hummed, nodding. He didn’t entirely believe her. “So maybe Morgan was there supporting a friend too?”

She didn’t like his tone. The accusation that one or both of them was lying. “Look you little turd, he was on the dance floor surrounded by men and doing neon green jell-o shots. He knew every word to ‘I Will Survive’...isn’t that about as gay as it gets?”

Reid shrugged, trying to keep his features as neutral as possible. Part of it was simply that he didn’t believe it, there had to be an explanation. Derek Morgan liked women, maybe a little too much. In Reid’s imagination, he was taking home a different woman almost every night and whether he knew their name or not was of little consequence. He didn’t want to think of that being wrong because it meant he didn’t know Derek as well as he thought. It meant Derek was keeping a big secret from him, the kind that begged the question – why? His response to Emily’s question as about as lame as it got.

“I know all of the words to that song too.”

Read the rest on AO3!

Title: Their Shadows Deep, Chapter 1/? Pairing: Morgan/Hotch pre-slash Summary: Aaron's dead. Foyet isn't. Neither of them, it seems, are going to leave Derek alone. Notes: Warnings in tags. I've been working on this idea of ghost Aaron forever and I'm not sure where it's going but here have a beginning and talk to me about it. Set in early season 5.

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Aaron kills himself on a Monday.

Dave says it’s a Sunday night in his report, and Derek sends the report back with edits in red ink, scratches Sunday out until the pen goes through the paper and gouges a stripe out of his desk. Of course, Dave also says that Aaron died in the line of duty saving a young woman’s life, but Derek can’t do anything about that. For one, it certainly garners Haley and Jack a better emotional and financial legacy than what Derek might like to write. Also, Dave believes it’s the truth.

Everyone else at the Bureau, in the capitol, at the funeral – everyone else says that’s just the kind of man Aaron Hotchner was. A good man. A hero. Derek agrees with them. He shakes a lot of hands at the funeral, not because he was close to the Hotchners—though with Jack on his shoulders and safely out of reach of everyone’s pitying hands he supposes he’s close to at least one of them—but because Derek Morgan is now head of the BAU and he’s someone to know, and the fact that they’re standing beside a good man’s casket doesn’t deter them at all.

Jack’s only four. He’s too young to understand, and he and Haley had been in protective custody for months, the kid probably thought his dad was just away for work again. His tie is loose, and Derek thinks of being ten years old with his tie too tight and his mother’s fingers clenched like a steel trap over his shoulder, Sarah beside them and Desiree already six and too big to be clutched to her mama’s chest. Dozens of neighbors and uncles, officers and family friends had told Derek that his father was a hero. They’d told him he was the man of the family now. They’d shaken his hand.