#Aaron hotchner x reader

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ you're still a traitor : criminal minds x fem! reader [ pt. 1 ]

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau! reader (unrequited) | spencer reid x bau! reader | s7 team x bau! reader (platonic)

summary: being in love with your boss was hard. especially when there were so many factors surrounding you that made the possibility of being with him, out of the question. for starters, there was your age gap, and hotch was a stickler with baggage that he couldn't quite disclose to you. hotch was a fantasy, always out of your grasp, that is until emily dies. in the four months that followed emily's death at the hands of ian doyle, you found yourself living a life that you'd only ever dreamed about. hotch was careful, but the proof was right in front of your face as he went out of his way to care for you while you grieved. how stupid of you not to realize something was horribly wrong. but now emily was back, and hotch was back from reassignment in pakistan, and you were all on trial, and absolutely nothing makes sense except for the bitter understanding that you were a pawn in a game that in so few words was "way bigger than you." but at least you had spence.

content warnings: this is literally a barrel of angst. reader breaks the skin of her palms with her nails. mentions of slight! anxiety. follows the plot of "it takes a village" aka the iconic "this is calm, and it's doctor" episode. flashbacks x present day! spencer has been crushing on reader for as long as she's been crushing on hotch. hotch is NOT romantically interested in reader. slight! hotchniss vibes (but that's up to your interpretation. jj x reader angst! reader does not react to emily's return well. mentions of unit transfer / bureau resignation. spencer confesses to reader... open ending making room for a part 2! heartbreak, drinking, crying. best friend! penelope garcia + derek morgan. reader has a sister & niece.

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Your leg shakes violently as you sat just outside the court room, hands balled into tight fists as your nails press deep into the callousing skin of your palms. You couldn't say you were nervous, as far as the previous case was concerned you'd done everything you could to save Declan. You'd take whatever suspension they'd throw your way without batting an eye. You didn't regret the part you played, no, you just regretted the team that you were apart of.

It had been a crazy seven months. You remembered when things turned left, back when Emily started acting weird. She was shorter, snappier, she had less patience with any of you. Long gone were the days of wasting your time with jokes and innuendos. She had a lot on her mind, a lot none of you were privy to, and you remembered how you'd stretched yourself. You'd all tried so hard to show her you were there, to let her know that you could be trusted.

Your face contorts into a scowl, it had become your new resting face in the last few weeks. God, you hated how stupid and naive you'd been back then. Now that everything was out in the open, it was almost too obvious where the deception began. What was the point of taking care of people who had no trouble treating you like some disposable pawn piece to be moved to fit their whims. Damn. You were crying again, you'd been doing that a whole lot too lately.

You scrub furiously at your face, and you hate your teammates a little bit more. JJ had gone first, face devoid of any timidity or uncertainty. Long gone were the days of Jennifer Jareau the Liaison, she was a profiler now, one of you. When she'd come back, you'd been ecstatic. The unit hadn't been the same since she was transferred, you'd missed her so gravely. But now, now the sight of her just reminded you of the secret you'd been holding on the tip of your tongue.

Hotch wasn't the only one who had known about Emily.

You feel a hand moving to rest on the top of your thigh, and you flinch violently. You sniffle audibly, eyes moving to rest on Penelope, your God-given solace. Your best friend. She, Derek, and Spencer were the only ones who wholeheartedly understood what you felt. But even still, Hotch hadn't used their feelings to make them blind, the way he had done with you. He'd played you like a goddamn fiddle, and you'd let him. Because you were weak, stupid, grieving, and in love.

Hotch had never been in the cards for you, not that you weren't beautiful, gorgeous, an amazing agent. You had the stamp of approval of both Agents Gideon and Rossi. Erin Strauss had been (by your request) rejecting every request of transfer any other unit had tried to offer. You were an asset to the bureau, and a major part of this team. You'd been around since the beginning. You'd witnessed doe-eyed Spencer Reid join at age 23, full of facts and anxiety.

You'd seen Derek blossom and break out of his play-boy persona, and become someone that other branches of the law fought to have. You'd been around for so long, you'd witnessed so much, and Hotch knew that. Which you suppose is what you allowed yourself to believe was the reason he'd never shown signs of reciprocating your feelings. He was respecting your future, leaving your options open. But those were the delusional musings of a girl in love with someone she can't have. Hotch wasn't into you, and you knew that.

So why, why, why did you let him convince you of the opposite? For even one measly second? And, yes, of course in the grand scheme of things you understood why he did what he did. But it didn't make it hurt less. In fact knowing his duty to Emily outweighed his duty to anything else just made this whole ordeal feel more like a slap to your face. Penelope gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze, and you're pulled from your running mind. You blink, registering her worry.

"Are you alright?" she asks, and it's the first time anyone's asked you that since the first day. You know they were giving you space to cope, which only seemed to reaffirm your feelings of betrayal and loneliness. "We'll get out of this, alright? And we'll-we'll be able to be a complete family again." she proceeds, and serves you right for believing someone understood what was going on. They'd all misunderstood you. They thought your behavior was fear of the team being dismantled. Some profilers you were surrounded by.

"I'm fine, Garcia." you say, and you can't bite the snippiness if you wanted to. "I just want to get this over with, and get the hell out of here." you add, and you're standing up, Penelope's hand dropping limply as you move your seat. You find a more isolated corner, plopping back into the uncomfortable seat, as the legs squeak slightly. Your leg is back to shaking, only now you've taken to chomping on your bottom lip. You don't imagine Penelope's hurt expression, you know without a doubt that you'll cave. And you can't.

Not this time.

Your phone chirps in your pocket, and you jump once more. Your jumpiness was a new attribute triggered by the amount of sleep you hadn't been getting. Pulling it out you see that it's a call from your big sister, and you curse under your breath. You were supposed to be watching your niece so your sister could pick up an extra shift. None of you had really expected for things to go this far.

"Hey..." you wince, because you can hear the heaviness of your feelings ladled over your words.

"Hey, are you alright? I got a call from Spence." and you're surprised. You look up, searching for the brunette anywhere in the vicinity, and find that he hasn't shown up yet. It's a bit of a shock, especially for someone as punctual as Reid. You did however spot JJ still meandering about, and she's not looking tense at all. Despite your anger towards her, you couldn't deny that she'd quickly fallen into the role of a profiler. It fit her almost like a glove.

"Spencer called you?" you ask, and you hear the tension in your sister's sigh. You imagine that she must be exhausted. Your sister did a lot, and managing a blossoming family was hard. Your niece was five, and she had a new addition to the family on the way. Which was why it was so important for you to be there on the days she needed you to watch your niece.

"Yes, he said something about..." your sister lowers her voice. "Emily." she questions, and you find your head nodding despite the fact she can't see you. "Are you alright?" she asks again, and this time she emphasizes how important it is for her to hear directly from your mouth the state of your wellbeing. Your sister seemed to always see right through you, it was a wonder she wasn't the one in the FBI.

"I'm-" you trail off before you can lie. "I'm sure if they could they'd disband the unit." you whisper, and you look up just as Derek is exiting the court room, Penelope looking terrified as she takes his place. Derek scans the room before he spots you, and his eyes soften. JJ approaches him and the two seem to chat animatedly. Still they look so serious, there was no room for smiles and banter today.

It's not long though before they're looking at you again, and you know that they know. Your self isolation wasn't something you were exactly being subtle about. You immediately look away, focusing in on what your sister was saying. "Bad decisions or not, they're no good without your unit." she says, and pride still manages to swell up inside of you. "You guys do good work. You work because you're together, everyone plays their role." she proceeds, and it's then you shatter.

Play your role. What role exactly did you play? Hotch was the stoic leader that somehow seemed to play the role of pseudo-father so well for every member of the team, with the exception of Rossi and Derek. Derek, was the shoe-in for promotion. The older brother who teased you relentlessly, but would fight til his last breath to protect you, and he always did. JJ, the pretty girl. The one who everyone on the team at some point had been attracted to. But more than that, she was resilient, a subtle glue that kept your unit running.

You quickly slot through everyone else's roles in your head, and huff. What were you except the odd-woman out. The dummy with a crush on your unit chief, and too much knowledge for your own good. You supposed that was why Hotch had to distract you with exaggerated gestures. If you got out of your feelings and really thought about it, you knew that if anyone on the team was going to see through the smoke, and uncover the truth about Emily, it would be you.

So he had to handicap you. What better way than by hanging the possibility of a romance in your face. Still, it was cruel. Just more proof that this was not the family you made them out to be. "Yeah, I'm not so sure." you reply, and you can hear how disgruntled you sound. It smacks you like a ton of bricks, and it's then you truly realize just how hurt you were by everything. Your sister sighs deeply, and it makes you second guess yourself. Were you being irrational? Unfair?

"I know what Hotch did." she begins, "And it was awful to play with your feelings like that." she expresses, and you feel validated. "And nobody's expecting you to just welcome Emily back with open arms after months and months of thinking that she was dead. You were deceived, and I want you to feel however you want, okay?" she says, and you don't respond, mostly because it feels rhetorical. "Just don't do anything rash without thinking it through alright?"

You don't know what she means by that so your eyes roll. "I think we're well past that, if they find us guilty I could lose my job." you remind her, and she chuckles. You don't find it funny, you can't. Your love for the job outweighed a lot of things, so it had been a no-brainer to help Derek seek out Ian Doyle. You wanted his head spinning on a pike, and you weren't planning to take no for an answer.

two weeks prior.

You were sitting across from Derek, steaming mug of coffee in your head that was more french vanilla creamer than anything else. You held the staged photograph of Declan and Louise. Derek's holding an identical photo, a heady sigh escaping him as you both rack your brains for some sort of bullseye. Something that would point you right in the direction of Declan. "Okay, Emily needed to get Declan a new identity." Penelope says as she walks into the office. She sits in the chair right beside you, arm full of stress balls and files. "So she must have used someone that she trusted." she proceeds.

"Alright, well that's a short list, but it's probably not even written down." is Derek's tired reply.

"Even if it was, she's been so many places, with so many different points of contact. " you speak up, and you take a sip from your coffee, praying it kicks in and wakes you up a bit. "It's not gonna be super easy to track and narrow them all down." you say, and you realize your mistake just as Penelope is placing a file in your hands.

"Oh, tell me about it. Two columns, domestic and imports." she says as she passes the other to Derek, who's looking at you with an amused smile stretched across his face. Serves you both right for underestimating the genius of Penelope Garcia. "I accept your apology, cutie." she says, leaning into you as you grin, smacking your lips in a kiss.

"Hey." JJ's at the door of the office, all three of you turning to look her way as she beams brightly. "Have you guys seen, Spence?" she questions, and you remember how you'd offered to bring him a coffee as a respite from the garbage water they served in the bullpen. He'd shut you down politely asking to reschedule as he was going to be spending his day at the Firing Range. You understood the need, he wanted to protect himself, and the team. He had to get better.

"He's at the firing range." you and Penelope speak in unison, making eye contact, as hers narrow. You knew instantly she would have questions about why you of all people knew Spencer's whereabouts.

"Again?" JJ questions as you shrug your shoulders, her eyes flitting towards you.

"Ever since Prentiss died, he..." Penelope speaks your thoughts.

"Right." JJ nods her head. "Uh... did you guys just get a new case?" she questions, hands clasping together in front of her.

"It's just an old one." Derek answers.

"Do you want some fresh eyes?" she asks, and it's painfully clear that she's still figuring out how to feel more like the team again.

"Not just yet." Derek denies, and he's polite, but you knew why he was being this way. You were all for keeping anything related to Doyle under wraps until you were further along.

"Ok. Um, well let me know." she hums, and then she looks back at you. "Y/N, can I..." your eyebrows raise as she trails off. "Can we talk? It'll only take a second." she hopes, and you look to Derek and Penelope for a moment.

"We won't do anything big without you." Derek promises, and you nod, closing the file, and handing it off, before you stand to your feet. You follow JJ out of the office, and down the hallway, stopping just before you reach the heart of the bullpen. You look to her expectantly, a bit confused, but not on edge. You had missed JJ, and in the two months she'd been back, it'd been pretty hard to get some real time with her. You'd hoped a break in the case would help to change that.

"Everything okay, Jaige?" you ask, and you witness how she exhales in relief right in front of you.

"God, it is now." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. She seems to understand the confusion on your face as she lets out a chuckle, dispelling more of her own tension. "You've been calling me Agent Jareau since I got back... not JJ and definitely not Jaige." she explains, as it seems to register for you. "I guess I was just a little worried I'd done something to make you mad at me." she admits, and she's clearly sheepish.

"Oh." you chuckle yourself, and you reach out to hold her shoulder. "No, you've done nothing wrong." you promise. "I've just been a bit in my head these last few weeks, but I'm really glad you're back." JJ beams at your words, and all the remaining tension in her posture dissipates instantly.

present day.

"Hey, everything alright?" you look up, pulled from your thoughts at the presence of Spencer Reid. He's holding a medium cup of a steaming liquid that you can only assume is coffee, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "I remember you asked me a few weeks ago about coffee." he holds it out, and you're quick to press your phone to your shoulder, neck craning slightly as you take it.

"Thanks, Spence." you mumble, and you can practically hear your sister's smirk from the other line. "Could you just give me one second, I'm talking to my sister?" you question, and Spencer nods his head, eyes widening in understanding. You smile politely, and he beams back at you, pretty eyes seemingly brightening before he's making his way over to Derek who's smirking like the nuisance he is.

"Hey." you mumble once he's gone, and your sister is snickering. For some odd reason she'd been dropping hints that maybe the guy on the team you should be setting your sights on was Spencer. To your defense, it wasn't like he wasn't attractive. You'd be an idiot to deny his boyish charm and good looks, but after he'd sat you down and admitted he had a crush on JJ, back during his second year, you'd sort of blocked any potential attraction towards him out of your head.

Now he was just Spence.

"Hey, I should go. I just wanted to check in, Spence made me aware of everything so I've got everything figured out on this end." she promises you, and you nod once more despite yourself. "Just think about what I said, alright? It'd be a shame for you to leave behind such a good job." she finishes, and you don't know how to respond to that, so you don't. "Call me later?" she questions, though you know she's telling you more than asking.

"I will." you reply, and she sounds pleased as she exhales.

"I'll talk to you soon." and then the phone is clicking. You adjust your grip on your coffee, using your free hand to grab your phone, and place it down on your lap. The coffee smelled good, it was from that cute shoppe that sold different pastries and always smelled like cinnamon. You'd been there with Spencer and Penelope a handful of times, and they always made your coffee exactly how you liked it. Still, Spencer had never ordered for you so you await a mishap.

The first sip warms you up instantly, and you're knocked flat on your ass by how on point the drink was. Your eyes snap upwards, looking across the lobby towards Spencer, who's awkwardly sitting in a seat, Derek beside him. JJ was gone now, but you figured she was probably with Hotch and Emily, the three of them had been attached at the hip since the team was "back together". You're certain them being gone was what led you to standing to your feet.

You walk towards Derek and Spencer quietly, slipping into a seat next to Spencer as Derek leaned up against the wall. "I didn't know that you knew my coffee order." you whisper, and Spencer turns to look at you. He offers a half smile, you were certain you'd be passing a lot of those back and forth until the court proceedings were done with.

"Of course I do." he shrugs his shoulders. "I pay attention when you talk." he promises, and you wonder why he had to like JJ, and why you had to like Hotch. On paper, and off paper Spencer Reid was the perfect candidate for boyfriend, plus he never pretended to be into you to keep you from finding out the truth. You both fall into silence, there's not much else to say, but you let his words repeat in your head. I pay attention when you talk. It makes your stomach twist.

"You alright over there, pretty girl?" Derek's voice barely reaches over a whispered volume. It seemed you all were feeling the dreary aftershocks of an ordeal like the one you'd found yourselves in. You look up at Derek tiredly, and you don't understand why he's asking you this, not until you feel the scalding heat of hot coffee singing your skin. Two sets of worried eyes are drawn to your cup, it's squished in your palm, brown liquid streaming everywhere.

"Shit." you hiss, and the cup falls to the floor, you're quick to clutch your burnt hand. God, you were really torn up over this.

"I'll get this cleaned up." Derek promises, and he looks at Spencer as if he was communicating something he didn't want you privy to. Spencer falters, only for a second before he's reaching out for your forearm, and guiding you to your feet. You trail after him, walking down the long corridor, listening out for the telltale sign that Penelope was done, and they'd be calling you next. On your route you pass JJ who looks concerned as she looks between the two of you.

"Spence, Y/N?" she says, and you avert your gaze, you're not sure if you're more angry or embarrassed.

"Sh-she spilled some coffee." Spencer explains, but he doesn't stop walking. "Shouldn't be more than a first degree burn, if she soaks her hand for five minutes, everything should be fine." he is passive as he speaks, eyes never quite meeting hers as he continues to lead you.

"Let me take her." JJ offers, and both you and Spencer are quick to offer denials. She looks hurt but masks it quickly. "It's not like you can go into the girl's bathroom with her, right?" she says and it's then you both realize you've got no other choice. He looks to you, trying to gauge how you'd feel about it, and you sigh. Maybe this was for the best, you could finally get things off your chest with JJ. It was only fair. He seems to clock the instant you've decided, and concedes.

"I'll be right out here." he promises, and you nod slowly. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't get the chance to.

"Spence." JJ says his name a bit more sternly, and he resists the urge to cut his eyes in her direction. He ignores her long enough to take in your ailed hand, he saw the way the skin began to redden and swell. He seems cross as he passes you off to JJ, and you feel a bit silly being fussed over for something as minute as a coffee burn. JJ's earnest in the way she takes you to the nearest women's restroom. You hiss the second the cold water comes in contact with your skin.

You don't say anything to JJ though, losing your nerve the second the two of you were alone. She looks like she's waiting for you to say something though, eyes brimming with some sort of unease. She was reading you, using her new skills to profile you. You suppose that's exactly what pushes you to finally speak. "We said we'd never profile one another." you remind her crossly, and she's sheepish. "Just because you're doing it in your head doesn't make it any less invasive." you keep your wrist in place, hissing silently.

"If you would just talk to me I wouldn't have to go that far." she counters, and you blink. Fair, but you had every right to keep your distance from her. Just because the rest of the team was still more or less unaware of JJ's role in harboring the secret of Emily, you'd read right through her.

"What's there to talk about exactly?" you ask. "None of us want to be here dealing with this." and you take the route of the naive girl.

"I'm not talking about with the trial... and the senators." she shakes her head, and she's almost pleading as she tries to catch your eyes in the mirror. "I'm talking about Emily." she deadpans. "Everything that happened?" she proceeds. "You've hardly said a word to her since she came back." she doesn't want to come off like she's scolding you, and so she takes in a breath before her tone can become defensive.

"I don't speak to ghosts." and it's a quiet little dig that she hears all the same. It forces a tense silence to wash over the restroom, the only sound slicing through the awkwardness is the water rushing from the spout. JJ clears her throat, blinking a few times as she adjusts your wrist, allowing the water to evenly coat your burn. Only a few more minutes of this and you could make your grand escape.

"That's not fair." she finally voices her thoughts with a deep sigh.

"Isn't it?" you snap. "Seven months we thought she was dead." and you suppose that was a mistake of hers, getting you started. "Pretty lucky that you were off at the Pentagon, right?" you ask sourly. "Or was it lucky that you were in on the whole scam? I mean you were at the funeral, but you didn't have to cry, you didn't have to grieve." you accuse, and JJ's jaw slackens, clearly surprised at your outburst.

"I lost my friend too, okay?" she counters and you scoff.

"Did you?" you argue. "All those nights I called you crying, all those texts, those check ins... how long did you know Emily was still alive?" you demand, and JJ's feeling cornered, and her heart rate is picking up. She knew there'd be mixed feelings about this, but she'd never expected to ever be at odds with you. You, Spencer, and JJ rounded out the younger crowd on the team, it was your job to stick together. "Answer me." you insist, and you sound so crushed as you speak.

"I knew the whole time." she answers, and you nod your head, because of course you already knew.

"Exactly." you sneer. "You're a liar." you hate how angry this whole thing makes you, but you can't deny it. They'd played with your feelings, all of them, and now you were meant to behave like nothing was wrong. "Did you know about Hotch?" you ask, and JJ flinches. She doesn't answer for a while, and the water seems to rush even louder in your ears.

"I told him it wasn't smart." she finally answers. "But we needed to ensure that Emily wasn't at risk, it was harmless... just some flirting to keep you from getting too close to the truth." and JJ is speaking as if this wasn't some major breach of your position as coworkers and alleged friends. "He'd never cross the line." she reminds you, and the reminder that yeah, Hotch would never be with you makes you wince.

"And he didn't." she says this like she knows for certain. "It was flirting, Y/N. it didn't mean anything, we just needed you to..." and she trails off when she sees how destroyed you look at her admission. "Y/N..." she trails off, and you inhale sharply.

"Don't." you exhale, and you snatch your hand from her grasp. The cool air of the bathroom immediately attacks the welts blooming on your hand. You don't have time to pay them any mind.

"We just wanted to protect you... and keep Emily safe in the process. The more of us that knew Emily was alive, the more of a liability we'd be while Doyle was still on the run." she says, and you suppose in the grand scheme you understand. As profilers, as special agents working for the FBI they'd done great work. As your friends, as people you'd considered family for years... they'd betrayed you.

Plain and simple.

"Congratulations, you did exactly what you meant to." you say dully, and you sniffle, though no tears are set to come. Instead you feel more anger blossoming in the pit of your gut. "I hope it was worth it." and it's dramatic, but you deserve the dramatics, sidestepping the blonde and leaving her behind just as Emily is stepping inside. She looks at you wide-eyed, before she sees JJ standing there seemingly frazzled.

"Is everything okay?" she questions, and you don't offer her an answer, instead leaving the restroom as your earlier words ring in your head. I don't talk to ghosts. And you don't, and despite your history you'd never allow yourself to. You find your way back to the seats that led to the courtroom, Derek was gone, the only person still there was Spencer. He stands up as soon as he hears your shoes.

"Where's Derek?" you ask quietly.

"He left with Garcia." he answers quietly. "I guess they're dismissed for now. They're in with Dave now." he explains, and your eyes shift to the door. More than likely you or Spencer would be next.

You sit down, and Spencer follows you, sinking back into his seat as his legs just barely brush against yours. "Are you scared?" you ask, and Spencer's head shakes.

"Are you?" he shoots back, and you look away from the door.

"Not of this." you admit. "But of what comes after." you add and Spencer's pretty brown eyes are swimming with confusion. "Can we really all bounce back from something like this?" you ask, and it's rhetorical, but he answers you all the same.

"We've come back from worse." he reminds you, and that faint smile is worming back onto your face.

"Sure we have." you agree numbly. Spencer's eyes drop to your hand.

"How does it feel?" he asks, and you follow his gaze with a shrug of your shoulders. He doesn't look pleased by this approach, and it makes you sigh.

"Just feels like I ran some water over it." you admit, and Spencer chuckles. "A bit anticlimactic if I'm honest with you, Doctor." and you're partly teasing, mostly because it's so easy.

"You'll need some sort of petroleum jelly... there's some pretty good products that aren't at all carcinogenic like the leading brands." he begins on a tangent, and it makes you smile a bit bigger. "That with some gauze is the perfect remedy for such a mild burn." he proceeds and you look down at it. There's a moment of silence between you, before he's talking again. "Can I ask what happened?" he whispers.

You hum, almost like you're pretending you can't hear him.

"With the coffee? Was it not good? I tried to follow your order exactly." he says and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"It wasn't you or the coffee, Spence." you promise him, and without thinking you reach out, small hand resting on his shoulder. "The coffee was perfect." you insist, and he relaxes, but not enough. "I guess I'm just thrown about all of this." you proceed. "No matter how much I try to remind myself that they did this to protect Emily... that their deception was for a good reason, it just makes me angrier. Why is it that I have to rationalize being angry?" you question.

"I have to reign my feelings in for the sake of the team." you're careful not to grow loud. Spencer's eyebrows are pressed inwardly, head shaking.

"You don't." he denies you quickly. "You shouldn't." he corrects.

"You're right." you agree, and your silent for only a second. "I wish everyone could be like you, Spence." you say, and your words surprise him. He feels this familiar wave of adoration that always seems to swallow him whole whenever he was around you.

"Really?" he knows it might be pathetic, to be hopeful for something like this. The chance to hear what popped in your head whenever you thought of him.

"Yeah." you say firmly, and he tries not to look too eager. "You're so smart." you tell him, and he knows this, but it still feels nice hearing it from you. "And you're always nice to me." you add with a quiet laugh. "And you'd never lie to me would you?" you ask, and in truth, it's not a fair question. Spencer wasn't in the position the others were in.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and he fears it may be the wrong response. You don't even react, at least not that he can tell.

"Nothing." you settle on, head shaking from side to side. "Forget I mentioned it." and he doesn't really want to remind you that his memory quite literally makes that impossible. "I heard that you weren't fighting the suspension." you say conversationally, and he's surprised, mostly because the only person he'd told about that was Derek. Which meant you had been talking about him when he wasn't around.

"I guess I just stand by everything we did." he tells you, and your hand still hurts a bit, but it's definitely a problem for a later version of you.

"Me too. I'm glad we got Doyle, and Declan's safe." you exhale, and despite your anguish towards the team, you meant every word.

"And the team's back together." Spencer himself doesn't sound so convinced. You look over at him at this, your own unconvinced expression slowly cracking through his attempt at a cool facade.

"Is it?" you ask, and Spencer's face softens, a small little frown taking over his otherwise usually content face. He couldn't admit it now, mostly because it didn't feel like the right time, but he paid attention to you. He knew all about your complicated feelings for Hotch "I don't want to be on a team with people who purposely keep me in the dark about things." you ask, and Spencer pauses.

"I'm sure they wouldn't if they had another choice." he offers, and it's not how he feels at all, but it's what you need to hear.

"You don't believe that." you deny, and Spencer can't fight his chuckle. "Or maybe you do, you've always been good at seeing the best in people."

"Oh, do you think so?" it's a bit of a surprise. With your job description it would've made more sense for you to tell him that he saw the worst in people. He felt it was a fair thing to say that he was exceptionally good at his job, but it's then he recognizes what it is you're truly saying, or at least alluding to. It makes his face heat up immediately, cheeks blossoming a rosy red that makes him want to roll his eyes.

"Of course." you promise, and then you're looking at him again. Your face is one of the prettiest he's ever seen, and it's not even subtle. You seem a bit uncertain of your own allure though, which to him is a major shock. "You're like the best person ever." you add, and he expects you to snicker or show some sign that you were joking, but you don't. Bad for him, because his deluded mind full of fantasies starring you would take words like those the wrong way.

"I think you're the best person ever..." he's whispered this, but you hear it all the same, and he's lucky enough to witness the way your entire face morphs. Despite the bleariness in your eyes, you beam brightly. He hates though, that you start to cry. It starts with one tear slipping down your cheek and dripping into your lap. The onslaught comes right after, and before you know it, you're choking on sobs.

"God..." he hears the bitter tang of self-loathing that attaches and weaves itself into your otherwise honey-filled tone. "You're making this so hard, Spencer." you huff, and you scrub at your face harshly. He doesn't understand, but he's too frozen in place to ask you what you mean. Lucky him, you seem to know that you've got explain a bit, so you do. "I'm gonna resign." you say this quietly, sniffling as more tears fall. Spencer feels like he's misheard you.

He wants to have misheard you. He flounders a bit, and he's mentally scolding himself, because he has to hurry the fuck up and say something. "You can't!" and he's scolding himself again for sounding too eager. You jump a bit at the outburst, and he winces right along with you. "We just got everyone back." he reminds you, and you exhale, head nodding in understanding.

"I know." you promise him. "Why do you think this is so hard. You think I want to be the asshole that turns the unit on its head?" you ask. "But I can't stay here and pretend that everything's fine... or act like I don't feel thrown about all of this." you proceed, and of course, Spencer understands, he's upset he was lied too as well.

"I understand." he admits with a sigh, and you let out a quiet noise of relief, almost like you were worried he'd be upset with you. He assumes this is just him being delusional again. You look like you have something sitting on the tip of your tongue, so he stays silent to give you the room to say all that you need to.

"Have you ever had feelings for someone?" you ask. You chuckle at the look he shoots you, "Not just for a second, Spence." you proceed. "I mean like... take your breath away, kind of almost-in-love feelings." you indulge, and Spencer's keen to shut his mouth. Yes, is the loud and resounding answer that rings in his head, because foolishly he'd allows you to captivate him like the siren you were almost three years prior. He'd be a dummy to tell you such now though.

"I-" he blinks harshly, eyes feeling too dry. "I can't say I have." he lies, and he remembers your words from earlier, how you'd praised him for being someone who would never lie to you. You don't seem to notice his deception though, and if you do, you're too in your own head to comment on it.

"Good." you say with a shuddered breath. "They're nothing but a headache, especially when the person doesn't want you back." you exhale the words, and it's like a dagger is being lunged into his chest. How dense could you possibly be with all your super smarts?

"Did something happen with Hotch?" he asks, and now it's your turn to be embarrassed, face pinching up as you choke on a breath. "I don't mean to pry, if it's personal... it's just that-" he trails off, seemingly waiting for you to berate him or tell him to back off. You don't, instead your nose twitches, and you begin to look at your shoes. "Y/N?" he nudges you with his elbow, and it's light.

"No." you finally say, head shaking. "I thought maybe..." you trail off, more embarrassment slicing at you as you cringe. "But it was all a ruse, just a way to keep me from getting too close, and figuring out everything about Emily before they wanted us to know." you say and Spencer's eyebrows furrow.

"They?" he pries, and you look at him like he's silly.

"Hotch and JJ." you answer plainly, and it takes Spencer a second. JJ who he'd went to for comfort for ten weeks? He blinks at you, and you shrug. "So you see... anyone that could take my feelings and use them to manipulate me... are they really worth sticking around for?" you ask, and Spencer doesn't want to validate you in this way. He wants to be selfish, he wants you to stay on the team.

He thinks about how devasted everyone would be. How devasted he would be to walk into the bullpen and find that your desk was empty.

"I don't want you to go..." he admits, and it's quite pitiful, the sadness that soaks the words like gasoline. You find yourself chomping on your lip again, nails pressing into the cuts of your palms, and Spencer's catching your bad habits in real time.

It's a bit invasive, the way his hand surges out, and stops you in your tracks. "Please don't do this." and you're not sure if he's talking about leaving the unit, or if he's referring to the gashes littering your hands. When he holds your palm out flat, and rubs his thumb across the bleeding indentations, you find that you understand quickly.

Every few seconds it's ebbing with more droplets of blood, and he's quick to wipe them away like they offend him. Just as he's moving to say something else, the doors to the courtroom are opening, and Dave Rossi is exiting, his eyes immediately on you and Spencer. You must look foolish, hands intertwined as you stare wide-eyed at the team's senior agent. It's probably why Spencer is dropping your hand as you're snatching it away from his grasp.

You still find that your eyes are quick to appraise one another. He's looking at you, and you're staring back, mouths parted as if you'd been caught. Had you been caught? Had there really been anything to catch? You don't have time to answer, because you're being called next. You frown at Spencer, standing to your feet as he feels his pulse threaten to leap to disrespectful speeds.

"Y/N..." he calls after you, and you stop for a second. Eager eyes fall back on him, and he's trailing off, because the look in your eyes says it all. If you got out of this without being fired, you could imagine a world where quitting the FBI no longer made you sick to your stomach. Silence befalls the space, and he shakes his head after a beat. You look disappointed but not surprised, inhaling deep and audibly as you march towards the court room.

Spencer doesn't know what you're going to say, but he hopes recalling all you'd been through in the last few weeks will be enough to make you stay. At least until he has the courage to ensure that you leaving the team doesn't equate to losing you entirely and completely.

[ssahotchnerr]

okay i wanna see how aaron would react to reader being scared of a spider. like she sees a spider in the bathroom or something and screams and aaron runs in like “honey, what’s wrong?” and when he sees what made her scream he’s like “…y/n really? it’s smaller than your finger” or something like that !!

my hero

PLEASE that's so cute cw; fem!reader, spiders, established relationship, aaron being fluffy and lighthearted teasing <3

a shriek came from further within the apartment, followed by a desperate and distressed, "aaron!"

"honey?" abandoning his current task, aaron's feet carried him quickly down the hallway, rounding the corner towards the bathroom. the door was wide open, revealing you perched atop the closed toilet.

"what are you-" he entered, his first instinct being to look down at the ground.

"no, there."

you pointed frantically at the sink's countertop, or more specifically, the corner where the counter met the wall. there, was a small (while you'd insist otherwise) brown spider, with its legs scrambling as it attempted to climb up the smooth, slippery marble.

aaron's eyebrows quirked quizzically, before furrowing into a highly amused line. "a spider?"

"yes." you said as your gaze shot to him, eyes wide. like, hello? obviously?

a small laugh shook through aaron's chest, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes returned to your current houseguest. "and it was necessary for you to get on up-"

"just get it, aaron, please." there was a despaired strain in your voice, as if he didn't, you'd have no choice but to succumb to tears.

"i will sweetheart, don't worry." he pushed off the frame, ripping a small piece of toilet paper from the roll. with complete ease, and no hesitation, he smushed the spider, prompting a wince to come from you.

from both the spider, and simply him interacting with it.

"wait," as aaron moved closer to dispose, you sidestepped to the tub, standing on the edge. you reached out, grabbing onto his bicep to maintain your balance.

"it's dead, honey."

"and what if it jumps back to life?"

"then i'm sure it's first order of business will be to attack you." he quipped back, his tone playful.

as aaron reached down to open the toilet lid, you took that as an opportunity to clamber onto his back. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs around his waist, slipping down towards his thighs a bit without his usual, sturdy hold; you were going to stay as far away from that spider as you possibly could.

his strength didn't falter despite your unannounced action, dropping the deceased in and flushing. your cheek suddenly came flush to his, scooting your body up his back as much as you could manage, allowing you to watch it spiral down the drain.

once satisfied, and the toilet rumbling to a stop, you hopped off aaron's back, a bright smile forming on your face. "thank you." you cheesed, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. "my hero."

"you're as bad as jack. worse even." aaron teased as a smile formed on his face. he grabbed your hand to guide you from the bathroom, clicking the light off behind the two of you.

[kisses4reid]

red tissues | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you get nose bleeds regularly, the alarming increase in their appearances gets aaron’s attention, especially when you wake up one day to blood covering your entire face for aaron to see.

genre - hotch x fem!reader, fluff

warnings - lots of mentions of blood, nose bleeds, mentions of being over worked, sickness

a/n - i’m going to open a permanent taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in every criminal minds fanfiction i write, so either comment on this or make a request that you’re interested! ❤️

The office was buzzing with the sound of typing and chatting, pens being passed and chairs being adjusted. The night was surely coming, sun setting against the window panes to cast shadows onto piles of files. Your desk was dark and your pile was unfortunately much taller than everyone else’s. Funny how shooting a criminal earns punishment through 10 more files to fill out. 

But right now, all you cared about was filling your Snoopy mug with something. The coffee machine was broken by a certain muscly man, so some tea bags delivered that day were your only solace. Chamomile. Sounded tranquil enough. 

As you waited for your beverage to brew, you glanced back to your desk and then to your teammates. You should’ve taken Spencer and Emily’s offers to take some files off you, but being a perfectionist and selfless, you kindly declined. Shoulder’s slumping, you pulled the mug close to your nose and took a long smell, closing your eyes in relief. 

Suddenly, right before you could take the much needed first sip, a pang hit your head and your eyes and eyebrows ached, causing you to clench them. When you opened your eyes, the light brownish-yellow of the tea was mixing with red.

Blood. Shit. 

You swiftly turn to grab some tissues as your boss, Aaron Hotchner, was grabbing his plain mug from the top shelf, you hadn’t even noticed him in your panic. He followed you with his eyes as he grabbed a green tea packet. The tissues held against your nose were turning red and soggy. And before he could ask what had happened, you had abandoned your mug and vanished from the room, heading for the bathrooms. 

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows and noticed the discolouration in your mug, before grabbing it and washing it out for you. 

A few days later, Morgan and Reid were sat in front of you, JJ leaning on your seat’s armrest as Aaron conversed with a lawyer over the phone. Prentiss covered the basic details of the case but all you could focus on was the slight pang in your heart when you heard Aaron chuckle at whoever was talking with him. Though your eyes didn’t leave the case files, your ears were suddenly attached to your boss’ voice. 

Which was much closer, after he sat down next to you. 

You felt stupid, being happier now that his attention wasn’t on some other woman, even though his attention still wasn’t on you. He sighed as he sat, a whiff of his strong cologne circling the group as they updated him on other details they had caught. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a 14 year old girl crushing on her teacher, but alas, you would continue.

“We noticed all of the victims went to private religious schools, most of them went to church as well. Y/n pointed out how in all of their photos, they were dressed in a conservative way - which is a contrast when we look at their ages.” Spencer started before Rossi added,

“They’re all teenagers, nearly turning 20. They all had boyfriends, and we found that one of them was already engaged.” 

You listened carefully, looking at the faces of the victims that were spread on the table, “As well as the common religious commitments, they all had one other thing in common.” You squinted your eyes with a short breath, feeling a headache approaching before you pointed something out that nobody else had noticed, “Same initials, all of them.” 

Hotch nodded, “Amy Sanders, Alice Soo, Adriana Santiago and Alexa Smith. Nice work, Y/n.” 

But before you could reject the complement and internally squeal, a throb attacked your head, and your eyes scrunched to create wrinkles you would try to massage away that night, before you threw your hand under your chin to swiftly catch a drop of blood. It was like a 6th sense these days.

“Excuse me.” You croak, leaving the back of the plane with Prentiss close behind you. You bent your head back before the raven haired woman’s hand pushed it forward. “Don’t do that, the blood might go down your throat.” 

You followed her instructions and raised any eyebrow, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My niece used to have a lot of nose bleeds whenever she had a cold.” She promptly explained as she bent to pull out tissues from the white bathroom cabinets. 

Around 5 minutes later, you and Prentiss returned to your respective seats, no one but you noticing a strong stare following you. “Are you okay, L/n?” Spencer asks, squinting in curiosity. “Yeah, sorry, sensitive nose, that’s all,” you lied.

These weren’t the first times you’ve had nose bleeds at work or around the team. There was one on your third day of work, the second time you went to a bar with Garcia, and one time on the plane around 4 months ago. You had been lucky that all your other nosebleeds happened either on the way to work or in the comfort of your own apartment. These days, when each case was followed by a heavier one, and each road trip was followed by a 10 hour flight, you were starting to get exhausted. You’re body has decided nose bleeds was the indication for you to take a fucking break.

The next week, you had almost forgotten about your unfortunate trait until a certain tall man called you into his office. “I need those finger print files done by tonight, is that alright?” He asked, smooth voice cutting through your fatigue, leaning on the front of his desk only a metre away from you.

You glanced at him up and down. He was clad in a smoke grey suit, perfectly fitted to his muscles and wide shoulders, tie loose enough to show the amount of work he had been through that morning. He smelt amazing, like wood and petichor, like metal and… “Yeah of course, sorry. I put the victims confirmed profiles on Spencer’s desk to check over before I could finalise the um…” Shit. Why did this have to happen right now?

But before you could even excuse yourself or hold a hand to your nose, a soft hand was cupped under your chin, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch droplets. Heat was radiating from the near contact, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the eye contact you were putting yourself through, or the blood that was currently pooling down your chin and into his palm. Aaron had appeared so swiftly, you wondered how he knew. “We should really get you checked out.” He said, recalling back to your third day on the job. 

“You can check- You’re right I should get… your hand is getting blood on it.” He broke your eye contact and glanced down at his palm, before taking a breath and nodding. “Right, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His other, clean, hand is hovering over your lower back, and everyone’s eyes are hovering over the two of you, following you into the closest bathroom available. You can feel your cheeks heat up. As you pass the kitchenette, he picks up the box of tissues and you try to grab some from his hand, but instead of allowing you, he takes your wrists and holds one to your nose himself. His grip is soft, but restricting, warm. And you can’t help but look at him as he searches for an empty bathroom.

In the bathroom, he guides you to lean over the sink, washing his hands in a sink beside yours while watching you carefully. You look at him through the mirror, and you’re so distracted you almost don’t hear him tell you, “Lean forward more, don’t pinch your nose too hard.” 

You comply and he crosses his arms and leans adjacent to you. “Do you know what’s causing all these nose bleeds?” 

You thought back to shorter than 5 minutes ago and bit your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “Um, I think it was your cologne.” You glance over to him finding he was already looking into your eyes. You were embarrassed, he was your boss and you were basically insulting him. “You smell great, don’t get me wrong. My nose and I obviously have different… opinions.” 

Aaron nods with a small smirk, compelling you to look away before you say anything more. 

Thankfully, saving you from any more embarrassment, your nose stopped painting the porcelain sink reddish-orange. “Thank you for helping me, Hotch.”

Aaron returned to his computer and opened a tab, searching ‘Common causes for frequent nose bleeds’, and, ‘Ways to avoid nose bleeds’.

And the next morning, Aaron walked into the office to get his coffee (the machine had been promptly fixed after your nose bleed situation) before Morgan spoke up, “New cologne, Hotch?” 

Hotch nodded, and turned back to his coffee, pocketing some chamomile satchels to dispose of later. The comment reassured Aaron.

He wanted to be someone you could be around without risking anymore red tissues. 

Aaron placed himself next to you on the plane, the team had gone over the case six times already, and the plane flight was long. It’s always been long. You opened your mouth to greet him before he cut you off, “We can provide a doctor for you, if these nose bleeds keep happening.” 

You blink in surprise, “I’m sorry they’re inconvenient but there’s not much I can do about it.” You bit the inside of your lip, unaware that your bleeds had caused anything negative other than a decrease in tissue supplies and unwanted attention (not including Aaron’s).

“I’m not saying it’s an inconvenience to me,” he shakes his head, “They’re an inconvenience to you. I’m worried it’s because you’re overworked.” 

Oh. 

You cleared your throat and avoided eye contact.

He continues, “You get to work the earliest, stay the latest, you’re always the one travelling the furthest when we have to split up.”

A smirk appears on your face as you finally look back up at the stoic man, “Sounds like someone I know.” 

“I make time, Y/n.” 

You wrung your hands in your lap and sighed, “I’ve had this problem since I was a kid, Hotch. My longest record between nose bleeds was three months, that's only because I finally found some medication.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “They had terrible side effects, it wasn’t worth saving some tissues. I can deal, is what I’m saying.” 

He nods and looks away in thought, that's when you allow yourself to look over his chest and arms, his posture and his… smell?

“You smell different.” “I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.” 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner since what he said on that plane a little over five days ago. He changed his cologne, he offered to find a doctor, he listened to your reasoning. You thought he was being friendly. You wanted him to be a little bit more than that.

The plush seats and convenient seating arrangement that put you next to Aaron didn’t offer any comfort against the dry and hot weather of Nevada. If a place was your enemy, this was it. You had already concealed a small bleed in the drive over, Spencer not giving you a second look when you pretended to sneeze into a tissue. With the increased frequency, she didn’t want any useless worry. You weren’t going to take a break, so you needed to hide any signs of exhaustion as best you could. Even when the sheriff opened every window in the temporary office, JJ continued waving herself with a file, Morgan had already chugged three plastic bottles of water. Even Hotch only had a dark blue dress shirt on and damn did he look hotter than the sun. 

But even with your best techniques and play-pretends (never looking down for too long, staying hydrated, avoiding the hotter places in the precinct), an unfortunate pang hit the front of your head and travelled to your nose. Your eyes shuddered, and you started to look for a tissue, before one appeared at the bottom of your chin before blood even trickled down your top lip. 

It was Aaron holding it there, eyes on the case. 

You looked at him in surprise and awe, before you took the tissue off him and excused yourself, getting a worried look from the old sheriff. 

The tall man had learnt when you were about to get a nosebleed, a sudden stop in motion, scrunched eyebrows and eyes, stopped breathing. And as you left his line of vision, he tried not to worry about the amount of blood you would lose in this weather, and it motivated to close this case even more. 

Everyone around the table glanced at Hotch and then at each other, putting on blank faces when Hotch looked up. 

It wasn’t much better in the hotel rooms you had been given. They had aircon, and free water, but small windows, and broken fridges.

It was a relief to be able to sit on something that wasn’t covered in someone else’s sweat, even if it would be covered soon by your own. You had the coldest shower you think you’ve ever had, put on a larger t-shirt and a small pair of basketball shorts to fight against the heat during the night.

It came a surprise to you when you were blood free the entire afternoon and you counted it as good luck for the flight home, forgetting to place tissues or water on your bedside table. After denying an invitation to poker, you threw yourself onto the bed with crisp white sheets and soft pillow cases, in the direct shot of the air conditioning and only window in the room, and passed out.

There was a frantic knocking on your door, or maybe a pounding in your head. You couldn’t tell, and when you tried to investigate, you felt like your eyelids were sewn shut.

You were able to peak them open and lift yourself weakly, when suddenly a figure appeared in front of you with long blonde hair and soft hands on your shoulders.

“JJ?” Your lips felt tight.

“Jeez, Y/n. How long have you been sick?” Her voice was muffled, but as your vision became clearer so did your hearing. Hotch stopped in your open doorway, already dressed and bags dropped in the hallway, before walking in.

For a second you were going to try and stand to clean your room, realising how late it was. But as soon as you tried to stand, everything went hazy, and you could taste metal on your tongue.

“Y/n, we need to get you cleaned up.” JJ said sweetly, as if you were a child. She took your heavy arms and pulled them to the bathroom, light making your headache into a migraine.

You lifted a hand to the bone between your eyebrows, and when you took it off, it had dried blood on it. As JJ grabbed your body towel from last night and wet a corner of it, you stole a sight of your face. Your mouth and nose was covered in dry blood, some of it had travelled to your left cheek, and between your eyebrows. There was fresher blood on your chin and some even on your next.

You had a delirious thought that you had been stabbed, or you had stabbed someone, but when you looked out into the bedroom and saw Aaron taking the pillow case off of the pillow you were using, you wondered if you caused it to go from white to red overnight.

“What happened?” JJ asked, carefully placing her fingertips on the bottom of your jaw while her other hand dabbed softly at your face. You couldn’t answer, even though you had a fairly good guess. Aaron appeared in the mirror to hand JJ some pain killers, for you.

Swallowing was painful, but as your blonde friend wiped off the last bit of blood from your top lip, you looked worse than your throat felt.

“I’m sorry JJ, I could’ve cleaned myself up.”

“Don’t apologise Y/n. You worried me. You weren’t responding to your texts, not even Hotch’s,” she put the towel down and looked into your eyes with a motherly concern. “I think you need to listen to Hotch when he offers you a doctor again.”

And you nod, because she was right.

JJ left the room with a hug, leaving you with a very cross Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m-“

“You could’ve choked, or suffocated, or passed out- Actually I think you did.” He motioned towards your alarm clock that had been running since 5 a.m. “Y/n…” He looked confused, worried, sad? Your eyes hadn’t 100% cleared yet, a headache slowly throbbing, knees still slightly buckling. You wanted to lay down and be thrown into an ice bath.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” You croaked out.

“You’ve got one window open, cold and dry aircon on, and no water bottle on your bedside table. You should’ve asked to sleep in the same room as someone, in the same room as me.”

You looked down to your feet, only noticing now that Aaron had packed all of your things for you.

“I thought you had been…” He raked a hand through his hair and paced before placing his hands on your upper arms, “I’m going to get you to a doctor, and you can’t say no. That’s an order.”

His grip tighten only slightly, before he turned around and left with your luggage, heart beating fast in his chest.

You were back home, thank god. The air was cooler and clearer, and you didn’t feel like you needed to moisturise every two minutes. You stretched your arms above your head, squishing your eyes closed for some relief to the sting from the computer screen. Your chest expanded deeply, and your nose finally cleared. 

And when you opened your eyes, you glanced over to your boss’ office windows to see if he was still working. But he was already out of his door, looking at you. 

Butterflies played tag with each other in your stomach, a blush crossing your face and you both shot your gazes away. 

His shoes were nearly silent against the floor, but when you quickly stood to pack your shoulder bag and take the sweater off the back of your chair, Aaron was there to greet you when you turned around.

“Let me walk you out?” He asked, as if the last words he said to you weren’t full of unprofessional emotions.

You were silent for at least 3 seconds, Aaron getting worried for a second before you stumbled over your words, “Y-Yes plea- Yeah. Sure.” 

He smiled, a genuine smile. 

Side by side, his briefcase touching your shoulder bag, you made your way towards the elevator. Aaron fiddled with his fingers and felt unfamiliarly nervous, heart thumping a little harder than when he walked out of his office. 

“Thank you for everything. Caring, catching my blood. I would ask how you knew, but you are a profiler after all.” You smile softly, and he nods. “I’m glad you noticed.” He presses on the car park level in the elevator, hands coming to discreetly fidget once again. 

And you can’t take the silence, “You still smell good.” 

“You always do.” Aaron looks as surprised that he said that as you do, looking away quickly before looking up and sighing, “Tomorrow is Saturday.” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any plans?” 

“I have a movie I want to watch, maybe a recipe I wanna try,” you reply oblivious, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature when you both exit the elevator. Suddenly a thicker layer of fabric was draped over your shoulders, one that smelt like new cologne. You blushed, looking up at him. 

The cold breeze was pushing his hair out of place slightly, making his nose a little redder, his eyes clearer. He looked like the word handsome humanised. 

“I think that you should watch that movie and try that recipe at… my place.” 

You widened your eyes chasing any regret or embarrassment in his eyes, but all you got was nervousness, something you had rarely seen in him before. 

He is so handsome, I can’t believe this is happening, I have to tell Garcia- Can I tell Garcia? He’s my boss after all- I mean this doesn’t mean it had to be a date or anything- 

Some blood dripped onto the jacket draped over his shoulders. 

“You could’ve just said no.” He joked as you pinched your nose, smiling against the small headache. It must’ve been the last bit of blood from that morning. “No, I wanna go, I do- Just, could you get a tissue from my glovebox? I don’t want to get anymore blood on your coat.” You reply, nasally and carefully. 

“We’re definitely getting you to a doctor.” 

“Sounds like a fun first date.” 

[hsllfirescoopsreblogs]

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*

「 ✦ aaron hotchner ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all aaron hotchner stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

┌──────────────────┐

MASTERLIST ✈️ CRIMINAL MINDS ✈️ 4/25/24

✐ @luveline

✎ sick of maybe

✑You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

✎ a solitary mistake

✑ You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 

✎ spontaneous phenomena

✑ Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

✎ love, an abstract concept

✑ You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

✎ if things go bad

✑ when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time.

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ doctor!reader

✎ pregnant!reader

✐ @dudeitiskarev

✎ my one and only

✑ It’s Derek and Savannah’s wedding, and to Hotch, you’re the prettiest person in the room.

✎ i want to hold your hand

✑ Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

✎ jealously

✐ @kimstills

✎ some reassurance

✑ in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

✐ @ssahotchnerr

✎ something good

✎ rom coms

✎ according to plan

✎ makeshift

✎ something exhilarating

✎ like dad does

✎ public displays of affection

✎ stay with me

✎ not so friendly competition

✐ @greg-montgomery

✎ request

✐ @headkiss

✎ something more

✑ you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

✎ steady hand

✑ hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

✐ @honeypiehotchner

✎ gold star

✑ You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.

✐ @chvoswxtch

✎ baby

✐ @hotchfiles

✎ half asleep takin’ chances

✑ there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.

✎ no rainfall, no sunshine

✑ if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.

✐ @hotchscvm

✎ three cents

✑ you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

✐ @erwinsvow

✎ coffee, black, two sugars

✑ aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

✐ @atlabeth

✎ too sweet

✑ a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

✐ @ptersparkers

✎ reckless

✑ After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

✐ @spacecowboyhotch

✎ in the east and west

✑ hotch and reader realize some things.

✐ @velvetcloxds

✎ bias

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

[secretlovezz]

Thinking about laying in bed with them for the first time.

---------♡

You're facing each other, just letting your gaze wander along them -mostly along their face- and admiring them. Your hands are clasped together under your head and your legs are bent just enough for your knees to brush against their pants.

You don't realize it but you're smiling, a bright smile that emphasizes the crinkle at the corner of your eyes and the crease of your smile lines. Your eyes shine too filled with love for the breath-taking person in front of you.

What beautiful eyes.

"What?" They chuckled, the angelic sound was almost shy.

Your making eye contact now and your brows furrow in confusion. "Huh?" You sighed dreamily.

They chuckled again this time it was a cheeky one. They had a little smirk on their face, eyes crinkled and squinted with love just as yours were.

Their fingers brush the hair from your face and you sigh in contentment as you feel their fingertips drag along your face, thumb brushing back and forth against the skin it stops on, "you said I had beautiful eyes... do you really think so?" The question left their lips in a whisper.

You smile again.

Your hand moves to mirror theirs and you place it against the skin of their cheek.

"Yeah, the most beautiful."

Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Bucky Barnes

[golden1u5t]

hi guys, so this is the owner of @golden1u5t or what used to be. uhm, i’m really almost in tears over this but i accidentally deleted that account because i had made a second blog and honestly i forgot what i was even going to use it for but i had decided i didn’t want to use it anymore and so i deleted it.

when i deleted that second blog i was unaware that it would also delete my main blog. tumblr has really pissed me off because it gave no warning whatsoever while i was going through the process to delete that second blog that it would delete my main blog. you have no idea how upset i am over this. like even though i stopped posting as much as i would have liked, i would like to think that i did work out on my work to make it so that you all would read it and it would be enjoyable for you all.

i really hate that it only took a few clicks of buttons for all my hard work to be gone. just like that. i’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to get my blog back to what it was before but i promise i’ll try my hardest.

so whenever you see this, if you read my work or followed me, i’d love it if you just popped in for a quick moment to let me know you saw this and know what’s going on. i think it’d make me feel a little less crappy too.

[storiesofsvu]

Welcome Home

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, minor daddy kink, lots of praise.

Coming home from work had always been a form of relief for Aaron, knowing that his day was done, and he was able to relax at least a little bit before doing it all again tomorrow. But this Friday was different, this Friday not only was it a guarantee that he had two days off, he also wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment. Moving in together had been a very easy decision, he no longer had to worry about making a stop at his place before yours, didn’t have to triple check his go bag was always packed and he got to come home to you already in your shared space, happy as can be.

Almost every night this week he had come home to find you in the midst of an IKEA challenge or putting up some nice decorations. Which is exactly where he found you tonight, standing on a chair on your tip toes pinning up fairy lights over the patio window with your favourite playlist flowing through the room. As he put his things down, stepping out of his shoes and hanging up his blazer a smirk took over his lips at the actual sight in front of him. You’d clearly showered recently and chosen to tug on one of his oversized tee shirts instead of actually getting dressed and it appeared the shirt was all you’d bothered with. Your arms outstretched over your head caused the fabric to rise up, the curve of your ass poking out from beneath it as you secured another pin.

Aaron undid his tie, tossing it to the island as he started to undo his shirt, rolling up the sleeves while he crossed the room. Reaching out his hands slid over the curve of your ass before settling on your hips and he chuckled at the way you jumped, turning around when you felt him press a kiss to the small of your back. You were perched on the highest tips of your toes attempting to continue the chain of lights without toppling off the chair.

“You want some help with that?” He smiled softly and you let out a huff of a laugh.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Looks like you were pretty focused.” He nodded toward the lights, and you laughed again.

“I guess. And yeah, I can’t seem to reach it.”

With one clean swoop Aaron picked you up from the chair, resulting in a squeal escaping your lips before he set you on the ground and placed a kiss to the top of your head. You watched with a smile as he effortlessly stepped up onto the chair and was able to reach the spots you never would have been able to.

“That even?”

“Looks perfect.” You smiled as he stepped down from the chair, your hands coming to cup his cheeks so you could press a kiss to his lips, “thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, taking the chain of lights back from him, “it was just the part above the window I was struggling with. Go grab a drink, relax.” You squeezed as his hand, shifting the chair to the left before you climbed back up on it and he was left to wander down the hallway.

Doing as you suggested he got comfortable, changing into a tee and sweats, tossing his work clothes into the hamper and padding back down to the kitchen barefoot to find you humming along to the music as you continued your task. He found a pack of his favourite beer in the fridge, cracking one for himself and grabbing one for you, placing it on the bookshelf you were beside before he dropped into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

The two of you caught up briefly, talked each other through your day while he scrolled through his phone, though his attention mainly remained on you. Since plugging in the string of lights the room and thus you, were bathed in a nearly angelic glow as you continued to work. Every time you moved the shirt simply dared to show more skin and he knew you could feel his eyes on you by the way you kept shifting, the little glances you’d toss over your shoulder to him with an almost shy grin, your cheeks heating. At one point you bent over to grab another hook from the bookshelf and he felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of your pussy fully exposed to him.

“Careful…” He warned, a playful tone in his voice and you glanced over your shoulder with a quizzical look on your face.

“I know how to use a hammer.” You replied with a laugh, gesturing to all your previous work and he chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before he stood up to cross the room.

“I know…” he murmured, his hands ghosting up your thighs and your breath caught in your throat. One of his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him while the other travelled up your back, tangling in the roots of your hair, “but I do hope if someone else was to be helping you with this you would at least put some panties on.”

“Aaron…” you giggled, swatting at the hand on your hip. “I had actual clothes on when the guy came to install the dryer.”

“Oh so it’s just me you like to tease?” He smirked, his hand leaving your hair so both of them could trace patterns on the back of your thighs.

“Obviously.” You let out a sigh, your eyes beginning to flutter at the way he massaged your skin, hands creeping up higher under the hem of the shirt, just daring to brush your pussy.

“I think the rest of this can wait.” A steady arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the chair once again and he yanked you flush to him, the bulge in his pants apparent against your ass, “now you know just how wild you drive me.”

“Mmhmm….” You nodded, your body relaxing against him, your lips falling open as he started to grope your chest through the thin fabric, pinching your nipples until they were hardened and you were grinding back into him.

“Open your mouth.” His hand softly squeezed around your throat before gliding up and two of his fingers sunk in between your lips.

You sucked the digits deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling around them, coating them with saliva as he slowly thrust them in and out of your lips. With his other hand steady on your hip he backed the two of you up to the center of the living room where the nest of pillows and blankets was still tousled on the ground from your movie night the previous evening.

Aaron’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you let out a whine in protest, one that he chuckled at as he pulled his shirt off over his head. His hands found the hem of your stolen shirt, tugging it up and off, dropping it to the floor.

“Relax honey.” His dry hand caressed at your cheek, “there’s no chance I’m done with you yet.” He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue surging into your mouth and you let out a soft moan into the kiss.

The fingers coated in your spit snuck between your bodies, lazily rubbing at your clit while the other one started to toy with your chest. Cupping the flesh, pulling louder moans from you when he started to pinch at your nipples, flicking at them as they hardened in the cool air. His arm wound around you, hoisting you up just enough that your weight was on him as he squatted and gently dropped onto the pile of blankets and cushions before he lay you down on them. His lips broke free from yours and he left a pathway of kisses down your neck, nipping ever so lightly, pulling a breathy sigh from you.

“Aaron…” you whined, “don’t tease.”

“Never would sweetheart.”

His hands smoothed up your thighs, spreading your legs for him before his fingers found your pussy again. They slid through your folds, coaxing out your wetness, smearing it around your pussy, circling around your clit until your chest was heaving and you were nearly panting. His thumbs slid up your pussy, spreading your lips apart and he could see it fully glistening in the low light.

“Such a gorgeous pussy honey.” He cooed, “and who does this pussy belong to?”

“You daddy.”

“Smart girl too.” He smiled softly down at you watching the way your eyes fell shut when he slid two of his fingers into your cunt. “So wet already… have you been thinking about this all day?” He asked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, “waiting for me to come home and find you indecent? Just so I’d fuck you?”

“Yes…” you breathed back, your hand reaching out in search of his free one, fingers interlacing when you found it, his thumb softly stroking over your knuckles. “Wanted to be all ready for you, surprise you.” You were already finding it hard to focus on your words, your pussy fluttering around his fingers as they stretched you out.

“You’re so good for me sweetheart. So thoughtful.” His fingers curled inside you and your breath hitched in your throat, “making sure I have something so gorgeous to come home to… something so sweet.”

With that he shifted onto his stomach, his tongue lapping up the juices around your opening while his fingers continued to twist and scissor inside you. He couldn’t help but groan over your taste, cock twitching in his pants as he shifted up and his mouth latched around your clit.

“Fuck!” You gasped, your hands threading into his hair, holding his face between your legs and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips as electricity sparked through you.

Aaron’s tongue varied between tracing patterns on your pulsing nub and flicking it with the tip, your fingers scraping at his scalp as the pleasure built higher and higher. He picked up the pressure right as his hand picked up the pace, fucking faster into you.

“Oh Aaron…”

Not wanting to let up he merely grunted against you before humming and the vibrations had you gasping, your pussy pulsating around his fingers.

“M’gonna—” You whimpered, feeling the heat about to burst through your veins and his head nodded, rubbing right where you needed it as his fingers curled up, pressing hard on your g-spot and you cried out, “fuck!” Your hips jolted up off the blankets, thighs shaking around him as he gently fingered you through your orgasm.

“That’s it honey…” he cooed, “so fucking pretty for me. Such pretty fucking sounds.”

Your body still trembled, little whimpers and gasps leaving your lips that were heaven to his ears as the aftershocks crashed through you. You were always so gorgeous when you came for him, splayed out on display, legs spread, pussy dripping all because of him, tits swaying as your chest heaved, body coated in a shimmering of sweat, that blissed out look of pure pleasure and desire in your darkened eyes.

He slipped his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips and he caught the way you tugged your lower lip into your mouth, a greedy look in your eyes as you watched him suck them clean. He nearly made a show of it, groaning before letting them pop from his mouth.

“So fucking sweet.” He praised, “almost wonder what I should do with you next.” He smirked at the way you instantly pouted, letting out a soft whine, “what sweetheart?”

“Need you.”

“Yeah…” his hand came back between your legs, palming at your puffy cunt, “need what? My fingers again?” One slipped in, but only for one thrust, “my mouth? Or something else?”

“Your cock daddy, please!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Aaron grinned down at you as he shucked his sweatpants off, positioning himself between your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, thumb smearing the pre-cum around it as he let out a soft groan, “fuck… you always get me so hard.” He thrust his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices, “you feel that honey?”

“Yes…” you whined, your hips rocking towards the touch, “please…”

“Please what?” He raised a brow in your direction as he continued his movement and you whimpered.

“Please fuck me!”

“Good girl.” He leant over you, pressing a kiss to your needy lips as he lined up his hips and his cock sunk into your warmth. You both let out satisfied moans at the sensation, his cock slipping all the way into you until his hips were seated against yours and he could feel your cunt clenching around him already. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Move.. please.” You whined, your arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back as you pulled him to him.

Aaron kissed the side of your neck gently before pulling back until only the tip was left and he plunged back into you, earning a gasp from you at just how deep he was. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into you and he made a home in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he started to pant. He set a steady pace, just fast enough to have you shivering and whimpering in his arms but still slow enough to savour it, to make sure you were feeling every inch and every drag of his cock deep in your pussy, to get it wetter with each thrust of his hips.

From the angle he was fucking you, each movement of his body brushed against your clit, the double sensation having you seeing stars already, pleasure tingling under your skin. One of your hands threaded through his hair again, holding him impossibly close as he continued to thrust into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the movement getting larger anytime you let out a particularly loud whine. He loved the way you clenched around him, the sounds you made, knowing he was the one who was making you make them, that he was the only one who could pull sounds like them from you. Each thrust of his hips he could feel the wetness where your bodies met getting larger, the slick around his cock growing, the sounds getting more indecent with every pump.

“Oh god Aaron!” Your nails started to claw at his back, “s-so gg-ood.”

“Always take me so well.” He grunted back, his hips beginning to snap harder and faster into yours, earning a breathy gasp from you as you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist.

Your pussy was dripping, the squelching noises coming from it echoing through the living room and every time Aaron drove his cock deeper into it you felt new sensations, your entire body tingling, starting to shake with pleasure. The coil was building deep inside you, higher and hotter with each thrust and your eyes scrunched shut, a string of whimpering swears leaving your lips. Aaron groaned loudly into your ear at the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him before his mouth latched onto your neck, teeth sinking in before his tongue lapped over the spot to soothe the burn and his lips began to suck at your sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the trembling in your body blew into a full blown spasm and you hit your peak, pussy clenching down even harder around Aaron as he grunted, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing your neck before sitting up on his haunches to chase his own release. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and faster into you and with just how fucking drenched your cunt was it wasn’t long before he was groaning loudly, his cum spilling into your pussy and he dropped over you again. “Fuck…”

Your finger tips gently tickled up and down his back, your other hand coming to his head, scratching at his scalp as he panted above you and you finally managed to catch your breath. You pressed a tender kiss to the side of his head, letting out a very satisfied hum and in return he let out a breathless huff, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. He pulled his head up, his hand coming to caress the side of your cheek as he left a featherlight kiss on your lips and you smiled up at him.

“You okay?” He murmured.

“Perfect.” You replied, stealing another kiss before he gently rolled off you.

Aaron adjusted a few of the cushions and blankets so you would both be comfortable, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you instinctively curled into his side, resting on his chest. His arm wound around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, a small smile on his cheeks as he admired the decorating you’d been doing. The soft light cascading perfectly over the living room for a moment like this.

“You certainly know a thing or two about welcoming a guy home.” He teased and you laughed.

“Figured I could start off strong with what I know you love.” You shifted so you could see his face and he chuckled.

“Well what I love is you, doesn’t matter what form it comes in as long as I get to come home to you every day.”

“You’re a sap, you know that right?”

“Absolutely not.” He grinned back and you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning up to kiss him softly.

“I love you too.”

_______________________

@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @boimlers-gonna-boim @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @acctualdeemon

[em-prentiss]

Ice cold

————

In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.

Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn

Word count: 1.7k

This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3

————

The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.

Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?

“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”

You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you. 

“You okay?” He asks.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.

Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth. 

He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.

“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says. 

You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.

Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.

Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.

Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.

“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”

Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.

You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.

By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt. 

His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.

Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.

He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice. 

“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.

“My lips are cold too.”

Oh god.

You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place. 

You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.

Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out. 

You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.

His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.  

“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.

It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.

Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up. 

You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.

Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state. 

“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.

“Traffic?” You raise your brows. 

He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in. 

Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.

Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?” 

“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.

You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again. 

You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.

[baubarbz]

SHOULDER MASSAGES

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pairing : aaron hotchner x reader

summary : you & aaron are having a moment in his office when Penelope walks in unannounced !

warnings : kissing ?

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You pushed open the door to Aaron's office, the soft creak of the hinges echoing through the room. The dim lighting and quiet atmosphere enveloped you, compared to the loud room you just came from.

Aaron sat at his desk, his dark hair flew in all different directions and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he worked over the latest case files. The faint scent of coffee wandered through the air, mingling with the subtle hint of his cologne.

As you approached, his gaze flickered up, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You smiled, knowing he needed a break from the weight of his responsibilities.

Closing the door behind you your boots clicking softly on the floor a you move to stand behind him.

You reached out, gently grasping his shoulders as your fingers dug into the stiff knots that formed due to his stress.

He tensed for a moment, then relaxed, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his head dropped forward. “hey sweetheart” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

You worked out the kinks, your hands moving in slow circles, feeling the muscles relax beneath your touch. His hair was a mess, and his eyes looked tired. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear, sending a thrill through both of you.

"You need to take care of yourself, Aaron," you whispered. "take a break, clear your mind." He turned his head, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you just looked at each other.

The air was charged with tension, the connection between you palpable. You reached out, tilting his head up, and pressed your lips to his. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine.

Just as you pulled back, the door burst open, and Penelope's excited voice filled the room. "Sorry to bother you sir- Oh my god, oh my god! I knew it! I knew you two were meant to be!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement.

Aaron's face turned bright red as he quickly stood up, trying to compose himself. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. Penelope's enthusiasm was infectious, you couldn’t help but smile.

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dede speaks ! :

I wanted to try writing, let me know what y’all think! opinions are appreciated and valued & please don’t be afraid to correct me on anything !

[luveline]

Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?

pregnant!reader, 1k

Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 

There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 

“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  

When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.

“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 

Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 

“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 

“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 

“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 

“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 

“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 

Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 

Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 

“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 

“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 

You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 

“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 

Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 

You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”

“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 

“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 

“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 

“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 

“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 

“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 

“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 

He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 

“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 

Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 

Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 

“Aaron,” you murmur. 

He nods into Jack’s hair. 

“You are happy, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 

You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 

Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”

“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 

“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 

“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 

“No way!” 

“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 

He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 

Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 

[shewroteaworld]

The Aftermath

Premise: You're nearly killed on the job. Aaron is there to help you through the aftermath.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

TW: descriptions of canon-typical violence, brief mention of ableism, survivor's guilt

Word count: approx. 1,000

The fraying threads of his throw blanket are the only things keeping you from crying. You pick at the red tassels, rolling them between your fingers over and over again. It’s a desperate Hail Mary. You’ve officially come unglued. You’re too shaken to do anything productive, like baking or taking a drive, without snapping into reality and breaking down. But the silence of nothingness is also too painfully loud. So you’re frozen, like an invalid, rhythmically stroking this fucking blanket because if you don’t, you’ll be there. 

You’ll see the gun perfectly pointed at the inches between your eyebrows. You’ll see his smirk, the way he smiled, as his partner tightened the binds around your wrists, the warmth of your own blood dripping down your fingertips as the gun inched closer and closer and closer. You’ll watch as he and his smirk take over your field of vision as the carbon steel of the gun barrel brushes your forehead. He moves into kiss you– the fucking freak– before a shot rings out, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ve heard your own death– as if your spirit you weren’t sure you believed in left your body and you’re observing your last moments in an astral projection. 

But you were listening to his death. The barrel of the gun fell away 100 times faster than it came as the unsub succumbed to the bullet through his temple. You screamed as you thrashed against the wooden pole, like a child screaming for a lifeguard. More shots rang out and you heard from roughly two yards behind you the crack of his accomplice's body smacking against the concrete. 

It was over. 

“Are you okay?” You flinch and whip around to the source of the hand that had the audacity to touch you. It was Aaron. You snap back into the present, and the coil in you relaxes. You force it back into its spiral before you come undone.

You allow yourself a moment to take in his face: the shadow of the deep set of his eyes and his signature tense brow. Your eyes disobediently drift to his torso and your breath hitches. You recall collapsing against it. You recall how the air in you and the room disappeared as you sobbed. You recall how he gently cupped your shoulder blade as you fell to pieces on his shoulder.

You recall how something in you froze when the paramedic touched your shoulder. How the fear choked you. 

You can’t breathe.

Aaron’s suddenly kneeling before you. “Are you okay?”

You scratch your head. Your eyes burn. “I’m…” You rub the tassels between your fingers. “I’m losing it.” You whisper. 

“You’re not losing it.” 

“How would you know?” You ask genuinely.

“I know you.” He says gently. He pauses. “What you’re feeling is normal and right. It would be worrying if you weren’t affected by what happened.”

“Of course I’m affected by what happened.” It spills out of you before you can block it along with a few rogue tears.

He reaches for the coffee table and grabs a tissue. He offers it to you. You smear your cheeks dry.

“We can talk about it." He says. "I’m here to listen or talk with you if it will help.”

You were silent when the medics checked you over. You were silent on the jet ride. Aaron let you exist in your silence even when you both knew you would have to puke up the intimate details for an incidence report for the FBI that would be scrutinized by higher-ups and mental health officials. The most violating moments of your career, from start to finish, would be under the detective lights of anyone with the authority. It would be immortalized in some database. The most terrifying experience of your life couldn’t even just be yours.

You both knew that, even if he couldn’t know how much it terrified you to your bones– how violated you felt– to have your life like that on display to whomever it may concern. But he allowed you to cling to your safety blanket all the same.

But now you were off the jet and not in prying eyes. And though, over the course of your blissful yet short love affair, you knew he would not go away quite as easily. You suspected he wouldn’t pry; it wasn’t in his nature. But he would make it clear how open he was. And knowing you, and feeling the emotions bubbling against the lid of the pot you’d trapped them in, you felt like you had two options. And you didn’t like either.

“I don’t…” You swallow. “I’m upset.”

He gently grabs your hand like he’s cupping a fragile thing. When you don’t jerk, he squeezes it. The knot begins to unfurl and before you can register it, more tears stream down.

“I feel like I should’ve been ready for this, but I’m not.” You admit.

“Being held hostage?” He asks gently.

You sniffle. “It’s my job.”

“It’s not your job. Your job is to solve crimes. That was not another job responsibility. That was a traumatic experience.”

You sob. He cups your wet cheeks. 

“I’m here.” He says. “I’m right here.”

“How can I go back to work after this?”

“You don’t have to bounce back.” He assures.

“I feel…I feel…I can’t put it into words.” You wipe your face in frustration.

“Is trying to explain it helping or hurting?”

You sniffle, mucus uncomfortably coating your throat. “I think it will help if I…stop being so hard on myself.” You confess. “It’s just…I feel so frozen. I still feel frozen.”

“It’s normal to feel that way directly following something like this." He says gently.

You shake your head. “No, I’m not talking about the aftermath. I’m talking about during. When I was tied there.” You swallow thickly. “When he had me.”

“I couldn’t breathe.” You continue, grateful he gave you a moment of silence to pull your thoughts together. “I was…helpless. At their mercy and I…I...”

You squeeze the blanket in a white knuckle grip. “How could they do that to me? How could that happen to me? How can…how can I feel this way?” 

His eyebrow furrows. “What do you mean?” You know he can feel the guilt radiating off of you.

“He killed those other young women. Mutilated them. Violated them. I was the lucky one, wasn’t I?” your voice cracks.

“No. No one is lucky in a situation like this. Your pain is valid and doesn’t take anything away from his other victims.”

“I feel helpless.”

“It’s okay to feel helpless.” 

Something in you jumps at his response. “What do you mean?” You sniffle.

He bites his tongue. You see that furrow in his expression– like he’s weighing his approach. “Your life was in grave danger. The pain won’t go away; your mind and body need time to heal. And I swear I will take care of you as long as you need. You have all the time in the world to recuperate.”

“What about–”

“You don’t need to worry about work right now. All I want you to do is worry about you.”

Your lip can’t help but quirk upwards. “Pot meet kettle.”

He smiles. “Pot meet kettle.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m here for you.”

“I love you too.”

He hugs you, his arms warming you through the cover of the throw blanket. You’re can't comprehend how you will heal from this. But in his arms, you know you won't be walking alone.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Grateful for you <3

[hotchfiles]

coming soon — in nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti.

hotch x consultant!reader. multi chapter. case fic.

in nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti…

“amen.” if you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth.

the black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. it amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.

“catholic, mr. hotchner?” your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “that much, huh?”

“my parents were.” the answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “was an altar boy for years before i left for boarding school.” you nod.

“ah. i’ve met some of you in my research.” some of you. church babies, altar boys. spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated.

“and you? catholic?”

“oh no. never been.” you don’t explain much, aware emily probably told him of your time in rome, where the two of you met. “your unsub is though. either devoted to saint michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” you note, being reminded of the pictures emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words hebrews 9:22 written in blood.

hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, silver spring’s st. michael the archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place.

[callmekanytime]

Why aren’t the links for the masterlist and stories working?!?😭😭 I’m going crazy.

[hotchs-big-hands]

With a lil bonus inspo pic hehe

I’m willing to do anything for this man at this point please sir 🥺

[cerisereids]

aaron hotchner would be such a sap when it comes to celebrating your accomplishments. he's just such a proper gentleman in all aspects of his life, and that, of course, extends to your relationship. he's obsessed with spoiling you, cannot for the life of him think of a good reason why you shouldn't be spoiled, so he takes it upon himself to do it for you, especially when you work as hard as you do. whether it's a promotion at work or a graduation of some sort, he has reservations booked at the nicest restaurants, the prettiest outfit laid out for you. it's not to be flashy, you know that. it's because he thinks you deserve the best, only the best. he is an acts of service man, and he loves to spoil.