#Hotch's office is where the naps are

[hotchgirlsummer]

There’s barley people on this app that make good bimbo reader! You are amazing!! Could u do one where she goes to his office for lunch and after they eat she gets sleepy so he lays her on his couch to nap and she’s like “so sleepy”

summary ⤷ There's nothing more one looks forward after lunch than napping with the love of their life.

pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader

warnings ⤷ nothing but fluff! maybe some heart to heart talk?

word count ⤷ 1.6k words

a/n ⤷ no cause you are so sweet 🥺🥺🥺🥺 this took a long while to get done as february was a busy month for me. hopefully you like it!also!! to get back in the habit of writing, drabble requests are open! ☺️

masterlist

"Your food delivery's here!" Y/N giggled cheerfully as she opened Aaron's office door but her cheery expression was halted when she noticed that Dave and Emily were also in the room as they were previously discussing important; she looked at the other two agents and shot them a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry I didn't get you guys anything, can I make it up next time? Did you guys like the chocolate mousse or the cupcakes that I brought last time?"

"i liked both, I do have a craving for your chocolate mousse," Came Emily's immediate and well-thought of reply, which earned her smirking looks from the two men, "What? Y/N's a great baker and I love all of her treats."

"Aw, you're too sweet to me, Em," Cooed the younger woman and hurriedly hugged the noirette tight, "I'll bring some next time I visit here, kay?"

"As much as Emily and I would love to chat more with you, I believe there's a certain commander of ours who'll get grumpy if he doesn't ear his lunch," Rossi remarked as he took note of the rather tight-lipped expression that Hotch was wearing; Emily smirked as well once she broke off the hug and took a good look at their unit chief, "You're right, Rossi. It seems like they might even need to be put down for a nap."

Y/N waited until the two were out of the room before placing the lunch bag on his desk, making way to where Aaron was and sat comfortably on his lap, lacing her arms around his neck as she wondered, "Did you guys get a new team member?"

"What makes you say that, sweetheart?" Aaron questioned back as he busied himself with stroking her cheek as he kissed her nose before landing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"Dave was talking about a commander, do you have an army teammate?" Her cute head tilt made it hard for the unit chief to explain what Rossi really meant. Instead, he went along with her understanding by agreeing, "No, sweetheart. But wanna know a secret?"

Her cute gasp as she nodded excitedly, prompted him to reveal, "Sometime I don't really understand what Dave says. We all just go with what he says and make him think he's making sense."

Smacking his shoulder slightly, she reprimanded him, "That's mean, Aar. You be nice to Dave! Or else he won't make me anymore of his delicious lasagna." Leaning forward to press a kiss on her glossed up pout and chuckles at her, "Well don't worry, I will cook all the meals you will ever crave for."

"You are a great cook," She pondered for a bit before her eyes drifted over to the lunch bag she had carried with her, perking up in excitement as she remembers, "Oh! I brought you lunch! I made a it all healthy like you want, with produce, filer, and gains!"

As she was opening the covers of the tupperware, Hotch nodded to himself as he understood better what she was trying to convey, "Protein, fibre, and grains," He listed as he saw the chicken, eggs, banana, grapes, and some nuts. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, sweetheart," He said, with a voice full of love as he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Shaking her head as if what he said was absurd and lifting the forkful of food by his mouth, cupping her free hand underneath the fork in case some food fell off, "But I really wanted to see you, and I knew you didn't pack any lunch with you. Plus, you always cook for me and I wanted to return the favor, you know?"

Taking the bite she had prepared for him, he hummed appreciatingly as he smiled up at her, "I'll forever be grateful for this, sweetheart. It's been a while since I had a pretty girl bring and feed me lunch."

Giggling as she scooped some of the eggs and brought it to her mouth, "Just say the word and I can make this an everyday arrangement! Oh, would you need a personal assistant, Aar?"

"And no, I don't think I need one. Besides, I'd love it more if you busied yourself with your designs, sweet."

"Oh! Speaking of my designs, I worked on more today! I came up with this dress that comes down mid thigh and it has this Venus cut on the shoulders. Though for a while I struggled because I wasn't sure if I wanted the design to be simple sparkles to look like stars or have like embroidered flowers on it," It was apparent on her satisfied smile as she fed him more chicken that she was immensely proud of the result, "Can't wait to show you what it looks like once I've made it!"

"I can't wait to see it either. Maybe you can give me a fashion show hm?" Rubbing her back to settle her pent up excitement.

"Well maybe not right away, I have these shoes in mind that I wanna buy that will tie up the whole look."

As he was fed another bite, Aaron felt around for his wallet before speaking, "Why don't you take my card when you buy it?" Scoffing in mock offense, she shook her head and feed him another spoonful as if to silence him from making more silly suggestions, "Well excuse me for wanting to use my hard-earned money. You can't be the only one who will do all the spoiling of me. Or for me," She pouts as she looked up at him, "You do know what I mean, right?"

"I always do, sweetheart," He reassures which brings out a bright, toothy smile from her.

From there on out, Hotch filled her up on what the latest happenings within the team are — he of course left out the gruesome details of the cases are, but instead what the latest life updates of team members. And in return, she shared memorable interactions with her customers.

While he was recalling how Spencer pulled a prank on Derek with the help of Blake, Hotch's keen eye noticed that Y/N was scooping eggs but instead of feeding it to him, she fed it to herself.

"Hey! I thought those eggs were for me?" He jokingly scolded her when the bite of eggs went to her; as if to make up for it she gave him a big serving of the eggs before answering his question, "Well it's because I had such a busy day, Aar! I cleaned the apartment, cooked food, and I worked on some more designs!" She laid her head on his shoulder as she passed the fork to him — which allowed the unit chief to this time feed for himself as he noticed that the exhaustion of her day's activities was catching up on Y/N. "So ready for a nap, Aar."

"Yeah? Your tummy's all full so you're ready for a nap now?" While his voice was teasing her , Y/N did not register it as such and instead took it as concern for her well-being. Snuggling further into his neck while her hand busied itself by rubbing his chest lovingly, spreading warmth on his entire being.

"Can I go lay on your chest? Wanna stay with you while I nap," She was a hundred percent sure that he would give in but Hotch knew that if she did let him lay on him like this that one, work that needed to be done that day would not get accomplished which means more time not spent with Y/N and Jack. And second, it would be likely that a team member will barge in and poke at him for letting his guard down.

Against his will, he shook his head as he lifted her body in his strong arms — he smiled to himself upon feeling her snuggle close — and laid her on his office couch, he draped her with the soft, faux fur blanket her purchased after her first visit into his office and she made some comment about what will keep him warm while he works and she was not there to snuggle him.

"I won't take more than two hours and then we're out of here, okay?"

"Mmkay, I'm just gonna nap here, Aarbear. Wake me up when it's time for us to go, okay?" She immediately nuzzled herself into the blanket, leaning against his soft lips when he pecked her cheek softly.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," He muttered softly before promptly returning back to his desk; now motivated more than ever to brisk through this mountain of paperwork if he had any desire of spending his time with her and Jack for the evening like they had originally planned.

It wasn't until twenty minutes in when he had the expected visitor that took place in the form of Derek Morgan. Polite knocks followed by him entering the office, the Chicago native smirked as he spotted the sleeping form of his boss' girlfriend. "I see you got yourself a sleeping beauty," He remarked as he placed the files on the desk.

"Don't worry, I'll wake her up with a kiss before we leave," Hotch joked as he thanked him for the files he got accomplished. Taken aback with how he cracked a joke on his own, Derek replicated his chuckle and said, "Honestly though, Hotch, she's really good for you."

Putting the pen down as he took in his words and stared lovingly at her, "Not only that, but I she is the one for me, Morgan."

[ssahopelessly]

Or Something

Synopsis: Spencer Reid doesn’t call out. Ever. A personal day is a foreign concept to him. So how does reader react when he takes a sick day?

A/N: I had intended this to be a blurb but it somehow turned into a oneshot. Inspired by the exchange:

“Kendall’s not here because she’s got the flu or something?”

“I actually didn’t have the flu.”

Warnings: BAU work environment (minus the casework), absense from work, illness, existing close to a sick person, cough

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

The sixth floor was too quiet this afternoon. Aaron Hotchner was in his office, brow furrowed in the way they always did as he looked over paperwork, pile after pile covering his desk. Derek and Emily were sitting across from each other in the bullpen, tossing a paper ball back and forth. Penelope and JJ had been in the roundtable room, preparing something that would soon reveal itself. And Rossi had walked into the break room for another coffee refill. Everyone was here… except, “Where’s Spencer?” I finally voiced, turning to look over at the two still with me among all the desks.

“Oh! He called in sick.” Emily held the paper ball in her hand for just a moment before tossing it back to Derek.

“Sick?” I had to ask aloud to process the fact. That slightly explained his absence, but it still felt like a foreign idea.

“Yes?”

“Spencer Reid does not call in sick.” I mumbled aloud, but mostly to myself, as I gathered my bag and important belongings from my desk surface.

“Where are you going?” I think Derek had asked me. It could’ve been Emily. But it almost didn’t matter. Making my way over to Hotch’s office, I gave him a simple answer for my sudden departure before walking towards the elevator. Spencer Reid doesn’t call out, and Spencer Reid doesn’t really ever get sick.

-

Spencer hadn’t answered the phone, after I had called about three times. In normal Spencer behaviour, he would maybe answer by the second call, if anything the third. But before I could make a fourth call, I decided it was easier to just show up at his apartment. Knocking on apartment 23’s door, it would’ve been mindful to keep it soft. Because what if he actually was sick? What if he was napping? But there was an instinct in me now that needed to hear from him. There was movement on the other side of the door before the wood left the frame. “What are you-“ he quickly turned his head from me, wrapping his arm over his face, coughing into the oversized sleeve of his cardigan before looking back to me, “what are you doing here?” There was a layer of congestion to his voice, making a reality the phrasing “something sitting on your throat”.

“Oh my god, you are sick.” I wanted to take a step back. If it was a cold, I was not exactly thrilled at the thought of being sick right now. But the need to help him in any capacity was stronger than that fear.

“And you’re going to get it if you don’t leave.” I could feel my lips pressing together at the thought, but one look at him told me more than I knew it could. While the self preservations and paranoia were urgent in not wanting to get sick, I wanted to make sure he was okay. And from the way he looked, he needed someone to look after him and provide that level of care.

“Nope. I’m here to take care of you.” Pushing his door open further, I entered his apartment like it had been any other weekend for the two of us.

“Why?” He groaned from his spot at the door, surely locking it into place.

“Because last time you caught the cold on a case you spent two nights in your hotel room and you were a baby on the jet.” There were a number of tissue boxes around his sofa, on the floor and coffee table. The curtains over the windows hadn’t been drawn back, leaving the room overall dark with a singular lamp illuminating the space. “What was the last thing you ate?”

“Some soup?” Moving past me, he sat on his couch, head immediately falling back to rest against the back of the frame as his eyes closed.

“That’s good!”

“Last night.” His body was wincing as I looked back over to him, eyes squinting as he tried to lean away from me.

“Spencer Walter Reid!” I was starting to feel like my parents, using full government names to chastise. I wasn’t nearly as serious as my parents though, a smile pulling at my lips.

“I was going to make something!” His tone was defensive as he looked over at me, eyes looking to the kitchen and back.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” It was a quiet answer this time, a tone he often never used in the office.

“Go put your ass on the couch, I’ll make you something.” Setting my bag down near his desk, I moved towards his kitchen, immediately trying to figure out where he kept what in the small space of cabinets and drawers.

“You’re exposing yourself the longer you’re here!” He called over from the couch, coughing at the end of his sentence. If he was going to eat anything, he needed to start by drinking something. Thankfully, he had apparently just did a grocery run as his refrigerator wasn’t as empty as it could’ve been. There was a container of orange juice and a clean glass sitting in the dish drainer.

“And I can take care of myself. You-'' Stepping out of his kitchen with the glass of orange juice, I placed it on the coffee table in front of him, “are sick. And I am here for you so-“ he took a few sips of it before laying down on the couch as I returned to the kithcen, trying to think what on earth I could possibly cook for him with whatever he had in his apartment.

-

It was several hours after the fact. Once he had eaten a solid meal, I encouraged him to go get a shower, if anything hoping the steam would help open his respiratory system so he could breathe easier. While he did so, I ran to the store down the street and got him new medication to start taking, hoping it would make his recovery easier and get him back to his normal self faster. There was a documentary playing on the TV now, something he must’ve put on in my absence. Taking a seat on the couch, he soon joined me, resting his head on my shoulder as he got comfortable. “The team called.”

“And?” I asked, my hand moving to comb through the roots of his hair, his head becoming heavier against my body.

“They want to know why you left the office.” His hands were fumbling to grab the blanket that was bundled at his feet, pulling it up along his body to about his chest and waist. There was a slight tremour coming from him now as he snuggled closer to me.

“Theyre profilers. They can figure it out.” Slightly moving my body along the couch, we soon found ourselves in a position where his head was resting against my chest, my arms resting over him, the blanket over both of us. Continuing to comb my fingers throug his hair, I noticed how he soon became slightly heavier and his breathing had picked up a rhythm. Spencer had fallen asleep in my arms, and it was the best feeling in the world.

Tell me what you think here!

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

hiii!! Could i get a simple one shot where its specer reid x daughter(6) who had woken up with the flu in the middle of the night, and reid is just the best dad ever, if you can throw in a bed wetting scene as well, Lots of comfort i love your writting so much🤍

Request: hiii!! Could i get a simple one shot where its specer reid x daughter(6) who had woken up with the flu in the middle of the night, and reid is just the best dad ever, if you can throw in a bed wetting scene as well, Lots of comfort i love your writting so much🤍

This idea is adorable thank you for requesting!

Third person pov...

Spencer Reid was tired, the last case had been a hard one, in Las Vagas an unsub was kidnapping little children aged 4 to 8 and pretending that they were their parents, if the kid misbehaved or did something the unsub didn't want she would kill them.

She got through 8 children both boys and girls before the last victim little 6 year old esme, she had been kidnapped from the park near the unsubs hunting ground.

She was knocked out and kept the longest, a week later she managed to escape from the house, she had told the team she escaped when the unsub was taking a nap and forgot to lock one of the windows, covered in bruises and blood the little girl was saved and the unsub captured.

On the plane ride home Spencer was anxious to see his daughter, little Esme had remind him of his 6 year old safe home Virginia, the doctor was currently on the phone with the babysitter.

He sat drumming his left hand on the table waiting for the call to go through finally when the called connected he felt less anxious. "Hello Mr Reid" she said, Spencer relaxes slightly.

"Y-yes he-hello Mrs thorn, I'm calling to let you know I will be home by 1am, we have just left Las vagas" he explains to the babysitter, Mrs Thorn had been Y/Ns babysitter ever since she was a baby.

Spencer of course has a very demanding job and it always away on case from 2 days to almost 2 weeks, depending on the Unsub, he doesn't get to see existing daughter must when he does he spends every minute with her.

Only being 6 years old the little girl is very smart like her Daddy, she understood why he left her with Mrs Thorn alot, but I didn't mean he didn't love her just that he was busy saving other people from bad guys.

"Ooh that's great news Mr Reid, little Y/N has been missing you, she will be very happy to have you home" Exclaimed Mrs Thorn, Spencer grinned.

"I've missed her too, can you put her on for me ?" He askes hope in his voice, Mrs Thorn laughed slightly. "Of course I can, here she is- N/N its Daddy" Spencer can hear Mrs thorn say.

Then the unmistakable squeal of his daughter. "Daddy!! Daddy it's you" Exclaimed Y/N the little 6 year old had been given the phone to talk to her Dad.

Spencers smile widened at the sound of his daughters voice. "Hi sweetie, it's Daddy, I'm coming home" he says hearing Y/N squeal loudly in excitement at the news.

"Yayy! Daddy's coming home, you hear that Mrs Thorn!- yes I hear N/N- oh Daddy! I got a new book from the library" Little Y/N then spent the next hour telling her Father what she did the time he was away.

Hours later the plane finally lands, Y/N had fallen asleep telling her Dad what, she did almost two hours ago, throughout the time Spencer had noticed the team watching him with smiles on their faces as he talked tk his daughter.

Soon the group of 6 were walking to the bullpen to grab their stuff. "I cannot wait to get home and sleep I'm my bed" groaned Emily, JJ and Morgan agreeing with her.

Spencer grabbed bus go bag and normal bag and was making his way to the exit. "See you guys tomorrow, late start at 9 so relax a little before coming in" called Hotch from his office.

Soon Spencer was home, Mrs Thorn had left an hour ago after Y/N fell asleep, Spencer quickly opened and locked the door behind him as he walks in.

He tiptoes as silently as possible, taking of his shoes abd walking through the apartment, he puts down his bag, he pulls out the book he bought home for Y/N.

He goes to sit on to sofa but is stopped by crying, tensing Spencer looks to his daughters room. "N/N" he runs to her room and slams open the door. "N/N? Are you okay? It's daddy" he says to the dark room, the only light source being the night light.

"Daddy!" Sobs the little H/C haired girl, the 6 year old was currently kneeling on her bed, hair sticking up, rubbing her teary eyes as she cries.

Spencer walks over to her quickly, he shush the crying girl, picking her up and hugging her rocking back and forth trying to comfort. "Shh Shh it'd okay Baby, daddy's here daddy's right here " he whispers calmly in her ear.

After a while she stops, her sobs turning into sniffles, Spencer child feel his shirt soaked with tears but he didn't care, only comforting hid daughter mattered.

"Daddy" cries Y/N, Spencer shushes her again. "It's okay Baby" as he continues rocking thr 6 year old he finally notices the wet patch on her sheets where she was laying.

He then gently pulled the red eyed girl of his shoulder and infront of him, he then looked at the wet patch on her pj's. 'Oh no' he thinks.

"It'd okay N/N, you didn't mean to" he mutters, holding his daughter in one hand he pulled all the sheets of the bed, and started to run a warm bath for Y/N.

Rubbing her back thr Agent sat on the toilet to watch thr bath, bouncing Y/N as he did. "Daddy hurt" whispers Y/N her voice horse from crying.

Spencer then turned her around. "Where does it hurt N/N?" He asks, Y/N then point to her throat and head. Spencer the checks her forehead she does feel a little warm.

"Guess you got the Flu sweetie, don't worry after a nice warm bath I'll give you some medicine okay" he says to her, Y/N jsut nods as he turns the water off and puts her in it.

15 minutes later, Y/N is dressed in clean pj's and back in her Daddy's arms, idly sucking on her thumb as she waits for her Daddy to change her bed sheets and to get her some medicine.

Soon Spencer comes back, he had some kids medicine to her to take and he had changed thr bed sheets into new ones. "Here you go sweetie" he says and gives the medicine for her to take, once she did he picked her back up again rocking back and forth.

"Feeling better baby?" He asks the sleepy 6 year old, it was almost 3am at this point. Y/N doesn't answer only nods her head falling onto her Dad shoulder thumb still in her mouth.

The man sighs quietly. "She's falling asleep again" he whispers to himself, checking the time he goes to his bedroom knowing she won't be letting go of his now, the two get under the covers.

Y/N tucked securely under his arm, Spencer kisses her forehead. "Good night baby" he mutters against her still warm head though not as warm as before. "Night Daddy" comes the sluggish voice of thr 6 year old.

Soen soon finds himself following his daughter into the land of dreams.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, I definitely enjoyed writing this, as usual sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1308

[railingsofsorrow]

support system

summary: in which reader goes through a depressive episode but she doesn't need to suffer alone, or. . . in which I got inspired by that hotch and emily's scene.

pairing: platonic!aaron hotchner x gn!reader; platonic!bau x gn!reader

w.c: 2.1K

warnings/content: tw!depression; descriptions of feeling numb, insomnia, poor eating habits, feeling as if you're suffocating and confusion; basically a depressive episode; minor character death (mentioned).

a/n ²: this is based on my own experience, not everyone feels the same way. if this is triggering for you (read the warnings, please) then don't read it.

navi

masterpost

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Is everything okay?”

You released the grip you had on the file when the voice of your boss brought you back to Earth.

Your head was on haywire. The case wasn't much help, it didn't end well, not like you wanted, at least. Each one of you endured it in a different way but you could see through Emily's eyebrow twitch as she dozed off, in JJ's far away gaze as she stared out the window and in Derek's strained smile as Spencer checkmated him on chess for the tenth time. This job took a tool on all of you but the choice was always clear — you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

And your head played tricks on you in spite of the death you saw every day. You called it grey days; the ones where, as soon as you opened your eyes to start the day, you'd drift to the void of nothingness. The colours were faint, if there were any at all. They just didn't matter to you as you walked by your apartment and everything was tidy up. While your brain mocked you for the numbness as you ate and the cracks caused by dryness in your lips. Nothing out of order, except for the mess inside your head. As long as it stayed there, it was fine.

But apparently, that's not what happened. You've been reading the same paragraph for the thirteenth time and you had misspelled the same word multiple times. You couldn't concentrate on paperwork and that's when you wished to finish things like Spencer did. He did everything perfectly and fast, always the first to be done even after proofreading it. Fucking IQ of 187.

In resume, you were not fine. The case was just an added bonus. And you were too stubborn to admit it to anybody, most definitely not your boss.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, turning the page after blinking to escape the blurriness of your sleepless nights. “Just finishing up some reports.”

He took his seat by your side, two cups being placed in the table in front of you.

“Why don't you finish up tomorrow?” He offers, leaning back as he relaxed his shoulders. He seemed to be winding off for today, his paperwork forgotten at his side. Those were probably finished already, and more awaited him at his office back at Quantico. Hotch worked too much. You wondered if he ever went crazy for a break — you knew he needed it. “Get some rest. Take a nap before we land? There's still some time.”

Your lips curled up in a smile. The first real one of your day. You found yourself unable to react when people explicitly showed they cared about you. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do?

But it made you secretly warm inside. They care. I'm not alone.

Everyone knew you liked to sleep on the jet. As soon as you walked in and took your seat by the window, you were gone done for the day. Derek often made fun of you but you were used to it.

Today, you went straight to the casefiles. Burying yourself in work in order to ignore the intrusive thoughts running through your mind. That's the best outcome you could gather.

Except it wasn't.

“I can't,” you said, writing down the date on a new file. “Too much to do.”

Hotch stayed silent and you took that as the conversation being over. When you were concluding another set of paperwork, he softly nudged one of the cups into your hands. You blinked up in surprise and that must've been the distraction he needed to pull the files out of your hands and push the mug into them.

A look was all it took for you to accept it and sip into the beverage. Tea. It calms you down. Garcia always makes sure to sneak in a packet into your go-bag, knowing you crave those most of the time — and on days like these — the jet had the tea option too, despite the coffee addicts sitting around.

“I want you to make a deal with me.”

You peered at Hotch through your eyelashes, slightly alarmed. “That's concerning.”

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. It was weird seeing his strict mask crumble down into a relaxed demeanor without that crease in-between his eyebrows plus the familiar daily harsh glare.

For some, the image of Hotch chuckling was barbaric. You'd definitely never believe it if you hadn't seen it yourself. The same was for any of your friends. It was absurd, but it happened.

“What would this deal be, sir?”

“Take a break,” his gaze lowered to the fawn casefile quickly and then to you, the strict fire in his eyes coming back slightly. Except that that one wasn't from Hotchner, BAU's unit chief, but from Aaron, your friend that enjoyed going on marathons when he had a — rare — day off, the one who actually laughed at jokes involving sports. “You are tired. You deserve it.”

You don't.

There are more victims out there, ones you haven't even heard of yet and you're whining about not having enough sleep or not being able to breath right because your chest is tight.

You don't deserve rest. You don't deserve the life you have. You don't—

“I'm almost finished.”

“The deal is: you're gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine,” he leaned back, watching you focus back on the paperwork. He was able to see the bags under your eyes and that grey haze. Anyone could. No amount of make-up could hide the pain in your eyes. “Then, you're gonna have a bad day.” Your hand froze as you were about to turn a page. He carried on. “And that's understandable. Just let me know when you do and if you'd like to talk about it. Can you do that?”

You wanted to say you were fine and move on, just pretend you weren't dying inside, begging to get some time away from you own thoughts. But a part of you desired to be taken care of, to be heard, even if what you said didn't make any sense. You wished to just be heard.

So, for the first time in a long time, you admitted it out loud — to your boss, of all people. Well, he offered first so that was on him. Through the way he looked at you, a spark of understanding, you wondered if he knew what was going on deep down. Or if he find it too familiar to just let it go.

“I'm having a bad day,” you squeezed the pen on your hand until your knuckles turned white. Diverting your attention to the window, you focused on the clouds as you spoke up. “It's one of many but sometimes I—I can't help it.”

You felt your neck heating up, the shame arriving too soon after you confessed your feelings. It was so hard to talk about them, to be vulnerable with someone else.

Maybe they'll find me stupid. Not maybe, they'll certainly find me stupid and a burden and finally realize that I shouldn't be there.

“We can't control them all the time, can we?”

Your graze drifted back to Hotch, his stance hadn't changed as if he had been expecting your words. He carried on upon seeing the frown of confusion in your face.

“Our thoughts,” Aaron clarified. “We can't control them. Not all the time.”

You nodded quietly in response, munching on your lower lip.

“But we don't need to be alone with them,” he watched as you kept on fidgeting with your hands, picking at your nails. “You know what I do when I have a bad day?” Casting him a curious look, he offered you a sad smile. That reserved expression he had whenever he would mention Hailey in a conversation. “I visit Hailey's grave. I talk to her about everything. Not that I just remember her on bad moments, she's with me every day. But on those times... I need her. And that's what I do.”

“Do you feel better?” You ask, something in your chest crawling up until your eyelids.

Hotch reaches for your arm, squeezing in reassurance. “I do. But it's a lot better when I talk to someone that's here.”

That's when the dam broke. You didn't sob, no. It was more of a silent cry that had been waiting a long time to be released. When you finally know you can be open with someone and they won't judge you for it? It's relieving. You had been waiting on that feeling for such a long time.

“I'm sorry,” you sniffled, pulling your head away from his shoulder. “That wasn't supposed to happen, I'm not like this.”

“You don't have to apologize.” He said gently, offering you his handkerchief. You begrudgingly accepted, it was better than to have snot running out of you nose. You could wash it and give it back later. “It's alright.”

“A hard week, actually,” you shook your head, frowning at your hands. “I was doing everything on automatic, I felt so... numb. And now I just want to cry it all out. As if everything that I've been bottling up—”

“... it's coming back.” You nod as he completed your line of thought. “That happens when you don't get any rest.” He gave you a pointed look and you had the decency of smiling sheepishly. “Do you think you could try and do that tonight? Forget the paperwork. Go home, take care of yourself, get some sleep. I know it's a stretch to say you could have a few days off—”

You gasped, “please don't.” Hotch chuckled softly, and you flushed red at the desperation displayed in your tone. It's not that you were married to work, but disrupting your whole routine like this could make you feel even worse. You had to start by baby steps, like properly eating and sleeping, otherwise you'd feel more guilty for staying off work and the amount of late stuff you'd have to get back to...

“Let's say that if you need to take some time off...” Hotch said. “You can do that. You are allowed.”

“Thank you, Hotch.”

“No need to thank me.” He gave you a soft smile. Soon, both of you got back to your own little worlds. And you took your rightful spot by the window, cheek resting against the small pillow you carry on the jet. You followed the movement of the clouds as the plane whisked by them, your eyelids started getting heavy and that's when you knew that the tea was doing its effect in your system.

You were too wiped out to feel a warm soft blanket wrap around your body, but your fists subconsciously closed around it tightly.

“Are they okay?” Spencer asked softly, careful to not wake you up from your slumber. But you seemed to be in a deep sleep, so much so that you barely moved when he tucked his blanket around your shoulders. He had seen you crying a few minutes ago as you and Hotch shared a quiet conversation. He didn't want to intrude, but his concern was all over the place.

Hotch hummed, the corner of his lips quirking up slightly as Spencer made sure to move the casefiles to the coffee table instead of your lap, leaving you free of any burdens that could wake you up.

“They'll be fine.” He ensured Spencer, whose concerned eyes studied you for a moment before he nodded and sat down on his own seat.

You had a good support team right behind you if needed. You weren't alone, you'd be alright.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a/n: I really wished someone said that to me. that's pretty much things I want to hear in days like that. if you feel this way, feel free to dm me anytime. if you don't want to talk, I love you either way <3

[sfwregressionfanfictions]

Aaron Hotchner X Little! Reader: Accidental Slip

Summery: Requested

W/C: 1056

It was a long day of paper work after a brutal case. Involving regressors, that one hit too close to home. Thank goodness the team promised to not profile each other anymore, otherwise they would have discovered my regression. 

As I stare at the paper in front of me, the words begin to grow to large and complex. My brain is becoming too fuzzy for this. I look at a note I was writing, the words appear blocky and nearly illegible. I have to options: 1. Fight the regression and get the report done, or 2. Tell Hotch I’m gonna finish the report tomorrow and leave.

The second option is a no go, Hotch is the definition of a daddy. He’s strict and stern, but is also gentle and caring towards the team. I would regress the second I looked at him. So the only option is the first one, which is harder than it sounds.

I try to work on the papers for over 20 minutes but I’m just not able to focus on it. The words aren’t wording! The frustration is growing and as is my want to regress.

“What are you doing?” 

Uh-oh, it’s Hotch!

“Ummm tryin’ to finish my work…” I mumble trying to sound big and strong.

“Hmm… Well from what I saw, you weren’t doing much work.” Hotch said, his voice flat.

“‘M sorry, can’t focus” I choked out, tears welling up in my eyes as I try to speak.

“It’s okay, it’s too late for you to be working, how about you take a break in my office and then I’ll drive you home… You seem a bit out of it, you shouldn’t drive.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. You will take a break and then go home. “And I will finish your report today.”

“But-“ the sentence died short, he had a daddy face on that said ‘quit it now’.

“Come on now.” He already collected your bag, paperwork, and jacket. Walking towards his office. I was quick to chase him, a little clumsily, I’m too little to walk well without a little help.

Once we were in his office he shuts the door.  He places my stuff on the chair near his desk, before moving to pull the sofa/futton thing out, making the couch into a little bed. I stand still by the door watching him walk to the closet and grab a few pillows, blankets, and a small stuffed animal (your fav animal).

“There if you get sleepy, you can nap. I don’t have any toys, but I have a few coloring books over on that shelf,” He paused to point, “and some colored pencils. I won’t be too long then I’ll drive you home.”

The wheels spun in my head for a few seconds before I realized what he was saying, “I’m not a child! I don’t need to be entertained by toys!”

God, I sound like I’m trying to convince myself. I want those toys and coloring books and I want to be treated like a baby! But my boss can’t know that!

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I just could tell you are regressing. Is there someone I should have called instead?” Hotch said as he sat at his desk, only concerned that my daddy would want to know.

“How did you know? When did you figure it out?” Suddenly I’m nervous, fidgety and aware of my breathing.

“Since I met you. I’m a profile, that’s how I knew.” Hotch answered flatly, “now is there someone I should call? Someone who watches you when you are regressed?”

“N-no” my voice was small, I felt safe again. He knew and he didn’t care. He is okay with me being small.

“Come here,” Hotch said, ushering me further into the room towards where he was sat. I was quick to get behind his desk, standing infront of him, almost between his legs. “Wanna sit?” 

I nod, hoping he meant in his large lap. I wanted him to comfort me, tell me being little was okay. Calling me a perfect little baby. Telling me he was proud of me for being brave during the case.

I was lucky, he lifted me quickly. Wow, he would be a strong daddy! And he was warm and his arms wrapped around me just right when I was in his lap.

“Now, I have a few questions, can you answer them for me?” Hotch asked, I nodded quickly, “such a good baby, how often do you get to be little?”

“Not much,” I say with a huff, I was slipping and I wasn’t scared to do it infront of him.

“Well, when you start feeling small, I want you to come to me, can you do that for me?”

“Mmmhmmmm!” I reply, “dis make you my-?”

“I want to be your daddy, but only after you feel comfortable with that idea. For now, I just want to help you.” Hotch said, rubbing my back.

“Wan chu,” I say leaning into his chest, “wan you ta be dada…”

“Okay, you sleepy baby?” The answer was obviously yes, so before I could answer he quickly moved me around until I was super duper comfortably. Then he started rocking me, mumbling to me how good I was, telling me he adored me and how I was a perfect little baby.

I fall asleep smiling. Tomorrow, he was gonna talk to me more about being his girlfriend when I was big and being his baby when I was little. I made sure to tell him he doesn’t have to do both of those just cause of the night before, and he said he wanted to. He said he wanted to since I joking the team.

Thinking back, he always helped carry my bag of the plane, with the excuse that the ramp was steep and I was more likely to fall. He would always make sure I got a hot cocoa rather than a coffee or tea. He would always have my seat next to his. He would yell at cops that were trying to flirt and harass me. Or him telling me to leave early whenever I started to feel slightly smaller.

This wasn’t a random night, he was waiting to be sure I wanted and needed him.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Derek morgan caring for the kid of his future s/o who has been kidnapped because the kid only trusts him and it builds a bond between them

You had been missing for a few hours now. The details of the event weren't exactly clear to the BAU just yet. They knew you were on your lunch break. And the next thing they knew, it was three o'clock and Derek had gotten a phone call from your son, Noah's nursery, asking him where you were and why he hadn't been picked up. Derek had told Hotch about the phone call and promptly left to pick Noah up. And now here they were.

"Did you know (Y/N) had a son?" Spencer asked as JJ tried her best to get Noah to stop screaming. Derek wasn't exactly sure how to answer. You had mentioned Noah to him, but he had never met him.

Noah struggled in JJ's grip, who placed him on the floor. Noah looked around before spotting Derek. Running up to him, he threw himself at the man's legs.

"Hey buddy," Derek smiles as he swoops down, picking him up. "You okay?" Noah doesn't reply, simply burying his head into the crook of Derek's neck and he can't help but smile. "I'm Derek," He introduces himself. "What's your name?"

"Noah." He answers, and there's a moment's pause before he continues. "De'ek, where's Dada?"

"Dada's out at the minute so you're stuck with me, that okay Little Man?" Noah nods his head.

"How old is he?" JJ asked.

"He must be about two or three," Spencer replied.

"Two, he's three in April."

"Nea'ly twee!"

"That's right, little man, nearly three," Derek smiles at the boy in his arms. Penelope awed, placing a hand on her heart before snapping a picture.

"Alright, Morgan, you look after Noah, we'll work on finding (Y/N)," Hotch said, Noah reached a hand up, gently patting Derek's cheek. Morgan gave a sharp nod at Hotch's orders, trying his best to ignore the photo being taken. He didn't like not being able to help as much, but Noah needed him right now.

Noah yawned, placing his head back on Derek's shoulder. "Nap time it is," Derek said.

"Use my office," Hotch said, Derek nodded and immediately began climbing the stairs. He knew Noah could get grumpy without his sleep.

[ddejavvu]

hotch <3 with his pretty little kitty <33 he feels so bad about leaving her at home when he has big trips, but on days where it’s guaranteed just office work? he has the kitty bed next to his desk fluffed up and extra cozy so she’s within petting reach all day <333

reaching down to pet and rub down her back when she’s napping, smiling at the her rumbling purr <3 or! coming home after a long three-day trip, and snuggling with her on the couch <33 kissing her nose and holding her so close while she bumps her head against his and purrs like a motorboat <333 and 🥺 her licking his face and scruff, muttering about grooming while he scratches at her thighs and makes sure to get all her sensitive spots <3333 sighs dramatically

i'd kill to be his cat hybrid.. hybrid au faq

ohhh he ducks down to give you a good scratch when he's in between files, leaning down to rake his nails up your back and chuckle at the little shiver it elicits from you. you peer sleepily up at him from where you were napping, blinking slow and adoringly at him as he smooths his hand over your ears. your sweet purr, even though it's startlingly loud, gives him the boost that he needs to get through the day!! but he has to be careful, bc penelope gets very distracted by you and she'll come into his office 25358735 times a day to hand him copies of papers he doesn't need (one time she printed out a picture of a dog meme she'd found just to have an excuse to go into his office and pet you when you lean over and rub your face against her legs from where you're sitting beside the desk <33

oh oh oh cozying up on the couch together, you in his lap, butting your head under his chin and smothering yourself in the flushed skin of his neck. he's warm and soft and he smells like him and you breathe him in with a contented purr, feeling his broad hand rubbing up your back and over your ears. eventually you decide to give some love back, licking up his jaw and over the smattering of stubble on his face, taking turns between grooming him and butting your head against it and rubbing your face on him. he just lays there and lets you have your way with him, a massive smile on his face as you take care of him after his long day at work :')

[masterwords]

the only light i ever saw

Summary: After a brutal few weeks on the job, Strauss gives the whole BAU a week off. Hotch & Morgan head up to a cabin in the woods for some time to reconnect. Like usual, things aren't quite as easy as they should be.

Words: 4.5k

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: mentions of canon-typical case stuff, minor injuries, sex (explicit but quick)

Notes: Inspired by Hotch keeping his bike in his office and a desperate need to write more Sean.

Read on AO3: the only light i ever saw

**

Sometimes things were slow. They worked Monday through Friday jobs, had weekends off, were home by dinner time. Other times things were so wild that they were more or less zombies wondering what it was like to sleep in their own beds (or sleep at all). There was usually some kind of balance to it all, if you looked at the big picture, but right now they were barely able to keep their eyes open. The big picture was nothing but a blur. They had cases stacked up, one after another, for weeks. Every time they arrived home it was time to hop back on the jet. Once they were even diverted mid-air to an Amber Alert. It was just that kind of a month. They all kind of lived for it, the adrenaline keeping them going when their bodies said stop. Take-out boxes piled up in hotel rooms and they took turns on laundromat duty when they stayed in places where the hotels didn’t take care of that for them. They would sleep in shifts when they could and hope that through it all, they didn’t make any mistakes.

A body in motion stays in motion, that’s what Derek liked to say when someone started dragging. “Come on, lazy bones. My grandmama could do this in her sleep.”

“At least she’d be asleep,” Reid snapped, dragging his unruly hair into a bun on top of his head for something to do with his hands. He was way past running out of steam, he barely remembered what steam was like. That was saying a lot for someone with a memory like Reid’s.

“You can sleep when you’re dead. Here, have some coffee.”

“Morgan my heart is about to explode from all the caffeine and sugar I’ve ingested in the last twenty four hours. I can’t have more coffee. I need a nap.”

Conversations were getting steadily worse as time wore on, until they finally boarded the jet and Strauss told them to go right home as soon as they landed. No ifs ands or buts. No more cases.

“Do not come back for a week,” she said, and she waited expectantly for a cheers or an enthusiastic thank you but was met with dead tired eyes and half-smiles from the people still awake. No one was particularly alert. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you Erin,” Dave finally said when it was clear no one else was going to. “I think the rest of them are asleep with their eyes open.”

“David, please tell me you and Aaron let them sleep sometime during these outings. There are rules. Labor laws still apply to the BAU.”

“It was an Amber Alert, Erin. Those rules don’t apply and you know that. We haven’t slept in at least two days, some of us longer.” He indicated Aaron who was staring intently ahead into middle space, dead to the world but refusing to let himself be the first to drop off. He’d been awake the longest.

She huffed but there was nothing to be said. Dave was right. The regular rules didn’t apply to Amber Alerts, and simply put, she hadn’t ever been a Field Agent. She didn’t have much practical knowledge of how these things looked, barring a couple of exceptions wherein she felt more like she was in the way than helping. “Go home and sleep. All of you.”

At the tarmac, Aaron arranged for a car. None of them were safe to drive. Will picked JJ up and took Reid with them in their car, everyone else piled into an SUV and off they went. Most of them slept in the car with Anderson at the wheel.

They had a week off, but they couldn’t exactly go anywhere too wild...they were still technically on call. If an emergency happened they would be recalled. Always.

Still, there was no question what Aaron and Derek would do once they’d slept in their own beds for a full night. Haley’s parents had Jack for the weekend, spoiling him rotten at Disney World (they were still trying to make up for the divorce by giving in to his every childish whim, and while Aaron didn’t fully support this tactic, saying no to Jack was almost impossible.)

A cabin in the woods, more construction zone than relaxation but it belonged to them. Up there they had spotty cell phone reception (but a landline worked perfectly fine for emergency use only), no television and best of all...no people.

They loaded one bag stuffed with the bare necessities like prescriptions and undergarments and threw it into the back of the car, hooked their mountain bikes onto the roof rack and shoved Clooney into the back seat. They had this spur of the moment weekend getaway down to a science. They could stop at the grocery store on the way but they just needed to get on the road. There were clothes at the cabin, no need to pack much. It was like having a safe house minus the fear.

Once they were on the open highway, they were holding hands over the center console. Fingers slotted together, Aaron pressing a kiss to the back of Derek’s hand as they hurried out of town. Aaron always drove to the cabin, Derek always drove home. Even that was down to science.

Everything was going according to plan until they took the last switchback along the private dirt road that would end at their driveway and saw the glimmer of chrome in the distance. Upon closer inspection, Aaron knew with some certainty what it was and when he pulled into his usual spot it was confirmed. Beside the trash barn with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a book in his hand stood Sean, lost in the world of a Louis L’Amour with yellowed edges. Aaron knew exactly what the book would smell like, pages being turned by nicotine fingers. It was the smell of his childhood, of his grandfather who rolled his own cigarettes out on the back deck of this very cabin.

“Sean!” Derek shouted, leaping out of the vehicle. No matter how excited he was to have this time to themselves, he always loved seeing Sean.

“Sorry guys, I needed a place to crash.”

“You couldn’t call first?”

“You gave me a key and told me anytime...I needed to get away from the city for a while. Didn’t think anyone would be here.”

Aaron sighed but opened his arms for a hug nonetheless. Clooney could barely contain his excitement at seeing Sean because he meant playtime. He meant splashing in the water and going out on canoe rides and hikes on the other side of the lake. Sean spelled adventure for the dog.

“I’ll get out of your hair. You guys look like you were looking for a love nest.”

“No, stay. It’s fine. We just got a few days off from work and had to stay close in case we get recalled.”

“I’m gonna drop my phone in the lake,” Derek said with a smirk. Aaron elbowed him in the ribs.

“You’ll do no such thing. Sean would you help us load in?”

The switchback down the trail was long and steep, but Clooney bounded ahead of them. The lake expanded before their eyes, deep blacks and greens exploding in their vision. It was still early in the morning, the sun had barely begun cresting the trees in the east and every twig that snapped beneath their feet seemed to echo.

“How long are you staying?” Sean asked, hefting the bags of groceries up the side steps and into the kitchen.

“Four days.”

“Awesome. I’ve been messing around with a few recipes, you can be my test audience. I’ve got this catering gig coming up and if I nail it, I might get a shot at the head chef position at this new restaurant opening up in Atlantic City.”

Aaron frowned. He wasn’t looking for any culinary adventures during his few days off, but far be it for him to discourage Sean. “You’re willing to move to New Jersey?”

“Why not? It’s a cushy job. Atlantic City is closer to family, too.”

“Not by much…”

“Aaron,” Derek warned, shaking his head. “Stop. This is great news! I’m just excited not to have to cook for a few days.”

“Cool! I really think you guys are gonna love what I’m working on. Even my pickier than a toddler brother.”

The minute they were loaded in, Aaron was lacing up his running shoes, ready to blow off some steam for a few long, slow miles. Derek and Sean decided to stay close and take the paddle boards out on the glassy morning water while Clooney lay in the pooling rays of sun as it heated up the floating dock. They spent hours paddle boarding and swimming and lying on the pebbly sand. Aaron even got into the water when he finished his run, the sand sticking to his sore sweaty feet before he entered.

By lunch time, they were all standing waist deep in the cool water with beers, sun on their shoulders, squinting against the glittering waves.

“Why are you really here, Sean?” Aaron asked, wiggling his toes deeper into the sand while tiny little fish skimmed his legs.

“Shawnee broke up with me.”

“Shawnee? I thought your girlfriend’s name was April.”

“April moved to L.A. a year ago Aaron. I’ve been seeing this chick, Shawnee, for about three months. I thought things were going good but she went back to her shithead ex. He’s in this stupid AC/DC cover band. Such a loser.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aaron offered with a wet-handed pat on Sean’s shoulder. “Break ups are never easy.”

“Sure the fuck not! We got a cat and she kept him. I miss Mr. Snarfles.”

“Mr what now?” Derek asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Say that one more time.”

“Mr. Snarfles. He’s this huge fat tomcat we adopted.”

“Did she happen to give you your balls back when she dumped your ass or did she keep them as a souvenir?”

“Oh ha ha, very funny asshole. You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that when you’re getting your dick sucked by my brother…”

Aaron coughed and sputtered a little while Sean and Derek erupted in laughter.

“I know, I know. Sean, don’t talk like that. It’s rude.”

“Oh, that was a perfect impression. You sounded just like him.” Derek was already completely relaxed after only a few hours out of town. He’d always gotten along with Sean and the longer that Derek and Aaron were together, the more Aaron became a sort of third wheel. Aaron started toward the beach, too flustered to respond kindly. He didn’t want to argue or get his feathers ruffled during his much too short vacation but Sean knew exactly how to get under his skin and he was dragging Derek into it. Dropping into the water and gobbling up the space between them quickly, he splashed right up to Aaron and wrapped him in a wet bear hug. “No, no, don’t go pout I’m sorry. Don’t go.”

“I don’t appreciate,” he started but Derek cut him off with a kiss. And another kiss. And he swayed there in the gentle waves with Aaron in his arms for a minute, until he felt those coiled muscles relax again.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Speak for yourself!” Sean called from where he still stood downing the rest of his beer happily.

The next day they took the boat out and ate lunch in the middle of the lake. Sean made a charcuterie board that Clooney couldn’t drag his attention away from. After they’d eaten their fill of cured meats and fruits and cheeses they swam and swam. Aaron had relaxed, Sean had eased up on the teasing, and they were all behaving like children unencumbered by the world. Clooney quickly began looking like the most responsible creature among them, lounging on the boat in the sunshine watching his people with something that looked a little like amusement.

After a lazy day on the boat relaxing, Aaron started feeling the itch to move. To be active and he decided it was time for a ride. It was something like tradition, he and Sean setting out on the winding dirt roads that would take them up up up the mountain – well, the oversized hill, anyway. As children they’d pretended to be Frodo and Sam on their way to Mount Doom, now they were just two middle aged men whose knees clicked and popped with every rotation of the wheels but the feeling of elation at the wind in their faces hadn’t changed. “You don’t mind?” Aaron asked Derek who was lounging on the couch with a book splayed open on his chest, a mug of coffee gone cold sitting on the floor beside him.

“Go on, have some fun. I’m gonna get some shut eye.”

The roads were familiar enough that Aaron could have traveled them in his sleep. The feeling of the dirt beneath his tires was freedom. When Sean was little, he would cling to Aaron’s back like a wild thing, strangling him with all his might. They didn’t make it much farther than the first switchback in those days but to them it felt like a thousand miles. By the time Sean had learned to ride without training wheels he could travel as far with Aaron as either of them wanted to go. They’d grown up together on those roads, had seen them go from game trails to gravel and finally settling at packed dirt that was easily traveled by car, bike or ATV. When the wild ones came out with their ATVs they dug up the roads, pitted it in places that were hard to see, made biking perilous.

Aaron, caught in a brief moment of wonder at an Eagle soaring overhead, managed to catch one particularly deep rut with his front wheel. Over the handlebars he flew into the brush, skidding to a halt among brambles and ground cover to the sound of Sean screaming his name.

“I’m okay,” he called when he heard the panic in Sean’s voice ringing through the trees. Sean calling his name like that trumped any pain he might be in, he had to get up, get back to the road, prove to Sean it was okay. He’d taken quick stock of himself and couldn’t detect any real injury (except maybe to his pride), so up he shot and walked briskly back out of the thicket before Sean could come in after him. He’d already dumped his bike on the side of the road and was running back at a frightening clip for a man who spent most of his adult life smoking a pack a day.

“Sit down!” Sean called, reaching his idiot brother and gasping for breath. “Seriously. Sit your ass down, my god. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m fine Sean.”

“You just flew over your handlebars, you need to sit before you pass out.”

Sean hollering in the middle of the serene woods did nothing to make him feel better about the situation, so to humor him, Aaron sat down on a fallen log that lay parallel with the road’s edge. His knees clicked loudly as he lowered himself onto the log and he felt a bolt of pain somewhere deep in his lower back. Sean began looking him over, brushing renegade chunks of sweaty blonde hair from his eyes every few seconds with a huff.

“Believe me yet Mr. Eagle Scout?” Aaron asked, a smile softening the edge of sarcasm in his voice. Sean just slid his backpack off of his shoulder and dropped it to the ground with a thud, unzipping it quickly. He was carrying the first aid kit and snacks, both of which he dumped out quickly onto the ground. An apple rolled into the rut Aaron’s bike lay in and Sean paid it no attention. He handed his brother a berry Capri Sun and watched as he struggled to get the straw into the foil before taking it from him and doing it himself. The cupboards were stocked with juice boxes and Capri Suns for Jack, but they made perfect quick little sugary drinks especially in an emergency.

Sean deemed this an emergency, whether his brother agreed or not.

“Drink it.”

“Sean…” Aaron protested weakly. He did feel lightheaded now that he was sitting down, now that his body was slowly easing itself down from the adrenaline rush. “Fine.”

“Does your neck hurt?”

“No.”

“Your back?”

“A little...I’m old Sean. My back always hurts.”

“You’ve got jokes.”

“Sean, I’m fine. A little sore but aside from my wounded pride I’m alright. Let’s just finish our ride okay?”

“You still want to ride?”

“It’s only a mile to the lookout. We came all this way to have lunch up there.”

Sean took in the sight of his brother, the already drying blood on his chin and the reassuring smile as he finished the last drop of his juice pouch. They could ride slow, eat their lunch, and if worst came to worst he could always call Derek to come get them in the car. They were in the middle of nowhere, but modern civilization had touched this tranquil place and they had cell phone reception. All in all, he didn’t feel good about it, but he would indulge his brother.

“For The Shire,” Sean said hesitantly. Aaron smiled and held out his hand for Sean to pull him upright. There was no way his body was doing that on its own.

“For The Shire.”

(x)

By the time they got back to the cabin, Aaron couldn’t hide his discomfort and didn’t really try. His back and shoulders were on fire and his head was pounding. He was a mess of scrapes and bruises, but they were both smiling and laughing as they dumped the bikes in the sand and kicked out of their sweaty, grimy shoes. Feet in the icy water, hands extended to accept ice cold beers. When Sean told Derek what happened he did it with an animated quality that made Aaron flush almost magenta before wading further into the water. The chill felt almost heavenly against his sore muscles.

“You’re a disaster magnet,” Derek muttered, taking in the sight of Aaron in the water. He would need a shower and some cleaning up, those skinned knees and the blood on his chin made him look like a child after a long hard summer day of adventuring. His hair stood up in messy, sweaty tufts where his helmet had smashed and mussed it. Reaching out, Derek pulled Aaron to him, eyes seeking the answer to a question he wasn’t going to ask.

“It was fun.”

“Yeah?”

Sean got the BBQ going out on the beach while Aaron napped off his afternoon excitement in the hammock with Clooney. He was beat and the unexpected flight had managed to finally catch up with him. The chill of the lake water had taken the edge off, and a nice shower afterward to clean himself up and bandage up the worse of it was all he needed to get himself back into full relax mode. A little worse for wear, but nothing he was concerned about.

His nap gave Derek and Sean time to drink beers and dig their feet in the sand and talk about heartache, just the two of them. Things were quiet, listening to the waves lapping against the shore, the sound of woodpeckers tapping at tree trunks, at leaves rustling beneath the gentle caress of the wind.

“I talk a lot of shit about you and my brother,” Sean said, half-drunk and lying all the way in the sand now. No towel or blanket, just his body in the sand. The smell of grilling meat was intoxicating but they still had time before it was done and he was well on his way to drunk after the stress of the day. After fearing the worst – how bad that wreck could have been, and how lucky they were that it wasn’t. That they got to finish their ride, enjoy each other’s company up there overlooking the lake and the trees. “But you guys seem really fucking happy. I’m jealous. I end up in all these shitty relationships and he gets lucky both times he tries.”

Derek smiled and sipped his beer. “Well, he did get divorced the first time around but point taken. I’ve been through my fair share of heart breaks and one night stands though. I get it. And you get that reputation for being a dirty dog but you’re just out there looking for something you can’t find...I hear you. You’ll find her.”

“You think you’re gonna marry him?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” came a weary, sleep sodden voice from somewhere close by. Wind skipped over the lake and the hammock rocked, disturbing Clooney. The dog made a pathetic warbling sound and stretched his legs before settling again. Aaron didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes.

“Depends,” Derek replied, not missing a beat. He never did.

“On what?”

“On whether or not you can get my mama’s peach cobbler right. Not hitchin’ my wagon to anyone who can’t whip up my favorite dessert.”

“Looks like you’re shit outta luck my friend,” Sean said with a laugh. He lit up a cigarette and watched it struggle to life against the wind, glowing orange in the dimming evening light. “He can’t cook for shit.”

“Ah well, he can do other things…” Derek mused while Sean made a disgusted noise and stood to go tend to the food. “I guess I can manage if there’s no cobbler.”

From where he lay still half asleep, Aaron smiled. He knew damn well he could make that cobbler.

(x)

Derek spent the night pouting while Aaron lay in bed reading. He maintained his insistence that he wasn’t injured, he was just sore. His body wasn’t exactly used to that kind of impact and he was far too old to bounce right back, injury or no. He could understand Derek’s dismal outlook and the way he moped around the room though. Usually they fucked for hours in the woods, anywhere and any time they wanted. He’d been looking forward to it after weeks of back to back cases and a forced celibacy spell. He didn’t regret that part, they wouldn’t cross that line while they were working, but it was supposed to be done now, and it wasn’t. Not because of the bike accident, either. No, it was worse than that. Derek pouted because Sean was there and Aaron simply wouldn’t do it with his brother in the bedroom beneath them.

“Sean thinks we’re up here fucking,” Derek protested, his erection painful in his boxers. “Why aren’t we?”

“He thinks we are, he doesn’t need to hear it.”

“Is it your back? You can just be honest...maybe we should go home and get you checked out.”

“My back is fine,” Aaron replied. And even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t admit to that now that Derek was bringing it up. “I just don’t want Sean to hear the bed squealing. These springs are loud.”

“We can go out on the deck, or into the shower, or stand right there against the wall…”

It never took long for Derek to wear him down. He wanted to just as bad as Derek did most of the time, and even now. Even when his lower back felt tight and achy and he just wanted to sleep the feeling of being hit by a truck away. His quiet hesitation turned into a sly smile on Derek’s face, he knew he’d worn Aaron down. It wasn’t ever too hard. The fights he put up were flimsy at best.

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand and helping Aaron stand. That part felt natural, pulling him close. Sharing space. He could see the stiffness settling in already, just in the time since they’d been upstairs. His joints were rusting up and when his face scrunched into something that looked like pain when he was finally upright, Derek decided to try and lighten things up. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. “Never seen anyone look hotter with a tore up face.”

Aaron shook his head and smiled into a kiss, one leading to another as clothing dropped to the floor. “You’re full of lies,” he whispered against Derek’s lips. “Say it again…”

“Mmmm…” came the moan when Aaron’s hand circled Derek’s cock. “You smell so good…”

“That’s the menthol cream you rubbed on my back…” Aaron whispered, smirking. Derek grunted halfway between pleasure and annoyance, but he wasn’t lying. He fucking loved the smell of that stuff, and he loved with Aaron was in one of those moods. “You like that?”

“UGH! GOD! SHUT UP!” came Sean’s voice from the hallway and both of them stifled childish laughter.

“Fuck off Sean!” Derek shouted back, thrusting his hips to ensure that Aaron stayed with him. Focused on the task at hand. He only dipped out momentarily at the sound of his brother’s voice, but the sound of the front door slamming shut told the that they now had the cabin to themselves.

The rest was easy. Fast and quiet, breathless bursts of affection littered between kisses and moans of pleasure. They fell into a rhythm that felt like it could last forever, and under different circumstances it might have. But Derek could tell that Aaron seemed to be losing steam, or maybe his back was starting to hurt just a little too much because his motions started lagging and his breathing was getting shallow and strained. He pushed Aaron up against the wall and with one hand on his own cock, he dropped to his knees and took Aaron into his mouth, finishing them both off with an ease that never ceased to amaze Aaron no matter how many times he did it. It was like a sixth sense.

The shower after felt like a treat, hot water against flushed skin and more kisses that might lead right back to where they started on any other night. Not tonight, though. Aaron was stiff and moving slowly, shifting his weight from leg to leg as he brushed his teeth, and it was time for bed.

“We’re heading back home tomorrow,” Derek said, tangling himself up in Aaron’s limbs and tucking the blanket up around them. “You’re going to the doctor and then we’re gonna have some uninterrupted sex. A lot of it.”

“Or we could just tell Sean to get out…this is my cabin.” Aaron paused, a sly smile drifting over his tired features. "Our cabin."

It was hard for Derek to breathe after that, hard for him to think about much of anything outside of jumping on top of Aaron and making one more attempt at sex. But he held back, he could feel Aaron's slow pulse, his quiet almost asleep breath and he sighed. Reality seeped back in. “The guy’s heartbroken. He needs the lake. I need you to myself.”

“What if the doctor says I shouldn’t have sex for a while? You know...to recuperate…” he laid that last part on thick,still smiling into the dark. Maybe hoping Derek would change his mind about even going to the doctor, but Derek just huffed indignantly and kissed Aaron’s shoulder.

"Doctors don't know everything.”

[nicodemuslily]

Comfort

Another set of fanfic illustrations. 

The two first come from the same story. To find a victim abducted by a sadistic young man, Hotch and Prentiss ended in a BDSM Club to investigate in a very special room. Actually, they arrived at the place without knowing where they were going to enter (Garcia discovered the truth too late, and the rest of the crew didn’t want her to warn them (because they just wanted to see their faces when they’ll come back to the office)). In the end, to make amends for forcing Prentiss to see something, he offered her what she wanted: a giant cup of coffee and a cupcake with big chunks of black chocolate, stracciatela napping and a cherry with liqueur on top of it (the scene takes place early in the morning). And Hotch offered another one to Garcia for her to stop blaming herself about sending them in that kind of place. The others got nothing but the vision of the two girls eating the best cupcakes of Virginia. 

Third one: Zugzwang episode. I’m pretty sure Hotch was the last one leaving the place, giving comfort to the youngest of the team who was living something terrible. He stayed with him until he was strong enough to leave Maeve behind (like Rossi did with him when Foyet did what he did) and he didn’t try to hide the truth. He clearly told him that he was going to suffer for days/weeks/months again before the pain becomes less intense. That he won’t forget, but he will live better with those souvenirs. That he’ll live a hard time, but he won’t be alone.

Fourth one: after he discovered the terrible truth about Morgan past, Hotch sat for a moment with him to give him an advice: talk about this to someone. Morgan thought he was talking about him (as the someone), but Hotch offered him names and adresses of peoples more specialized than him for this. People outside of the FBI range. Hotch also told him that, if he don’t want him to talk about what he heard, he can make a report without any mention of it. As Morgan was worried about Buford not paying for his crimes (because of the lack of evidences), Hotch reassured him arguing that he’s ready to go back on trial if it’s necessary to make sure Buford will stay in jail forever.

Last one: as Garcia keeps an eye on every BAU members FBI files, she was the first to know that Hotch was leaving his house for a flat in middle town. Curious, she turned to Hotch to know what this was all about and from one thing to another, she discovered that her boss has to leave the house because he and Haley split up, and that he’s going to move into his empty flat, later in the evening, alone. Hotch didn’t want anyone to come (because of the shame of his disastrous mariage and because he didn’t want to bother his team for nothing), but Garcia was doing so much ruckus that Morgan appeared in the boss office, then Prentiss, then JJ and Spencer, and Rossi in the end. Finally, all the team moved the three boxes he had to his new place and stayed for the night, watching an anonymous but funny movie altogether. And on monday, Hotch discovered a pile of boxes full of stuff for his apartment that the team bought during the week-end (stuff he never asked for actually, but he took everything. He even kept the mailbox label Garcia made for him, with tiny hearts and a glitter-y german sheperd (he didn’t put it on the mailbox, but he kept it anyway)).

___

Criminal Minds synopsis: a team of FBI agents hunting for the worst serial killers ever all over the United States. 

Criminal Minds synopsis into my head: found family of traumatised kiddos overprotected by a gigantic frowning tenebrous (sexy) man who can’t stand to see them suffer.

Clearly, there is not enough scenes like that in the show. I like the investigation part, but love more the soft moments where they are supporting each other. :)     

[pending-dope-username]

a collection of incorrect criminal minds quotes featuring reid, morgan, and garcia!

Derek: Silence is golden. Spencer: Duct tape is silver. ___ Derek: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it. ___ Derek: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now. ___ Spencer: The Ocean is a soup. Penelope: Penelope: Do elaborate. Spencer: What are needed for something to be a soup? Penelope: Erm… Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine. Spencer: Tilts head Penelope: The Ocean is a Soup. Spencer: The Ocean is a Soup. ___ Penelope: speaking Spanish Spencer: I know, I know. Derek: You speak Spanish? Spencer: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Penelope speaks. ___ Derek: Being half asleep and feeling someone gently plant a kiss on your forehead is one of the purest kinds of love in the world. Penelope: Unless you're home alone. ___ Derek: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you… Penelope: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey. (this one is canon, try to convince me otherwise) ___ Spencer: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Penelope! Derek: So Penelope knows about this? Spencer, walking away: No, this is between me and me! ___ Spencer: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend. ___ At the police station Derek: Hi, I’m here for Spencer. Police officer: Who’s Spencer? Derek: Ah, you must be new. ___ at 3am Penelope: runs into Spencer’s room and turns on the light Wake up sleepyhead! Spencer: wakes up Dude! Penelope: cackles Derek: sits up from where they were sleeping behind Spencer What the fuck, Penelope? Penelope: jaw drops Wait WHAT- ___ Penelope: ….Thou shalt not marry each other, for thy art both sinful… Derek: I just wanna fucking marry Spencer!! ___ The gang is about to do something dangerous Derek: Shouldn’t someone give a pep talk? Penelope: Go ahead. Derek: Be careful. Derek: Don’t die. Spencer: Holds back a laugh Penelope: Great. We’re all bloody inspired. (hotch is probably busy or smth) ___

Penelope: That shirt looks great, Derek. Derek: Thanks. Penelope: But I bet it would look even better on Spencer's floor. Spencer: Are you hitting on Derek… for me?

[aswallowssong]

Whumptober (Sickfic) Day 4 - Headache

SCRC AU

Read on AO3

-----

By the time she’d pawed at her eyes for the sixth time, actively displacing her left contact, again, and making her want to scream, she was done for the day. 

It was only ten o’clock. 

It had been years since she’d had a headache that made her feel like she could drop dead, but in the fluorescent lights of the BAU bullpen, she was pretty close. There were plenty of reasons she could think of that would contribute to the splitting pressure sitting behind her eyes and wrapping around her temples. 

She hadn’t been sleeping. Not since she’d stared down the barrel of a gun three weeks before. To compensate, she’d been drinking an insane amount of caffeine, and not enough water to keep her anywhere near hydrated. She still pushed in the morning with Morgan, maybe harder than before. Her fitness exam was coming up, and she hadn’t wracked up enough field hours to have it deferred or covered. 

Plus, she was supposed to have her monthly review with Unit Chief Ramos at the end of the week, so she needed to review all of the files she’d worked on in the last thirty days, and the two health meetings they’d been able to squeeze in, and the post takedown reviews. Including the one where she’d been nearly shot in the face.

I’m going to scream.

She pulled her backpack off the floor, grabbing in the first pocket for the small mirror she kept for emergencies. Like when her contact was threatening to blind her.

“Why don’t you just put your glasses on?” 

Her eyes flicked up, wincing when she felt her contact stab her, and she was met with Reid’s searching eyes. He was the only one that knew she wore glasses, and she was glad that everyone else had seemingly gone to lunch. Except, of course, Hotch, who never seemed to leave his office, ever, for any reason. 

“They snapped,” she said, annoyance dripping on her tongue despite her best efforts. “In Texas.”

“When your backpack got run over?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “When my backpack got run over.”

He thought for a moment before saying, “That’s the third time you’ve pulled out your mirror to fix your contacts after rubbing your eyes. You know, you should wash your hands before you touch your eyes or face. There’s an estimated-”

“No, Reid, stop.” She held up a hand to him, one hand rubbing harshly at her left temple. “I know how many germs are on my hands. I know the risk of eye infection. Please leave me alone.”

There was a moment of quiet before he tilted his head at her, tongue flicking over chapped lips before he asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she breathed, moving to fix her contact, again. 

“Okay,” he said quietly. He turned back to his own file, though he was getting through his much faster than she was. His hands flicked over the pages as he read, and Kit felt envy for him she’d never felt before. 

It was almost twenty minutes, while Kit had her face in her hands, that Reid said, “Do you have a headache?”

She could have laughed if she wasn’t so miserable. “Yeah,” she said.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes, Reid.”

“Is the light hurting your eyes?”

She looked up at him, feeling more exhausted and annoyed by him with every moment that passed between them. “Yes, Reid. The light is hurting my eyes.” Her voice was far harsher than it should have been. She and Reid didn’t get along perfectly, but things had been better than at the beginning of her stay with the BAU. They rarely outright argued, they never really had, but she was ready to let him have it.

That was, until his voice got quiet, and small, and he sheepishly asked, “Did I win?”

Kit tilted her head at him, her eyebrows pulling together as she tried to restrain herself from rubbing at her eyes. “I dtigh diabhail, Reid,” She snapped, “Did you win what?”

“I’m Fine,” he said simply, not letting her annoyance phase him. The only thing she was getting from him was calm, which while she appreciated it, it also annoyed her. “That’s what you called it, right? When I was sick in New Jersey? I got three. That means I win.”

She shook her head quickly, immediately disliking the way it made the world swing around her. “That’s not how it works.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m pretty sure those were the rules. I have an eidetic memory.”

“I don’t-” She started before stopping herself. Reid had squared to her and had his arms crossed, a challenge brewing in his eyes. 

She wanted to fight with him. She hadn’t fought with someone in a while, and she was in the right mood to go absolutely nuclear, but she found herself deflating as she looked at him. Sheepish, submissive Spencer Reid was challenging her in her domain, and the only thing she could do was wince as her head throbbed extra hard. 

“What do you want from me, Spencer?”

He nodded at her, gesturing to the backpack in her lap. “Give me your backpack.”

“That’s not-”

“Dakota,” he said, gesturing again. 

She tossed it over to him, which he caught easily. He pulled it open, searching for only a few seconds before pulling out the bottle of ibuprofen and one of the little bottles of water she always kept. He didn’t give them to her, like she was expecting, but instead nodded towards her mirror. “Take your contacts out.”

“Everything is going to be blurry.”

“I know, but when I have a headache, the only thing I want to do is take my contacts out.”

She stared at him with squinted eyes before saying quietly. “I didn’t know you wore contacts.”

“Yes you did, it’s in my file,” he said. She shook her head again, slower than before, and mumbled, “I didn’t memorize every single part of every single file. There were seven of them.”

He simply nodded towards her mirror again, and she sighed before doing what he said.

She had so many things to do, and the stress wasn’t helping, but she’d lost. She’d made him follow her rules when they were in New Jersey, even though he didn’t want to, so even though she had a lot to do, it would be hypocritical to go against her own system. 

The world was instantly blurry when she took the contacts out, just like she’d told him, but she did feel a significant amount of pressure lessen from behind her eyes.

“Better?” He asked, and she nodded gently. “Yeah, a little.”

He nodded back to her, gesturing for her to follow him as he stood and started for the stairs. If her head had pounded less, she might have reminded him that she just took her contacts out, and it would take significantly more mental energy for her to climb the stairs without tripping and falling to her death. Instead she took them carefully, trying not to whine when her toe caught, and the jerk it caused her did not help her situation in the slightest.

Spencer led her around to Hotch’s office, and her chest flooded with anxiety. “Wait, Spencer, no. I didn’t tell Hotch in Jersey, you can’t tell him now.”

He stopped short, turning and shaking his head at her. “Hotch is way different when we’re in the office. On a case, he’ll bench you. Here? He’s different. I’d thought you’d noticed that; you’ve been here a few months.”

“Noticed what?” She asked, not at all understanding what he was getting at. 

“Don’t you notice when people disappear during the day?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I assumed they went to meetings, or lunch, or to go ask Garcia a question. If I’m reading I don’t-”

“You don’t even notice, right. Well, trust me, you’ll want to know about this.”

He knocked on Hotch’s door, even though it was open like it always was.

“Yes?” Hotch said, and Reid poked his head into the office. “Are you busy?”

“No,” she heard Hotch say, and Reid took a step in the door, gesturing for Kit to follow. She swallowed down her anxiety, sure she was going to be scolded for letting a headache get in the way of her work. It took a second before she was willing to step into the office behind Reid, and when she looked at Hotch with squinted eyes, she saw his body language shift to that of concern.

“What’s going on?”

“Do you have a meeting today?” Reid asked, shifting his weight from side to side. Hotch shook his head, looking between them before saying, “No. Section Chief Strauss isn’t coming in until tomorrow. Why?”

“There’s a phone call for you in the conference room.”

Kit looked between the two men with bewilderment. There was most certainly not a call for Hotch in the conference room. She didn’t even think there was a phone in the conference room.

“What are you-” She started to say, but Hotch seemed to relax slightly as he nodded at Reid. 

“Ah. How long?”

“Maybe an hour?” Reid said, and Hotch nodded again. 

“Okay,” he said as he gathered the file in front of him, as well as two others that were sitting on the desk. “Come get me when you’re done.”

“Yes, sir,” Reid said simply, and Kit couldn’t have been more surprised when Hotch stepped around his desk and walked out of his office.

Reid moved with practiced ease, pulling the blinds closed and setting the water and the pill bottle on the table. 

Kit had to shake herself out of her focused trance to say, “Wait, wait, what are you doing?”

He turned to her and looked like it was the most idiotic question he’d ever encountered. “I’m shutting the blinds.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, turning back to finish the job. “When they’re open people can see inside, and also, the fluorescent lights still come through.”

She looked around for a moment, everything blurry and her head pounding, and she said quietly. “Spencer, stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop for a second. What are we doing in here? Why did Hotch leave? Why are you shutting all the blinds, and why did you lie to Hotch about a phone call?”

All the questions tumbled out of her, and he froze in place for a moment before he faced her again. “Oh. It’s a code. I told Hotch he had a phone call so he would know to go work in the conference room.”

“But why?”

His eyebrows pulled together for a second before he let out a quiet chuckle. “So you can take a nap.”

She stared at him for a moment before it all clicked together. “Wait, that’s where you all go during the day?”

He shook his head quickly. “Not all the time, and not all of us. Mostly Elle and I, and sometimes JJ, but she has her own office. But her office doesn’t have a couch.” 

Kit was amazed. “So, you developed a code so that you can come take a nap? On Hotch’s couch? And he just let it happen?”

Reid shook his head again, his smile pushing wider. “No,” he said simply, “Hotch developed a code so that we could come take a nap on his couch.” He stalked towards the door satisfied with the blinds and when he looked at her again his eyes were sympathetic. “There’s a pillow and a blanket in the side table. The top opens up. I’ll come get you in an hour.”

Without another word he slipped out the door frame, leaving her alone in the office. The bottle of ibuprofen and the water sat on Hotch’s desk, and for the first time that day, she felt herself relax. There was a contingency plan. Hotch had a plan for his team when they needed a break, and as a healthcare provider, she’d never felt more sure that a team leader cared about his team.

She turned to shut the door, but found herself calling out the door, “Spencer?”

He was almost down the stairs, and turned to look back up at her, “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she said, her breath catching as she felt tears pool in her eyes. She desperately needed a nap, and she was suddenly very touched that Reid had even noticed something was wrong. 

He shrugged simply and nodded. “Of course, Dakota. Have a nice nap.”

She heard a chuckle come from her chest, and she nodded at him before turning back inside and flipping off the light.

[hotchaways]

“ wait, you knew? “ “ you haven't exactly been discreet... “ With Hotch fluff?

You should’ve known better than to hide your secret relationship with Aaron from the BAU. They were bound to find out sooner or later, you just didn’t expect that they’d find out…later than what the two of you were expecting.

The relationship was fairly new– it hadn’t been a year, although, if you were to count the year or two that you were mutually, but idiotically clueless, pining for each other? The time period would’ve been longer.

Being your unit chief, Aaron was different behind closed doors– the usual furrowed eyebrows were relaxed, the rarely smiling persona did a flip, especially when he saw you and Jack goofing around.

“Here,” Aaron mumbled as he took off his suit jacket to drape it on you, “I reminded you to pack a jacket, sweetheart.”

You yawned as you snuggled into it, letting the scent of his cologne soothe you, “Maybe I just want an excuse to borrow my boyfriend’s things that are really cozy.”

He softly laughed as he shook his head and leaned down to kiss your forehead, “You can borrow it anytime as long as you ask.”

“How about your quarter zip?” You smiled sleepily.

“What’s mine is yours, baby,” He smiled and stroked your hair back, “Get some sleep, we won’t be home for at least an hour.”

“You too, Aaron. Take a nap and work on the papers later,” You yawned once more, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Aaron whispered as he walked back to his seat on the jet.

He looked over at your sleeping form as he filed through the paperwork in his hands and he couldn’t wipe the small smile off his face. But little did he know, your relationship was going to be out in the open at work the next day.

“Hey, (Y/N), come here,” Emily called you over from Penelope’s batcave, “We gotta show you something.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you walked on over, “What’s up?”

Derek closed the door behind you and crossed his arms, “How long?”

“Has what been?” You raised your eyebrows, “I need a little more detail on that, Morgan.”

Emily looked at you as she deadpanned, “You and Hotch? What else?”

You were pretty sure you zoned out for a few seconds until Penelope waved her hands in front of your face, “Oh my god, she’s in shock!”

“Wait, you knew?” You said as you blinked a few times than usual, “Wha- how did you know about that?”

“Spence here told us what he saw last night,” JJ smiled as he patted Spencer’s shoulder, “Nothing to be embarrassed of and in my viewpoint, you haven’t exactly been discreet.”

“I swear it was not intentional! My neck started to strain and I wanted to change my position and I saw, well heard, you and Hotch’s conversation,” Spencer explained, “But to be fair, anyone would’ve guessed it.”

“Spill it, we want to hear it from you,” Emily grinned, “C’mon, we just need a little more confirmation!”

“She’s right,” Penelope groaned, “All we had for months was lingering stares and touches that you thought we didn’t notice, Jack always running to your desk when he came by. It’s the perfect grumpy and sunshine trope!”

“Don’t forget when Hotch was practically fuming when the officer back in New York tried to hit on her,” Derek laughed, “Who knew boss man could have his eyebrows furrowed even deeper?”

You sighed as you threw your arms up in the air, “Well, cat’s out of the bag, I guess. Yes, Aaron and I are in a relationship and have been in one for 10 months now.”

As the team high fived and laughed together, Aaron cleared his throat and crossed his arms, “So, what kind of rendezvous is going on in here?”

“We just wanted to play a game, (Y/N) lost though,” Emily teased with a smile.

“And, what game might that be?”

“Corner (Y/L/N) and ask her about her relationship with the unit chief, it’s a fun game,” Derek grinned as he slung his arm around Aaron, “Boss man finally getting the girl.”

Aaron smiled softly as he shook his head, “A game where (Y/L/N) loses is always fun.”

“Hey, I do win, sometimes,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “To be fair, we expected you to find out or confront us sooner than this.”

Penelope squealed as she brought you and Aaron into a side hug, “I’m so happy for the two of you! Please invite us to the wedding.”

“Okay, Garcia, calm down,” Aaron chuckled, “Maybe you could be the wedding planner when we get married.”

“This is so exciting,” She clapped as she shooed everyone out of her batcave, “I have to start planning now.”

The team laughed as they went back to their respective desks, except you, who followed Aaron to his office.

“Hey, Aaron?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He smiled as he settled down on his chair.

“About what you said earlier…” You trailed off, “You know, with Penelope.”

“The wedding?” Aaron raised his eyebrows at you, “We still could get some professional advice too, though.”

“No, not that,” You shook your head, “It’s just that you said when we get married?”

“When,” Aaron nodded and looked up at you, “You know I love you, right?”

You smiled at him, “I do.”

“Now, get back to your desk,” Aaron laughed as he leaned over to give you a quick kiss, “I see Morgan and Prentiss possibly gossiping about us.”

join my mini celebration by sending a request here!

[hoe4hotchner]

Getaway

Pairing: Young!Hotch x Reader

Words: 731

“C’mon, Aaron! You can’t sit in here all day!” You whined, taking your boyfriend’s hand and starting to drag him up from his chair.

Aaron had been cooped in his study room all day, it was really your shared home office. But he used it more, studying every single book on the Bureau and criminal profiling that he could get his hands on. He wanted to become something big within the FBI. After ending his career as a prosecutor, he wanted to prove that he wasn’t just another white-collar person.

“You know I can’t, baby.” Aaron pouted, pulling you down in his lap instead, holding you close to his body by wrapping his arms around your middle. You instinctively pushed the frame of his round glasses back up on the bridge of his nose.

“Is Gideon or Rossi asking you to do this?” You tried your best to raise your brow at him, but it ended up looking more like you were smoldering at him. Aaron couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter at your cute attempt at intimidating him, although you both knew perfectly well that the stare was his thing. “Don’t be mean.” You pouted, crossing your arms across your chest with a frown.

Aaron lowered his head with a smile before looking back up at you with a, somewhat, guilty look in his eyes.

“What if? You let me read this chapter finished, and then we’ll go do whatever you want, then I can study some more later?” He propositioned. You nodded your head eagerly, what you didn’t know, was that it was the first page of the chapter he had flipped onto before you entered.

“Can I stay here?” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

“Of course.” He smiled, pulling the book into your lap as your legs were swung across his.

It felt like hours as you waited for him, even though the chapter was only 10 pages long. You were impatient when it came to Aaron and his job. You knew that once he was on a case that it was best not to disturb him, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t miss him. Instead, you took to spending every single moment you could with him when he was back home.

Aaron felt your body go lax against him as he turned to the last page, barely holding itself up. Put the book back down on the top of the desk, slinging his arm around you to keep you up, while he quickly skimmed over the last couple of sentences.

“There, all done.” He announced, the slight slam of the book being closed stirred you awake, groggy from napping you tried to make sense of the situation. Almost as if you had been ripped from another dimension and just appeared in his lap. “What do you want to do, honey?” He pushed a strand of your hair out of your face, softly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You knuckled tiredly at your eyes, trying to look out of the window behind you.

“Well, I wanted to go to the beach, but it’s pouring down now. Can we just cuddle and watch a movie?” Letting your head fall against his shoulder, Aaron agreed. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the couch.

He placed you down in the middle of it, handing you your favorite blanket before he moved over to the television, lowering himself to the cabinet under it where you kept all of your DVDs.

“What do you want to watch?” He tipped his head back over his shoulder, waiting for your response. You were still a little tired as you tried to recollect which movies you had in your collection.

“Can we watch Aladdin?”

“Anything for you.” Aaron pulled the keep case out of the shelf before he turned on the player and popped the holder out. He made quick work of starting the movie while you unwrapped the blanket.

Before you knew it, Aaron was sitting behind you, pulling you to his chest as he laid down with you on top of him. 

The familiar scene of the cave of wonders rolled over the screen while Aaron laced his fingers in your hair. Scratching it in a soothing motion while your eyes stay glued to the film.

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,�� or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[ptrckjcne]

If you don’t take requests anymore, I’m so sorry and you can just ignore me >.< if it’s still ok to ask, can you please write a comfort piece where Hotch has his nightmares again and tried to push reader away, but reader’s strong love comforts him and grounds him again? I just really want to see Hotch being comforted and feeling loved like he deserves🥺

hii!

thank you for requesting this!! i love being able to write soft hotch, and i love writing hotch being taken care of! i hope you enjoy this! 💞 also, i am most definitely taking requests! so feel free to drop more requests if you have them!

[ also this got quite long, actually! i published on my archive of our own too; it can be found here! ]

masterlist → requests are open!

Insomnia and nightmares were among the things that Aaron had grown the most familiar with as he got older. For a while, he had found his own coping mechanism, the tiled floor of the shower becoming his best friend as he drowned away his internal fears with the water running down, soaking through his hair and his clothes, though he was yet to figure out whether the ice cold or scorching hot water was what worked best. Moving in with Haley had posed a challenge; he had found himself in a situation where he needed to cope with his nightmares, and not worry her. Thankfully, Haley was a heavy sleeper – and Aaron had found new mechanisms. Drowning his fears in the shower, became a cup of coffee and occasionally even a cigarette out on the balcony, basking in the moonlight, his head tilted backwards as his gaze drew up the lines of the constellations in the sky above.

However, as the years progressed, Haley turned out to notice how the bed dipped with his movements, no matter how careful he was, and she would find him. She would sink to her knees on the balcony in front of him, chin resting on his knee as she made him focus on her. He would discard the cigarette, eventually he would change the coffee for decaf, and slowly, but surely he would sleep more, being able to sleep through the entire night again, for the first time in years. Haley would joke about, once his sleep schedule was as good as normal, and had stayed that way for a while, that he was her practice run for becoming a mother. When Jack was born, he returned to sleepless nights, though this time it wasn’t because of nightmares; he would get up in the dark hours of night to soothe the crying baby boy, doing what he could for Haley to catch at least a couple of hours worth of sleep.

Their divorce had triggered something. He wasn’t sure what, but there was something about going home to an empty apartment that triggered what he had gone through before. His apartment wasn’t just empty in terms of him being the only one there, but the lack of personal effects made the place an empty shell of what could possibly be a home, reflecting on how he felt like an empty shell of the man he once had been – of the man he could be. Aaron had been too distracted with work to truly realize how they had slipped back, how he had slipped into his old ‘routine’ as he caught his sleep in the form of fifteen–minute long naps on the couch of his office, avoiding spending time in his apartment unless he absolutely had to.

That was until he met you.

You entered his life like a breath of fresh air, bringing the warmth that came with the first rays of sunshine in the morning, and any other cliché you could possibly think of. Slowly, just a little by little, you watched as his apartment became a home, somewhere he felt comfortable bringing, not just you, but also Jack. From the first time you spent the night with him, to the first night you slept there after moving in with him, you could see how the mattress had gotten worn out, a slight indentation on the side where he slept. He had chuckled at the smile that lit up your face when you noticed; it was so small, yet so significant. It was a sign he felt comfortable within the walls of his own home.

Things were going well when Foyet showed up, leaving a bullet in the wall of your home, the hardwood floors stained with his blood. Emily hadn’t left his side at the hospital – once they had found out where he was – until you got there, being able to take his hand into yours, holding on for dear life. Nine brutal stab wounds; his survival should be considered a miracle, especially considering it was Foyet who stood behind it. The apartment was fixed up when you returned home, Aaron stiff and stitched, his body sore from the medication and brows furrowed as he had expected to see the stain rings on the floor and the hole in the wall; a worry you noticed eased from him when he saw it wasn’t there, neither the stains nor the hole.

He had grumbled something about needing you to remind him to thank whoever or whatever for that, causing you to chuckle a little. Aaron didn’t seem to be aware of how you had already thanked them. The first few nights went okay; you didn’t sleep much, your back against the headboard of the bed, and Aaron sleeping peacefully (or as peaceful as he could be when he was knocked out cold from the medication for his wounds) between your legs, while you made sure he stayed still, leaving his wounds the rest and time they needed to heal. You weren’t convinced it was a good idea when he returned to work, his head still stuck in some sort of void; his son and ex–wife in WITSEC, while he was stuck in his same old routine.

At least he had you.

Derek was the one who reached out to you first, a small text message asking you for a genuine opinion on the mental state you thought Aaron found himself in. Emily was next, though she hadn’t reached out to you until she had spoken to Aaron. David came next, also notifying you that he had instructed the rest of the team not to spam you down with questions about Aaron; he knew you appreciated that the team cared, but he also knew Aaron would notify their behavior, and it was enough for the experienced profiler to deal with his team of agents walking on eggshells around him. The first couple of cases had gone by fairly quickly, you catching up on some much needed sleep while he was away for work, both Emily and David sending you small updates on how he was doing.

It wasn’t until he got home from the second case that you realized how he was struggling. He seemed distant, wrapped up in his own thoughts, but you decided not to bother him; more often than not, this was caused by a rough case. Especially the cases regarding children got to him, and you had long ago learned how to help him cope. This one was different, though. He returned from the case looking like a ghost, shadows cast across his face, tiredness seeping from him like a leaking faucet. You moved closer to him, cupping his cheeks as you pressed a gentle kiss to the spot right between his forehead, releasing a gentle hum at the feeling of his skin against yours. “How was it?”

“Pretty bad.” Aaron mumbled back, not quite having realized how tired he really was. “I hope you haven’t planned a whole thing for us, because I think I might have to just get to bed. It feels as if I haven’t slept the last four years.”

You ran your thumb across his cheekbone, pressing a small kiss to the tip of his nose. “Sweetheart, it’s half past midnight. I gave up the hour of dinner with you when you got back hours ago.” You chuckled, eyes studying his every feature as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your touch against his skin. “How about you go ahead and get ready for bed? I have a couple of things I need to finish up, and then I’ll be right with you.” Your words were in a low, gentle tone – the kind of tone you knew he needed, especially after a long and rough case. 

“Alright.” He nodded, moving out of your embrace to head towards your bedroom, leaving you in the dimly lit living room to finish your tidying. It didn’t take you long, but Aaron was already knocked out cold when you reached the bedroom, cover tucked tightly around him, his head buried deep within his soft pillow. You smiled a little at the sight, using as little time as possible to get ready for bed yourself.

It was when you slipped under the covers you noticed it, the slight, barely audible whimpers passing his lips. You furrowed your brows, reaching out a hand to run through his hair, a gentle move you knew he would love – though it was far from it this time. His eyes shot up, accompanied with a panicked look as he pushed himself away from you, heaving for breath. “I–,” he swallowed hard, barely catching himself as he stumbled off the bed. “You need to get away from me, I can’t do this. My brother, Haley, Jack – everywhere I go, disaster follows. It’s only a matter of time before it affects you too.”

Aaron’s voice rung with a panic you had never before heard from him, something that caused worry to build from deep within your gut – though you decided you needed to keep it together for him. For Aaron. “Aaron, it’s okay, you’re safe – I’m safe.” You started, shoving yourself across the bed, feeling the warmth from where he had been sleeping on the mattress underneath your palm. “Look at me, Aaron – I’m safe, I’m all good.” He had sunken to his knees on the floor, the soft flannel fabric of his pants sliding against the floor, the gray fabric of his t–shirt damp with sweat. Sinking down in front of him, you reached out for his hand, noticing how he flinched out of your reach.

“Please, I’m begging you.” He cried, not even seeming aware of how tears were rolling down his cheeks. “Just go, please – go.”

“Aaron.” You said, a little more sternly this time, not caring for his flinch as you took his hand in yours, pressing it to your chest, letting him feel your heartbeat against his palm. “Aaron, look at me – I’m all good. I’m here with you, how could I not be okay?” You continued, your tone gentle as he lifted his gaze, furrowing his brows a little as he saw his hand against your chest. It was real, he could feel your heart beating – you were safe, alive, within his reach. You lifted your other hand to cup his cheek, using your thumb to wipe away his tears. “I love you, Aaron.”

He wanted to say it back, but he couldn’t muster the energy to utter the words. It didn’t matter, though; you knew he loved you, something he got confirmed as you leaned across, pressing your lips against his. He didn’t want to talk about it. You knew that, you weren’t going to force him either. If he was ready to open up about it, he would – he trusted you enough to open up when he felt for it, and he trusted you enough not to push for him to open up about it.

“Come on, sweetheart.” You whispered, getting up on your feet before helping him, his body still stiff from panic, though he was easing up at your touch. He let you tuck him in, his head pressed to your chest where he could listen to your heartbeat, his arms around your middle to hold you close. You had one hand in his, fingers intertwined, and the other in his hair, running your fingers through it, and letting your nails scratch lightly against his scalp. “You can sleep, my love. I’ll never leave you.”

He hummed contently, nuzzling closer as he settled for sleep – and just before he drowsed off, you heard the three words mumbled out, his tired brain finally just uttering the words for him. “I love you too; I hope you know that.”

[whump-town]

The Traveling T-Shirt

No Pairings

No Warnings

It's just Morgan's t-shirt traveling through the BAU one person and story at a time

It starts with a coffee spill in Seattle. With Aaron, startlingly enough.

Six days in the rain and it seemed even their cleanest, driest clothing was damp with the chill from the constant downpour. Though, six days on their feet with clothing they’d already worn at least twice that week on their backs, they looked more and more “rag-tag” as the hours bore on. Even Hotch had lost his cookie-cutter charm. His white t-shirt crumpled where it was typically pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair wouldn’t stay gelled into the style he liked it in, leaving it fluffy and soft on the top of his head. He looked significantly less like SSA Aaron Hotchner and a lot more like Aaron.

Maybe he had lost SSA Hotchner somewhere along the days and victims because SSA Hotchner would never spill coffee on himself. But Aaron would and Aaron did.

Derek watched the whole thing take place, unable to take his eyes off of Hotch since the second that he walked in. Something about his tired zombie-like lurches just couldn’t break Derek’s curiosity and he had to know what would come out of Hotch’s current state. Despite the far-away look in Hotch’s gaze, the tired bags of discoloration under his eyes, Derek would not have predicted this as the outcome. Hotch is so out of it that all he can do is stare at the mess he’s created, glaring at the mess of coffee grounds across his less than pristine white dress shirt.

“Here,” Derek shakes his head, has to manually clear the fog occupying his brain. He pulls at the loose clump of napkins someone had left atop the coffee table for this exact situation, presses the mass into Hotch’s stomach. It feels akin to something else, distinctly deja-vu. Like he’s pressing into a wound, holding him together with nothing more than cheap napkins.

The physical contact brings Hotch back to the Earth and with a few blinks of his blood-shot eyes he sighs irritably and mumbles, “I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Derek would argue the one he’s currently wearing is not clean either. It’s got a few dots of red expo marker on the left elbow where Reid bumped into him, rambling quickly about his map and the geographical profile. On the cuff of his right sleeve, there’s something brown or black which could be something from a pen or an expo marker or something else he’s just stuck his hand in. God knows what else is on this shirt.

Hotch puts his hand over Derek’s, holds the napkins himself. Derek pats his shoulder, “it’s alright, man. I’ll get you a shirt.”

They could go just about anywhere and just buy him a shirt. It could be some looney graphic t-shirt from the boy’s sections of some store down the street or another white dress shirt to replace the one he’s wearing but Derek just gets one of his. It’s a light grey, the color worn down by how frequently Derek wears it. Where it fits Derek snugly, hugs his chest and back tightly, it fits Hotch oddly. Displays to them all just how right they were in the assumptions they have held about how his recent divorce is affecting him.

He’s lost weight.

Too much.

One thin grey Hanes t-shirt can’t fight off the chill and overtop it, covering his visible bones, Dave throws him a sweater. He stays buried in that sweater and shirt all day, long into the night as they go hunting out in the streets with flashlights. Rain comes down heavy and thick.

Dave gets his sweater back. Folded neatly and smelling of the distinct fabric softener Hotch uses, it makes his whole office smell nice and Dave nearly can’t bring himself to wear the thing again. Doesn’t want the scent to fade, every inch of that sweater is now stitched together with something more.

The t-shirt gets left at the bottom of a drawer, to be discovered months from now.

Emily finds it six nights after Foyet left Hotch in Saint Sebastion’s hospital held together by sugrical staples and the stubborn will to live. All of his clothing has been hunted through, his shirt drawer is nearly empty. JJ and Penelope had undertaken the job of finding Hotch clothing for the hospital -- anything that he could just slip his arms into without having to lift them above his head. The only things left in his drawers are regular t-shirts and jeans, meaning Emily doesn’t have a whole lot to pick through right now.

She hadn’t anticipated this need and as much forethought as she put into staying the night was assuming Hotch would have clothes she could steal. She hadn’t really thought she’d be here tonight but she doesn’t think she can leave him alone. Doesn’t think it would be kind of her as his friend to see him like this and still choose to leave him for the night.

She decides on a thin grey shirt that she finds, turning her nose up to his university t-shirts (as if she’d wear those) and a pair of sweat pants on his floor that she thinks are clean or at least don’t smell bad. It’s not the best but she came unprepared and she’s not going to complain, both are comfortable even if the pants are giant on her.

To her surprise, he’s still fighting off his meds. Hazy brown eyes blink open when she steps back out into the living room, following her as she comes to the couch. She’s careful, even if she does it nonchalantly, as she moves his legs a little so that she can sit down beside him. He’s stretched across the couch, too big so he’s pinched up in places, but he doesn’t want to sleep in his room. Stubborn like a child being asked to take a nap -- “but I’m not tired”.

“T’as not my shirt,” he mumbles into his blanket. He’s got the heating blanket pulled up his nose, wrapped tightly around his shoulders and hands.

Emily looks down at it and frowns. “Well, then who the hell else’s is it?” She reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table, turning it on without waiting for his answer. Clearly, she doesn’t care who’s it is, she’s not taking it off now. His grunt, muffled by the blanket, means he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care enough either to figure out who it is.

He doesn’t last much longer, falls asleep with her squishing him on the couch (though, arguably, he’s squishing her). She’ll brush off his timid embarrassment at having to need her around the next morning, for waking up in the middle of the night having to be held down. Sobbing incoherently about something, neither of them really sure what. Only calming down when she put his head in her lap, stroking his hair back until he fell back asleep. Which is how he wakes up, his head in her lap and his hand holding her’s hostage.

But she shrugs it off and says she only did it for the free shirt, “don’t worry about it.”

She keeps the shirt, uses it several more nights as they graduate from sleeping on the couch to him finally going back to his bed. To being mentally present enough again to fight her about taking meds, to walking her to the front door every night, and watching her leave.

She buries the shirt too. It feels too tight on her skin, wrong. She touches the material and remembers seeing him hysterical, writhing in pain, and unable to be comforted. Can smell the antiseptic from his skin. Can hear the doctor warning her about his heart. That shirt feels like losing her best friend but she can’t bring herself to get rid of it.

JJ uncovers it a year later (before Emily has done the unspeakable, the unimaginable, and died and come back to life). It’s a girls night gone wrong but not impossibly so.

“Just grab one of my shirts,” Emily says, still laughing.

JJ glares back at her. She’s covered in water from the sink -- Emily sprayed her with the faucet. It’s revenge, payback for the pasta sauce JJ swiped down her cheek.

“You two are devious,” Penelope insists, waving her fingers at them. She’s still chopping up mushrooms, trying to size them as best as she can so that they are spread evenly throughout the alfredo sauce. “Behave before you ruin the sauce and I have to tell Dave that I not only shared his recipe but that you two ruined it.”

JJ has to search for a shirt from Emily’s pajama drawer. She doesn’t want any of the old college shirts and certainly doesn’t want any of the dopey graphic t-shirts Emily is so partial to. She ends up on a grey shirt, worn and old and soft.

Emily knows the shirt the second the JJ comes out and it takes her a moment to hide and stifle the anxiety that its presence gives her. Hotch’s health is better, he’s got a routine down with the medication he’ll be taking for the rest of his life because of that attack, but he’s smiling again. It’s harder than it was before to win one out of him but he can do it, they happen.

“Which one-night stand is this?” JJ asks, plucking the shirt with her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

Emily shakes her head, clears her throat of the residual guilt, and smirks, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” Hotch would be mortified at the insinuation but it’s funny and what he doesn’t know (and what they don’t know) can’t hurt him. She’s sad to see the shirt go, it’s a door closed, but relieved of its burden she can breathe again. Feels Foyet leave her completely.

JJ goes unburdened.

That old shirt is a comfort. She nurses Henry through fevers in it. Uses its edge to wipe his tears from his face. It’s always at the top of her laundry basket, the first thing she puts on when she gets home from a rough case. Will isn’t sure where she got it from because he knows it’s not his. It’s not the first time JJ’s stolen someone else’s clothes (he’s picked up enough of them to know that Reid wears a size small, that dark shirts sized medium are Morgan, and that white t-shirts in a medium are Hotch’s). He thinks it’s cute, she’s been stealing his shirts for as long as he’s known her.

In October, the fall of the same year that Emily leaves for Interpol, JJ gets held up in a meeting with Hotch. Something to do the with Department of Justice and all she manages to get out over the phone is that she’s absolutely pissed and Reid can just faintly hear Hotch offering her a coffee before she thanks him and the line goes dead. Will is on night shift and he can’t come home. So Reid fills in, their impromptu babysitter for the night.

It’s fine, calm… for the most part.

Reid lasts about an hour and a half before he finds himself in need of a change of clothes. He’s got pumpkin all over him and his fun little idea to let Henry carve a baby pumpkin was obviously a bad idea. He just didn’t know that in advance. He’s watched Jack enough times to feel fully confident in his skills but the age gap between Henry and Jack is severe. There are a lot of developmental differences in children only two years apart in age, Reid was not prepared for that.

He feels weird about stealing a shirt but his own is soaked in pumpkin guts and Henry’s bathwater.

JJ doesn’t notice the shirt exchange. She just grins at the sight of Spencer and Henry curled up on the couch, Will sitting beside them eating popcorn while “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” plays softly.

Three days later Morgan sees his shirt on the back of the couch. It’s been washed and is waiting to be returned to JJ but he knows damn well that it’s his. “How the hell did you find this?” Morgan asks, lifting it up. Reid had called him over to fix a leaking pipe (Reid is supposed to call his Super who has a mechanic who can do it but he’s too anxious for that) and Morgan was less than prepared to find his missing shirt.

Reid frowns, confused, “that’s JJ’s. I borrowed it Thursday night when I babysat.”

Morgan shakes his head, no this is his shirt. He’s sure of it. It’s been gone for years. He thought the washing machine ate it. He couldn't remember where else it would have gone off to. That or he left it in some hotel but here it is. Grey and worn and soft, it’s his.

He takes it to work in his go-bag and all but rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he watches Garcia stumble and drench herself in cold, left-over tea. He stands from his desk, sighing hard, “it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.”

He’s never getting this shirt back.