#aaron hotchner ficlet

[ravawrites]

Invaluable

THIS IS UNIMPORTANT PART 2!!!!!!!

summary: your boss finally realises what you mean, and how he feels. warnings: smoking, drinking, sexual situations (not smut!) a/n: this is based on that time aaron SNATCHES that cigarette out of the unsubs mouth and it’s hot. If you want a smut part please comment or leave a thing in my inbox. love ya <3

wordcount: 4687

The next few weeks nothing had changed between you and your boss since his confession of you being important to the team. But at the same time, everything had. He had become less dismissive once you handed him the usual bitter black coffee he gets. Instead of the usual “Thank You,” just thrown your way without a sparing glance.

Now, you were still thanked. However, he turned his head towards you, making eye contact for a slightly lingering moment before continuing on with the case and turning back to the drawing board. It was pity, you assumed. Pity for the fact that you had almost been shot and killed in a police precinct bathroom.

Another small change was the way he asked for things. He had went from harshly barking orders at you to have papers ready, collect that box of files, prep the interrogation room. To coming up to you directly, asking you quietly and politely.

On the other hand, something completely different, never happened before, your boss, Aaron Hotchner had brought you a coffee on the jet. Albeit, the rest of the team were passed out in a deep sleep. Em had her head rested on JJ’s shoulder as they slept together. Spencer had a book over his face and Morgan had his music playing in his ears.

“You’re not sleeping?” He asked as he bent down to place the coffee on the small table in-front of you. Lifting it up you take a scalding sip from the mug. Boiling hot, burning your tongue but exactly how you liked it.

“How do you know which way I like my coffee?” You ask, the shock evident in your tone and get given pointed look because the answer to that was obvious. “I can’t sleep when something is moving, car, train, private jet.” Your mouth quirks up at the last one. You see him nod in understanding and he makes his way back to his seat and to bury his nose back into the files. “Thank you.” You whisper out loud enough for him to hear but not enough to wake the team.

The rest of the flight back to Quantico was peaceful. Silence after a long and hard case was always welcome, the calm after the storm.

-

Silky sheets caress your legs as the loud blaring of your alarm rings in your ears. The orange beginnings of daylight peek through a small gap through the curtains. Rolling over, the blue light from your phone glares in your eyes. New email. Meeting at 8:30. Urgent.

One thing you hated about your boss was his inability to elaborate when things were important. Rushing to get ready and throwing your work clothes on as fast as possible, your mind races. Skimming over every mistake you had made in the past few months that could lead to you getting fired. Or anything the rest of the team could have done to prompt an urgent meeting.

Arriving at the office the rest of the team stand in the bullpen, equally confused.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Emily asks you as you join the huddle at her desk.

“No idea.” You reply with a shrug and the six of you turn to look up into Hotch’s office. He has the landline up to his ear and seems to be talking intensely to the person on the other end. “What do you think that’s about?”

“No idea.” Spencer echoes your words from earlier. “He doesn’t look happy though.”

Then without a word Hotch opens his office door and with no more than a nod, orders you to the conference room. It wasn’t unusual for him to look that way. Stoic, serious and unmoving.

“We’re all fired.” Pen squeaked out with a determined nod. She then marched up to the conference room, the rest of you following in her stead.

The conference room was not a stranger to long intense silence. It usually happened when one of the team had made a mistake that Strauss wouldn’t let go. Usually a mistake that your unit chief’s job was put on the line for. Hotch is sitting when you enter.

“Have we got a case?” Derek asks with a nod to the remote in Hotch’s hand. The screen behind him lit up and he stood up.

“Not exactly.” A look of disgust was commonly shared around the circular table at hearing about the heinous crimes that the team solved regularly. However, a look of panic, was rare and was prominent at what Hotch said next. “We have been invited to the FBI christmas gala.” Groans and eye rolls were shared around the table.

“We are on orders from Strauss to not take any new cases until after the event,” He continued, “As we are most likely going to revive an award.”

“When is it?” JJ asks, her chin in her hands and her hair falls over her face.

“Next Friday. We all get a plus one.” Hotch finishes and gets up, striding out of the conference room and back to his office to stare at more files until late in the evening.

“You know what this means ladies.” Penelope starts, her body pretty much vibrating with excitement. “Dress shopping!” The huge smile on her face made everything more bearable. At least one of you was excited.

-

A few days later the girls and you were standing in some high-end boutique, browsing the multiple colours of dresses. Racks upon racks of different cuts, shapes and lengths are everywhere. Penelope was rushing through them at a speed you'd never seen, picking out what she thought would look best on the three of you.

"Em, you just have to wear red!" She gushes and hands Emily a stack of different shades of red. "Go try them on." Pen gives her a shove toward the fitting rooms. "Same for you." She says to JJ, her pile filled with a variety of blues, pinks and purples.

They both come out one at a time, showing you and Pen all of the dresses she had specifically picked out. Naturally, Pen loved every single one they came out in, smiling every time. Until they both came out at the same time and she let out a dramatic gasp.

Emily was wearing a deep red velvet dress that came down to her ankles and was tight-fitted down her body. JJ's was light pink with light lace flowers all over in lace. It flared out from her hips and draped over her legs. "Those. Are. Perfect." She squealed at the pair as they both did a spin. They both blushed at your and Pen's extensive compliments about how well the dresses fit them.

"You guys look amazing!" You say from your seat and Emily's look turns from appreciative to mischievous.

"Now it's your turn," Emily smirks and she and JJ take their place on the plush bench that you and Pen were just perched on. JJ hands you the pile of perfectly curated dresses Penelope had picked out for you, in many different colours. You pick out all of the colourful ones and leave them on the bench. You catch the girls confused looks.

"While a gala is a break for you, I'm still on the clock." You explain and shake the black dresses in your hands. "I have a dress code, black only." You watch Penelope's face drop.

"But, that green one would look so good." She says, obviously disappointed you wouldn't get to wear the one she had envisioned you in. "Try it on for me?" She asks and gives you a look you couldn't resist.

"After, I find my one for the night." You put emphasis on after as your friend was not one for patience.

A few dresses later, varying reactions from the girls as you came out. Some 'oohs' and 'ehhs' gave you a clear opinion of what they thought. Penelope had found her dress almost instantly, it was a silky champagne with black lace over the bust. Finally, you had thought you had found the one. It was black, of course, and didn't come down too low at the bust, stopping just before inappropriate. The fabric stopped at the floor and didn't restrict your walking movement.

"Oh, that's lovely," JJ says as you pull the curtain back to reveal yourself to them.

"That is the one!" Penelope jumps up and gives you a hug.

"I think I'm all dressed out." Emily slumps against the wall as you make your way to get changed back into your normal clothes and bag up your dress of choice.

Making your way to the till, you all pay for your dresses and head your separate ways home.

-

The fateful day had finally come. Hours upon hours of explaining that you are not a profiler to a part of the BAU team but their PA. Then having to listen for hours upon hours on why the BAU was favoured by the director as they had a private jet and a PA. Looking good was crucial if you were a benefit, you had better be a good-looking one.

If the dress had to be black and plain with a simple shape and a boring unappealing neckline. You'd dress it up with dainty jewellery and amazingly high heels in a matching black. You had turned a simple dress that was gathering dust in the back of the racks into a sublime sleek look. The ding from your phone catch’s your attention as you grab your clutch.

It read ‘We’re outside’ and quickly you smooth down your hair one last time and make your way out of the apartment building, seeing the girls waiting in one of the SUV’s for you. Emily at the wheel with Jj in the passenger seat and Penelope in the back.

“You look stunning!” Penelope shouts from the window as you walk towards the car and you can’t help but produce a huge smile on your face.

“So do all of you.” You say as you shut the car door behind you. The drive to the venue wasn’t long, small talk being the main focus of the conversation.

“Are any of you looking for a man tonight?” Jj asks, a smirk on her face. She had brought Will as her plus one and he was currently residing in the men’s car who were trailing not too far behind them. “Or woman.” She adds, casting a small glance at Em.

“If something happens, it happens.” Emily says with a shrug, knowing that she would be approached many a time during the night.

“I’m fine with my chocolate thunder.” Pen says, her face lighting up. “But you never know.” A few hums of agreement echo around the car. “And what about you, beautiful creature of the night?” Penelope asks.

“I’m working.” It was a short answer but you didn’t miss the simultaneous eye rolls of the three others. “What was that?” You ask with a scoff, looking between the three of them.

“Oh yes. ‘Working’” Pen says, “Until you go out for a smoke.” She smirks as she says this.

“You’re just jealous it works.” You snark back, as you pull up the the grand hotel that the gala was being held in. “I am now officially on the clock.” You say, getting out of the car and opening the doors for all of the girls. At the same moment the men’s car pulls up behind you. You do the same for each of them. Each of them thank you as you open their car doors.

“I hate treating you like this, you’re our friend not our employee.” Spencer complains as you walk in on his arm. “It feels strange.”

“It’s one night. And technically I am, your employee.” You smile up at him. “Your assistant.” The room you were in was huge, the carpet was a deep red plush, the cushions on the chairs matching. The ceilings held up by marble stone pillars that towered over everyone.

You and the BAU find their way to their large circular table in the middle of the room. Not a single corner of solitude where they could not be observed by the rest of the FBI. They place their, clutches and Jackets on the table and you turn to them.

“Drinks?” You ask looking around the table.

“You don’t have to.” Derek starts but you cut him off with a hand wave.

“I am being paid.” You say sternly, “Drinks?” You ask with a stubborn tone. “The usual?” You continue and receive nods from around the table. Making your way to the bar you rattle off the teams orders. “A whisky on the rocks, a neat whisky, two glasses of house red, a glass of house white, two jack and cokes and a lemonade. Please.” You receive a nod and wait for the poor bartender the make all of those drinks. “Oh and a tray please!”

You weren’t a stranger to the looks of envy from other departments as you carried the tray of drinks to the table. Or from the patrons stood at the bar fetching their own drinks.

“I come bearing gifts.” You say and hand out their drinks accordingly around the table. Whiskey on the rocks for Rossi. Near whiskey for Hotch. House red for Jj and Emily. House white for Pen. Jack and coke for Derek and Will and a lemonade for Spencer. “Now go socialise, you important people.” You say and they disperse around the room in pairs to go and talk to the other agents. That was your queue was to go and stand in the corner of the room as all of the people who thought better of themselves, boasted about their achievements in the field and out of it.

It took thirty minutes until it was announced it was time for dinner and all of the patrons made their way to the assigned seats. Wait staff flew out of every door, brining everyone the meal they had chosen a week prior. And that was your cue to go for a smoke.

It was dark outside when you push the door open. The pebbled ground crunches under your heels as you make your way to the back of the building and there is your solace. A bench. It was wooden and was sat in the middle of a small green patch of grass.

These FBI things had been few and far between with your with the BAU. The team rather spending their time on cases and saving people’s lives rather than spending time being paraded around by the director. However, that had meant that in the couple times you had been at these things, you had a tradition.

Men loved being saviours. So when they see a poor woman, sat in the cold, waiting for her cigarette to be lit. But in reality, you had a lighter placed in your bra. Dinner had just started so you pull out said lighter and light your first cigarette and take a drag. The smoke flaying out in-front of you in the light as you sit on the table of the bench, your feet on the seat.

-

The team sat around their round table, slowly eating and sipping on their drinks, longing out the process to avoid the socialising that was to come again next.

“It’s just not fair how she doesn’t even get a seat at our table,” Spencer huffs as he puts another forkful into his mouth. “The team would barely work without her. She’s a part of the team.” Everyone around the table nods in agreement.

“If it was up to me, she would.” Hotch says, also continuing to eat his food and sip his drink.

“Well you could push harder for it.” Spencer says, his mood sour and he fiddles his fork around his plate as he mumbles.

“Don’t worry Spence.” Emily said from next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “She’s just fine.” She says smirking at Jj and Penelope from across the table.

“Pump your brakes, what does that mean?” Derek says with raised eyebrows looking between the three of them. “Is she with someone here?” His eyes flit between them and waits impatiently for one of them to answer.

“Not yet.” Jj barley whispers into her wine.

“And what does that mean?” Derek pushes again and looks towards Penelope. “Babygirl, what do you know?” He asks leaning towards her and she hides behind her hands. “Penelope.” Everyone around the table was interested in what the ladies of the BAU knew about your love life.

One thing about the team was they were nosy. Specially about the love lives of the other members of the team. Behavioural analysis made it easy for them to tell when a night was spent out of bed.

“I’m not supposed to tell.” Pen squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual, feeling the pressure of all of the curious eyes on her. But her reddening face and the pitch in her voice getting higher and higher indicates that she was going to spill and soon. Even Hotch was engaged and listening. And spill she did. “Hot rich men carry lighters.”

“And what does that have to do with sleeping with other agents?” Rossi chimes in, his hand resting around his glass and his finger tapping against the side.

“When time comes to dinner and she doesn’t get a seat at the table, she makes her way outside with two cigarettes,” Emily starts to explain. “She lights and smokes the first one while dinner is happening.”

“Then after dinner, she waits for someone to come and offer to light her second cigarette.” Jj picks up from Emily. “It’s actually quite smart.” She smiles as she finishes.

“Then they get to talking then she’s got somewhere to sleep for the night.” Penelope finishes. “The FBI is so cheap, they don’t even book her a room.” She rolls her eyes and takes another sip, clearly getting tipsy. “She never tells us who she’s been with, i’m dying to know.”

“Who would have thought she had it in her huh?” Derek says with an impressed smile.

“Literally all of us.” Emily laughs at him and wait staff begin to collect in empty plates and people begin to stand and shuffle and talk about boring corporate nonsense.

They watch Hotch get up abruptly from his chair and stride toward the bar, he doesn’t order anything he just stands there and waits for the team to disperse around the room.

“He’s not as subtle as he thinks.” Will laughs out towards Rossi who gives a small shrug before turning around and shaking the hands of agents from all over the US.

-

The shine of your shoes caught your attention, the patent dark material reflecting in the light. Circular rings dance across them and reflect in your eyes. Your first cigarette had long been smoked and shoved into the stones beneath your feet. You’d began to wonder if you just hadn’t gotten lucky this time round. Maybe you hadn’t grabbed the attention enough for anyone to follow you outside. Your eyes hadn’t left the ground yet, and were now tracing the irregular pattern of the stones. Just about to give in to the temptation and time, reaching into your bra to pull out your lighter.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Your head shoots up and your hand goes heck to its original position by your side. It was him, your boss. Aaron Hotchner,one of the richest and hottest men you knew. You hadn’t heard the stones rustle on the way over, he always walked quietly. His voice didn’t travel far in the large empty space.

“I thought you were meant to be a profiler, sir.” You say smiling up at him and scooting over, making room for him next to you. “Get tired of all the questions?” He sits down, mirroring the way you were perched.

“I’ve already told you.” He says, the lights that were wrapped around the leaf filled arch lit up his face in such a perfect way, you couldn’t describe it. “It’s Aaron.” He repeats from weeks ago and you see him turn towards you out of the corner of your eye. Now, it was time to test if your theory was correct.

“Ok. Aaron.” You put specific emphasis on his name with a laugh and you look over to him. “Do you have a lighter?” His eyes meet yours.

“You shouldn’t smoke, they’re bad for your health.” He says avoiding the question, maybe you were wrong. “But I do. There.” He pulls it out of the inside pocket. It was fancy, silver with an engraved pattern with his name next to it.

“This is a fancy lighter.” You comment as the orange flame shines on your face. Pulling the cigarette to your mouth you take a drag. “Lots of things are bad for your health.” Your hand passes the imaginary line between you and you hold the cigarette in front of him and you raise your eyebrow in question.

“Thanks.” He takes it from your hand and pulls it up to his face but pauses. He stares at the deep red circle around the paper. “It was a gift from Rossi, he just likes to spend his money.”

“That he does,” You smile at him and notice his hesitation. “It’s just lipstick.” Resting your elbows on your legs you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulders. “It’s safer than shaking hands or whatever Spencer says when he meets someone new.” You joke. He laughs deeply at that and finally takes a puff of the cigarette.

His face contorts in slight disgust. “Those don’t taste like I remember.” But he keeps it in his hand.

“That’s because they were incredibly cheap.” Giggling, you realise you are still holding his lighter in your hands and it shining in the light.

“So you won’t mind then?” He asks and you look towards him confused.

“Mind what?” You reply, the line between your eyebrows prominent.

“This.” He smirks and throws the cigarette on the ground and stamps it out. You make a noise of protest as you watch the small orange glow disappear.

“I’m in a right mind to keep this lighter now.” Looking down into your lap shyly where your hands lay. Fiddling and flipping open the lighter. He made you nervous, usually you were able to take charge of these men and lure them to bed without a word. However, this man, your boss, was terrifying to you as he sat there breathing steadily, while your heart raced erratically.

“You’re welcome to.” He says with a shrug and brings his hand up to adjust his tie.

“It’s beautiful out here, it looks like a wedding venue.” You were deflecting and refuse to even look in the man’s direction.

“It is.” His answers were getting shorter and shorter and your heart was getting faster and faster.

Adrenaline ran through your veins as the next words flew out of your mouth before you could spare a second to think about it. “Do you know the FBI don’t even pay for my room at these things?”

“Really? I’ll look into it.” He says and taps the side of his head and keeping it in there for later.

“Thank you.” The two of you sit in silence for a while, breathing in the fresh air and looking around the grand garden and taking note of the potted plants dotted around the place. The night was clear and the stars were out, looking close to the small fairy lights that surrounded the pair of you.

“You’re part of the team, just as much as me or anyone. They should get you a room.” He says, his pinky finger inching across to yours, laying millimetres away.

“You’re the Unit chief and they’re agents.” You laugh. “I’m just an assistant.” You continue. “I’m not-.” You realise you go to say important and your mind flies back to your conversation in the parking lot.

“Important?” He sighs and you turn towards him and he says your name in the same airy voice. His tone suddenly changes back to his normal firm one. “You know what?” He asks and you raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re not important.” He states.

Your face morphs into confusion. “What?” You scoff at him and you lean back, also pulling your hand away from the closeness of before. You stand up abruptly and start to quickly walk away from the bench, grabbing the bottom of your dress up and keeping it away from your heels.

He says your name again but this time it’s a shout. “Wait!” He shouts again and you spin around and shake your head at him.

“What! Sir!” You shout at him harshly and take a step towards him in anger.

“You’re not important because.” He starts and you roll your eyes and he takes a step towards you and the gap gets smaller and smaller. Your breath getting shorter and shorter.

“Because what?!” You shout again and wave your arms around in emphasis.

“Because.” He says your name softer this time. “You’re invaluable.” Your mouth hangs open and all of your air leaves your lungs and you stand there for a moment. Your boss had rendered you speechless once again. Staring at him with his perfectly tailored suit and that sexy fucking red tie and just his sexy fucking face. “You’re invaluable to me.”

Dropping your clutch on the floor you quickly walk at him, trying not to trip in your heels on the uneven ground. “You stupid, stupid man.” You say and the two of you hover close to one another. “Aaron Hotchner, you massive idiot!” You gasp at him and grab his tie and pull him down to you and kiss him.

It was quick and rough and you pull away after a few seconds. “Shit, you’re my boss! Fuck!” You exclaim and look up panicked, running your hands through your hair and take a large step back. Your chest heaves, as you look him in the eyes. “I’m invaluable to you.” You say dumbly and blink quickly in more confusion than before.

“Yes, you are.” He says and takes a large step forwards, putting you toe to toe. His hands run up the tops of your thighs and over your hips and land in the small of your waist. “Say my name again.” His nose runs up your neck towards your ear.

The realisation hits you then. “I’m invaluable to you, Aaron.” You say smugly and he leans into kiss you this time and he hums in agreement inside your mouth. You’re pressed up against him as his large hands on your waist have you pulled against him.

You’re own hands start to wander as his tongue enters your mouth, they slide their way up the back of this suit and into the nape of this neck and the top of his hair. “I’ve waited so long to do that.” He sighs as the two of you separated for breath.

“Me too.” You smile as the two of you hold each other. “Your room?” You ask and intertwine your hand with his.

“Definitely.” He says and you begin to walk to the back door of the hotel, you leading the way.

“I’m your invaluable assistant.” You smirk at him as you open the back fire exit door. You felt smug being invaluable to the man. The man you’d had a crush on since you’d joined the BAU.

“Yes, you are.” He repeats and reaches down to give your arse a squeeze, in your tight dress.

“Oi!” You reach down and smack his hand away with a laugh. “Just for that, you’re going up the stairs first.” You say and push him towards the staircase.

“I’ll have you know my eyes are always front.” He says and starts to walk up the steps to his room, key card already in hand.

“Mine aren’t.” Your eyes and centred directly on his arse as he walks up the stairs to his room.

[jareaulover]

Rejection (Hotchreid)

A/N: I really liked this prompt, I've been wanting to write something with unrequited feelings for a while and I thought this was a good chance. Thank you to @nico5580 for the prompt!! <3 It's pretty short, but that's alright.

Full story below cut, or read on AO3

Word count: 865

“Reid, when you finish your case report Hotch wants to see you in his office.” JJ said as she passed his desk on the way back to her office. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. What could Hotch want to talk to him about? His performance had been perfect as of late, and he’d completely kicked his dilaudid habit, and he’d been regularly attending AA meetings. So what else was there?

Spencer finished writing his case report fairly quickly and made his way to his supervisor’s office. He felt his heartbeat speed up as he approached the door, his palms started sweating and he had to remind himself to breathe normally. This wasn’t too atypical, though. He’d developed feelings for the older man quite some time ago. And he liked to think that he hid it pretty well. Growing up in an emotionally unstable environment with no one to really confide in had made it easy for him to keep things in.

But, of course, that was to the untrained eye. And Spencer spent most of his time around extremely well trained eyes…

He knocked on the wooden door twice, and then waited. It only took a moment for Hotch’s voice to come through the door, “Come in.” He said, and Spencer obeyed. He opened the door and entered the man’s office. He quickly took a seat in one of the chairs across from Aaron’s desk. He rested one hand on each knee and looked at Hotch expectantly.

Aaron looked at him for a few seconds, almost like he was studying him. His eyes were narrowed, as they usually were, and trained on Spencer. The younger man felt himself begin to sweat under the gaze of his boss.

“What, um,” Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “What did you want to talk about?” He asked, carefully. He inwardly celebrated the fact that he had kept his voice so even. This was Hotch, there was no need for Spencer to be so nervous.

“Recently it has come to my attention that you may be harboring certain feelings for a member of this team.” Hotch started, speaking in that overly professional voice of his. Spencer took in a sharp breath, averting his eyes from the man in front of him. His heartbeat was speeding up again, and he was starting to feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh…” He said, lamely. He wasn’t sure how to respond. What had Hotch said again? ‘A certain member of this team’ so maybe… Maybe he didn’t know that it was him. Hotchner continued talking.

“I’ve known for a while, though, Spencer. Even before Derek mentioned it…” His boss admitted, “I’d had my suspicions, but he confirmed it.” Spencer was mentally cursing his coworker/friend. It wasn’t like he had told Derek, but the man was a great profiler and had known Spencer for a long time.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” Spencer said, quietly. He kept his eyes trained down on the carpet, studying the dark material like it would give him all of the answers that he would need.

Things were quiet for a minute, neither man was sure what to say. Aaron broke the silence with a sigh.

“Reid, listen…” He started. Spencer’s heart stung from the rejection that he knew was coming, “I think that its relatively normal to develop certain feelings for someone in a place of authority over you. But it’s just… It’s not something that can work out. Do you understand?” He asked. Spencer bit his lip.

“Um, yes. I-I understand.” Spencer said, barely above a whisper. He didn’t trust his voice, if he spoke any louder he was afraid that he would cry.

“I’m really sorry, Spencer. Is there anything I can do…?” He started to offer, but Spencer shot up from his seat and headed for the door, “Reid-”

“It’s alright, Hotch. Good talk. Um, I’m fine, I’m-” He pursed his lips and pushed through the door, walking out into the bullpen. He quickly gathered his things and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. It was late, anyway, and he needed to be getting home.

“Reid!” He heard Aaron call from the doorway of his office, but he was already halfway to the elevator by then. He pressed the down button, 5 times in quick succession before the doors finally opened and he stepped in. He could hear Aaron’s footsteps approaching the elevator, but the doors close before he go there. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief as the machine began moving down.

The commute home was normal, and once he was in his apartment, he finally let the tears fall. He had known it was stupid as soon as he realized that the feelings he held for Hotch were more than what he held for the other members of his team. Spencer only wished he had been better at hiding the feelings…

He finally got to sleep around 3 am, but at 3:45 his phone went off.

Spencer lifted the device and stared at the text on his screen.

Hotchner: We’ve got a case.

Spencer sighed and got out of bed. This was going to be a long one…

[masterwords]

short time

This isn't really a story, it's just a fun little Hotch/Will ficlet because sometimes my brain says WRITE THIS QUICKLY and I have to. I'm working on a couple of nice, longer ones but this is quick and dirty and...yeah.

It's not much. Just a re-write of the "Hit/Run" bomb attached to Will situation but with Hotch instead of Emily. (For simplicity sake, so I don't have to write a huge backstory for this tiny little thing - Hotch & Will are in an established relationship and this does not involve JJ in any way. Don't try to complicate things. It's just some tasty hotmontagne brain soup.) The title is just a funny little nod to what my husband and all the wrestling coaches yell at the kids in matches when they're down to the last few seconds and they need to try and go crazy and get a point out of desperation.

Words: 1.4k

**

Hotch instructs Emily and Reid to go to the left, he goes to the right. Up the stairs to the Mezzanine, around the barricade. His feet fall light on the marble floor, he hushes his breath. Everything feels surreal. This is just a movie scene, and the music has dropped out, just the sound of his heavy breathing. Any minute now the Director will yell CUT! and people will swarm and reset the scene for a re-take.

His ear throbs, the pain lighting up the side of his face with every careful step up. It was bleeding again, he could feel the warmth pooling, dripping in a slow sticky rivulet down his neck. It’s a nuisance, nothing more. (For now. He has no future until this is over anyway.)

Scaffolding. Construction. Paint buckets and drop cloths. Everything covered in a fine layer of silky dust. His foot slips in it as he pulled his gun higher and slows his steps.

“I found Will!” Hotch says into his comm. He regrets it instantly, they’re going to want to come up and he wants them as far away as possible. What he sees is a nightmare.

“Is he mobile?” Emily's voice breaks through, out of breath.

“Negative. He's got six transmitters on him.” And duct tape, he says to himself as he creeps closer. He scans the floor for trip wires, trying not to disrupt anything. Once he’s satisfied it’s just he and Will and the open mezzanine, he crouches beside the other man and pulls the duct tape from his lips.

“Aw hell...why?”

“I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

“Where are you? I'm on my way,” Reid says, and even though it’s only into the comm Will can hear it too. Loud and clear. He shakes his head. The movement is slow and pained, he's barely hanging on.

“Tell them to get everyone out.”

“The bomb squad is on its way,” Hotch says, looking at the bomb.

2:48

“How far out is the bomb squad?” Hotch asks into his comm, daring to hope for one second that they would come rushing through the door as if on command. No such luck.

“Three minutes,” Rossi replies. Hotch feels his heart drop. Not metaphorically, he's pretty sure it actually drops down into his stomach.

“They need to get everyone out.” Will is bleeding all over his shirt, he looks sick. There's sweat on his brow and Hotch wants to reach out and dab it away but there's no time for that kind of intimacy. “You too. Go. They're at your house, they've got Jack.”

“It's taken care of. JJ's got him.”

Will screws up his face, trying not to cry. “It's my fault. I keep Jack's information in my wallet, in case I have to pick him up...or if his school calls...”

“Shh, we don't have time.”

“You have to get out of here.”

2:35

“Stop wasting time whining. I'll get Reid up here, and you can walk him through it. With his memory and your...”

Voices, dismembered and chaotic, float from the main floor up toward the vaulted ceiling. The squealing of brakes, trains on their tracks, echo against a marble landscape. Will shakes his head adamantly.

“No. Not Reid. Come on Hotch, if I gotta die, I want your face to be the last thing I see.”

“You're not going to die.”

“I am if you don't get busy on this bomb...if it gets down to thirty seconds, you run. You hear me?”

Silence between them. Time ticking toward zero.

“Hotch. Promise me. Thirty seconds and you run for an exit. I won't be the reason Jack loses his only parent.”

2:12

“Talk me through it, then. Everything they did was about them. Their story.”

“When did they meet?” Will asks, closing his eyes for only a second to slow his heart before it crashes through his sternum. He’s usually frighteningly good under pressure, always the last person to get worked up, but he’s never had explosives strapped to his chest before. This is a new one. He’s a little panicked.

“2008,” Hotch whispers, punching in the numbers.

1:57

Wrong. Colors flash, Hotch's heart stops briefly. “Hotch. Seriously. Just go. Jack needs you to live through this. Don't be stupid.”

“I have plenty of time. Hold on.” He tries another code, another failure. Will lets out a pained whimper and shakes his head.

“Hotch. Dammit. You gotta go. I'm glad I got to see your face one more time, now just give me a damn kiss and run like hell. Tell Jack I love him, aw'right?”

“We have one more try.”

“And if you get it wrong we both die.”

“And if I get it right, you walk me through some wires I don't understand. I won't give up on you.”

1:01

“This isn't about them,” Will says finally, the low throb in his shoulder no longer a distraction. He’s cold and tired. Maybe he’ll die before the bomb ever goes off, it hadn’t even occurred to him until now. “This is about her. This is his love letter to her.”

“Okay...” This would be the time for Reid. Coming up with random four letter words that meant love would be easy for him. Hotch felt every word he'd ever known suddenly vacate the premises. He’s nothing but a caveman blindly navigating his way through this modern technological mess.

“Izzy...” Will whispers. “Her name is Izzy.”

Hotch punches it in without thinking. The time is too short, it’s too late to question him. They’re both goners anyway.

IZZY

Green lights. A small door pops open.

00:30

“Wires?”

“Wires.”

Will lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “What colors are they?”

“Red, blue, yellow.”

00:28

“Hotch, what's your status?”

Hotch stares hard at Will, meeting his eyes, locking there. He doesn’t know what to say. Is fucked an appropriate response?

00:20

“Hotch, do you copy?”

He rips his ear piece out and lets it fall around his neck. No distractions.

“The story's in the details...”

00:14

“These wires mean something,” Will says. He’s disgusted by these people, the audacity of them to make everyone else unwitting participants in their sick love story. “The colors. Usually you can tell by how they're...but this time...” the pain is back and it’s making him dizzy.

He knows there's a way he uses to get to the right answer, he knows it. Will tells him to look at certain things, see where they go, but he's not listening. He’s in that same movie scene again, the soundtrack has dropped out, it’s just the sound of his breathing. Heavy, exaggerated breathing.

00:08

He can't hear anything now. Maybe that’s his ear, there is some latent pain there that he knows should feel a lot worse except he’s barely connected to his body. Will’s lips are moving, he’s explaining something quickly but his ear is ringing, sound has taken on a muffled underwater quality. Maybe the injury, maybe the anxiety. He thinks of the US flag and the Chad flag, and with his eyes locked on Will’s he offers the smallest fuck it smile he can...

00:04

He snips the yellow wire.

00:01

The bomb goes dead, the world stops spinning. Hotch falls back onto his butt and Will breathes a huge sigh of relief.

“How'd you do that?”

Hotch looks at him as sound slowly trickles back into his surroundings. It's still muffled but it's there again. Color bleeds back into his vision, and for a moment he thinks he might be sick or faint but it passes quickly.

“I stopped listening to you.”

Will laughs. “Classic.”

They stare at each other for a minute, relishing the fact that they’re still alive. Somehow they’re still alive. They can’t really believe it.

“You gonna leave me in the chains or what? My ass is going numb and I think I might bleed to death.”

“I guess I could call someone.”

“You guess?”

Hotch leans close and Will kisses him, right on the mouth, right there in the wide open. If he had his hands free it would have been violent and possessive, hands grabbing at Hotch's face, holding him there. It doesn't really matter that he can't, Hotch can feel it anyway. Each time he tries to pull away, to say something, Will follows. Trails him, chases him, keeps them connected like he's drawing life from the kiss. He isn't ready to stop and how can Hotch deny him that while he's strapped to explosives?

Hotch knows that once he makes the call and says the bomb is diffused, they’ll be flooded with people. For now the mezzanine is still theirs. It was mean, making everyone wait. But Will is still kissing him like he needs it. Another kiss. And another. Hotch's jaw aches by the time the sound of feet crashing against the floor tell them that the bomb squad has arrived.

“We got it,” Hotch says into his comm not a moment too soon. He’s a little out of breath and it has nothing to do with the bomb. “Barely. We need someone who can cut through chains. And a medic. Stat.”

[empress-of-hugs]

The Sisterhood Of The Traveling Shirt

Click on the title to read on AO3

“Oh, my gosh.” JJ held up a soft blue sweater. “Don’t you just love– oh.” She chuckled as Emily looked at her, holding the same blue sweater up to her own body. 

“Yes,” she said giddily, “I do love it.” 

“Ugh,” JJ hung the shirt back on the rack. “We need to not go shopping together…” 

Emily shot her a confused look. “Why not?” 

Gesturing to the already highly contested contents of her shopping cart, JJ couldn’t help but laugh. “We keep going for the same things!” 

“Oh, so what?” Emily reached out and grabbed the shirt JJ had put back on the rack. “Let’s go try these on, okay? Whoever it looks best on gets to keep it.” 

JJ sighed softly, looking from Emily’s impressive stack to her own, decidedly smaller stack. “Yeah, sure…” 

Emily chuckled and dragged her along. “You just need a little more confidence.” 

As she stepped into the dressing room, JJ looked at her own reflection in the mirror. Maybe Emily was right. Maybe she did need to have a little more self-confidence. She quickly removed her simple white shirt, giving herself a quick once over. The super-toned belly she’d had in her college days was gone, but she was still slim and well-built. “Could do with a tan, though,” she murmured. 

“You’re right!” Emily called from the stall beside hers. “I could definitely use one too.” 

JJ smiled at her friend’s words and pulled the soft sweater over her head. After adjusting just a little, she admired herself in the mirror. “Emily? I think I win this one,” she said, with some confidence. 

The curtain behind her moved, and Emily appeared in the small crack. “You look great,” she said. 

JJ found her eyes inescapably drawn to Emily’s reflection. “You’re gorgeous,” she breathed. “I mean, I mean, that shirt looks amazing on you.” 

“And on you,” Emily smiled. “You’re right, I think you win.” 

“No, no…” JJ shook her head. “I think you do. Really. It’s… It suits you so well.” 

Emily chuckled. “Tell you what, we both get it. And then we agree that we can’t wear it on the same case. So, you get to wear it on our next case, and I don’t. Then, the case after that, I get to wear it, but you don’t. Make sense?” 

“I guess…” JJ hesitated. “I could just only wear it at home, though…” 

“Nah,” Emily gave her one last smile before turning around. “It looks really professional on you, and beautiful.” She moved back into her own dressing room as she continued. “You need something that makes you look… soft, and approachable. I mean, you always kinda do, but… I think you should wear it on the job. That’s all.” 

JJ nodded and closed the curtain again, pulling the softest of softest blue over her head and putting her own shirt on again. “Maybe you’re right. It does make me feel very… happy, I think. I could use a happy shirt with all the bullshit we deal with.” 

…

“Hey Prentiss,” Morgan chuckled as they walked past him. “Forgot to do laundry again?” 

“What? No!” But she sniffed at the sleeve of her sweater anyway before shooting JJ a questioning look. “I washed this sweater the day before we left…” 

“Riiight,” Morgan laughed as he walked off, and Emily shot JJ a confused look. 

“What was that all about?” 

“I dunno,” JJ shrugged. “But I have a press conference to get to, and I think Hotch said you had to be there too…” 

Emily nodded and followed her, taking her position just behind JJ as JJ made her emotional appeal to the reporters. She knew Emily would be smiling softly, looking as sweet and kind as she could muster while profiling a room full of potential witnesses. The sweater really helped, JJ mused as she waited for the room to calm down after her words. Emily looked softer, more delicate this way. Of course, the long skirt she had lent her definitely helped as well. 

JJ waited for Hotch’s signal before stepping back and leaving the room, with Emily right behind her. She quickly moved into the conference room they were set up in. Spence and Rossi were already reviewing the footage, pointing details out to one another that JJ was sure she would have missed. 

Rossi looked up for just a moment. “You two did good,” he said. “And good thinking changing Prentiss’ clothes. Her usual style wouldn’t have had the same response.” 

Shrugging lightly, JJ reached for the thermos of coffee. “It’s just a skirt.”

“Yeah,” Emily sat down, her own eyes drawn to the monitor as she spoke. “Put on a skirt and immediately every guy thinks you’re a defenseless little wallflower.”

Rossi raised an eyebrow. His gaze swept over Emily’s appearance. “It’s not just the skirt. The color of that shirt makes you look softer, and the fuzzy material enhances the notion. The necklace is the finishing touch, I’m sure.” 

Emily looked a little uncomfortable and JJ handed her a cup of coffee. “The shirt is hers, though.” 

“Uh-huh…” Rossi gave her a doubtful look. “If you say so…” 

JJ looked at Emily and they shared a momentary frown before Spencer suddenly yelped. 

“There! Right there! He has the tattoo our victim described.” Everyone leaned over the screen as Rossi rewound the footage, then played it again in slow-motion. 

JJ let the profilers do their work. She had nothing to contribute to their conversation. Sitting down on the other side of the table, she took a sip of her coffee and waited to hear what the next step was going to be. Hotch and Morgan joined them in the conference room, and the group discussed their options. 

JJ frowned lightly when she felt Rossi’s eyes on her for at least the third time in as many minutes. He seemed only half-involved in the ongoing conversation, his eyes continuously cycling back and forth between Emily and herself. She wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. She didn’t want to interrupt their work, knowing full well how important this conversation was. 

As the team started to disperse, Rossi muttered something under his breath, causing Morgan to snicker. 

"What're you laughing about?" Spencer immediately questioned, a worried look in his eye.

“It’s nothing, Reid,” Rossi assured him and Morgan chortled. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Dave,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. 

“What?” Rossi asked innocently. “I’m a profiler. I profile. And I just so happen to have noticed that either JJ is turning Emily into her personal teddy bear, or Emily is doing the same to JJ.” 

JJ pulled a face, her eyes searching for Emily’s reaction. Emily gave her a mildly amused smile, her hand stroking the soft fabric of the soft blue sweater, just above the curve of her breasts. 

Rossi motioned to her, an exaggerated look of excitement on his face. “See? How can any straight man work under these kinds of conditions?” 

Hotch let out a soft sigh as he turned away. “Dream about it on your own time, we have a psychopath to catch.”

[deanstead]

honeymoon with aaron hotchner 🩷

here's to my first aaron x reader ficlet/drabble. Hope it turned out ok~ thanks for sending this in!

===

"Honeymoon?" You raised your eyebrows and asked. "Aren't we a little too..."

Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, smiling. "Too what?"

You chuckled and shook your head. "Besides, Unit Chief, how sure are you that you can get away?"

Aaron glanced at you, his expression falling back to his default serious expression. "Y/N, I..."

You picked up on the shift and looked up at him. "I don't need a honeymoon, Aaron. Or a fancy wedding. I just need... well, you." You paused. "And flowers once in a while couldn't hurt."

He broke back into a smile, and leaned toward you, pressing his lips firmly onto yours, pulling you in for a deep kiss that had you falling even deeper.

send me an ask with a prompt or a first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five-ish

[curtsycream]

Here you’ll find all my newer works, want to read my older fics click the link in my pinned for it <33

New MasterList

* <- smut

+ <- angst

• <- agere

~ <- m!reader

! <- f!reader

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COD

Poly 141 x Reader

Sons of Anarchy*!

Beautiful Woman*!

Price x Reader x Simon

Could You Understand?*!

Golden Era

Hermione Granger x F!Reader

Anything For You, Beautiful !

Marauders Era

Jily x F!Reader

She’s in Love !

Regulus Black x Reader

Could Never Unlove You !

She’s Her !

My Heart Lingers in Italy !

James Potter x Reader

My Greatest Love, My Greater Enemy+!

Heartaches & Coffee+!

Lost It All+~

WolfStar x Reader

A Long Night*!

Haikyu

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Little!Reader

Daddy’s Touch•!

BNHA

BakuKiriDeku x Little!Reader

Hide n Seek•!

What Makes Them Happy•!

Baby Voice•!

Missing You•!

Pacifier Complications•!

When Sleep Won’t Come•!

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Farmer’s Market Crush !

Stranger Things

Robin Buckley x F!Reader

No One Puts Lovey In A Corner !

Eddie Munson x Reader

But It’s Not Real+!

Support The Arts !

Beside You+!

Support the Arts 3*!

Steve Harrington x Reader

Split Ends !

Headcanons

COD

SoapGhostGaz x Reader

Frat*!

Platonic!TF141 x Reader

Their Daughter !

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Gallstone!Eddie*!

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Cottagecore Wife !

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COD

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Tell Me About Your Day

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Video Call*!

Stranger Things

Robin Buckley x F!Reader

They Call It Love !

Eddie Munson x Reader

A Lesson in Good Girl Training*!

A Lesson in Answering Calls*!

A Lesson in Picnics*!

A Lesson in Bat Boyfriends !

A Lesson in Nails and Blowjobs*!

The Country Club*!

His Scene Girl !

Steve Harrington x Reader

Cockwarming*!

Haikyu

Seijoh Four x Reader

The Way To My Heart…Oranges !

Rainy Days !

Marauders Era

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I Promise !

Blue Hands !

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BakuKiriDeku x Little!Reader

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Favorite Blankets•!

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Lay Your Head Down•!

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I Like You !

SMAU

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Reneé Rapp x F!Reader

Mi Amor !

Mean Girls 2024 !

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson x Reader

Support the Arts 2 !

Marauders Era

Jily x F!Reader

Ringed Fingers !

[my-mummy-dust]

I’ll carry you

Just a little ficlet based off a dumb idea I sent to one of my moots, who responded with ‘that’s hot’ ?? Like ok now I guess I have to write it. 😒 (ily)

Warnings: none? Some cm violence but no blood or anything. Misspelled words and grammar mistakes? Word count: 2.1k

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You grunted softly in pain, limping your way over to hotch and Rossi. Putting your hands on your hips, you shifted all your weight onto one leg, extending your other to alleviate the pain, but appear as un-injured as possible while doing so.

‘Is everything alright?”

Rossi said, turning to face you, one of his eyebrows raised in questioning.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Where’s everyone else?”

Aaron chimed in, turning to face you like Rossi had.

“They started walking back with the unsub. We couldn’t fit the SUVs or sheriff cars onto the road leading here. I thought you went with them?”

In all honesty, you wish you had. If you could you’d be chatting it up with prentiss, Morgan, and Reid; but the unsub had other plans. It took you a solid couple minutes to get out of the room you were in and into the main part of the old building hotch and Rossi were in.

“Yeah, i got caught up with..stuff.”

Shifting in your spot, you were about to move your weight to your other leg, a habit you’d picked up, but the moment the smallest ounce of weight was put on your leg; a sharp pain tore through your entire leg. From your thigh all the way down to your ankle. You had to bite down hard on your lip to stop from audibly wincing.

Hotch and Rossi Boeing profilers trained to pick up on even the smallest of details about a persons demeanor noticed this. Hotch took a step towards you, a look of concern coating his eyes.

‘Are you hurt?”

One of the many things about Aaron hotchner that never failed to amaze you was how quickly his tone can change. Not just his tone, his whole demeanor, everything. He could go from so stern and professional, to the most caring, lovestruck idiot in the world. Like now for example, when you hobbled over he was talking to Rossi in a relaxed, but still professional manner. But now, his tone changed completely. When he asked if you got hurt, his face looked worried, his tone mirroring that but without the sharpness his facial features has.

Weighing your options, you sighed, running a stressed hand through your hair. You could lie, and just say that it hurt from the hours you had been in a car today, or tell him the truth and deal with clingy ‘doctor aaron’ as you called it. Anytime you’d get hurt he would be all over you. It was sweet, but embarrassed you to the highest of heavens and back. Not that you hated it.

‘Y/n?”

The use of your first name brought you out of your careful decision making. Snapping back into reality you shrugged.

‘It’s nothing, just a little sore. No bleeding, no broken bones.”

You watched carefully as hotch’s brows knitted together. None of you noticed that heheh bent down just a bit to look over your face until he stood up fully, straightening himself out and checked his watch.

‘Well the road to the cars is a considerable distance, and if we want to catch up with the others id suggest we start walking now.’

Rossi said as he started walking out of the building, leaving the two of you behind. Once Rossi had left the building, he stepped a little closer, bringing his hand up under your chin to tilt your head up so he could make absolutely sure your face was ok.

You felt a red tint taking over your face as you diverted your gaze away from his, the butterflies in your stomach going feral.

‘Aaron, really…I’m alright. We should go catch up with Rossi.”

After another moment of him just staring at you, he bent down and kissed your cheek, a stern look still on his face.

‘Let’s go then”

You nodded and watched him walk for a few steps, then took a deep breath in and out, and started walking. Biting your cheek to keep quiet, you slowly hobbled behind him; having to stop every couple steps to catch your breath. You held it when you were in pain; a habit you cursed as you started to get lightheaded.

He stopped in his tracks after catching up with Rossi, who, thankfully wasn’t too far ahead. He turned around to look at you, Rossi following hotch’s motions. The look of worry on hotch’s face was unmistakeable as he walked towards you, new wrinkles appearing in his face.

“What?”

You asked, trying to deflect the fact that you were out of breath and on the verge of ripping your leg off completely.

‘You cant walk.”

It was a statement. He wasn’t asking for your protest, he was telling you to stop walking.

“What are we gonna do? We’re not even halfway to the cars”

Rossi thought aloud, eying your leg.

‘She cant walk’

Hotch said, turning his head to face rossi.

‘Well we cant drag her’

Rossi’s half-assed comment made you smile a bit.

‘Then I’ll carry her’

He said, turning back to you. Walking over to you with steady strides, he stopped in front of you; momentarily searching your face for any outright rejection to his proposal.

‘Really, i can walk,’

‘No. And it’ll be faster this way’

He stepped forwards, extending his arms. For a moment, you caught his worried gaze. His brown eyes staring into your soul.

‘Turn to the side for me, hurt leg facing away from me.’

You nodded and did as you were told, pivoting on your heel so your injured leg was facing away from him. He shuffled forward, one arm wrapping around your lower back. As he bent down to wrap his other arm under your knees, he stopped momentarily right by your ear, lowering his voice.

“Are you ok with this?”

He wanted to make sure he wasn’t making you uncomfortable. He knew your interjections and protests were shallow, but he was a cautious guy. You nodded, all you pain melting away for just a second while you basked in the sweetness of his voice.

Hotch bent down a little more, bringing his other arm under your knees and scooping you up. With a low grunt under his breath you were in his arms. You winced at the suddenly contact of your legs hitting each other, and herd hotch softly apologizing. Turning around he walked back over to Rossi, motioning towards the cars in the distance.

‘You cant carry her the whole way Aaron’

‘Says who?’

“Me”

You smiled once again at hotch and Rossi’s banter, clasping your bangs together because you honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself. Aaron leaned his head down a little so it was closer to your ear once again.

“Here, wrap your arms around my neck so you don’t fall”

His voice was so soft and gentle. It was low but not threatening, in a caring way. You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers with each other on the back of his neck.

‘So care to tell us what you did princess?”

Rossi’s tone was dripping in sarcasm, the new nickname causing you to laugh. Hotch raised a brow as he kept walking, taking extra caution to walk steadily.

‘The unsub kicked my knee pretty hard and i fell, when i was down he landed another solid kick just below the other one’

You suffered at the thought, the pain growing the more you thought about it.

‘Was this before we got in there?”

Aaron interjected. You simply nodded. He hummed in response, but you could tell he wasn’t happy.

~~~~~~~

After a little more walking, the sound of gravel crunching under his boots almost lulling you to sleep, the three of you finally caught up to everyone else. They were all talking by the ambulance as Morgan was getting looked over. He got a small cut just above his eyebrow, though it wasn’t deep enough for stitches.

All of them went dead silent as they looked first at hotch, then you in his arms.

‘My, my. What do we have here?”

Morgan called out with a smirk on his face. You turned tomato red, not sure if you could bury your face in Aaron’s chest to hide, or if that would make it worse on your end.

‘She couldn’t walk all the way.’

Aaron stated as he walked next to Morgan, urging him to move from where he was seated on the bumper. When he moved hotch gently set you down, kissing the top of your head as he stood up. To your dismay, there was a symphony of ‘ooooh’s and little comments that reminded you of elementary school, when a kid would get called into the principals office.

Prentiss and JJ walked over to you, standing next to you as hotch told the ambulance workers what happened to your leg.

‘What was that all about?”

JJ asked with amusement in her tone.

‘I couldn’t walk.’

You repeated Aaron’s words, wishing they would take that and be happy. But of course, they weren’t.

‘I saw the kiss on the top of the head’

Prentiss stated matter-a-factly, almost sounding like Reid when he would correct something you’d said that wasn’t ‘scientifically accurate’. You looked at Aaron, and he stared back. You silently asked if it was time to tell the team or not. He nodded once, stepping back to let the medics do their work.

‘Hotch and i are kinda…dating”

“What?”

The whole team said in unison. Well everyone except for Rossi. He knew for a while. Aaron nodded, watching you carefully as the medics pulled your pant leg up, revealing a pretty nasty bruise in its early stages.

You winced as the medic poked around your leg. You knew it was only to make sure your leg wasn’t broken, but it didn’t have to hurt so much.

‘I really don’t think its broken….i can walk on it, just hurts..’

You trailed off, being hit with a small wave of nausea from the pain. After another very painful moments of poking, turning, and having you bend your leg the medic nodded.

‘It’s not broken, just make sure to rest and ice it when you can. Don’t put any extra weight on it.’

You nodded, thanking the medic for looking you over and stood. You stumbled for a moment, tying and failing to balance on your good leg. A firm hand grabbing your forearm steadied you. Aaron checked his watch, looking at everyone on the team, as if he was taking mental attendance.

‘Well its getting late. Let’s head back to the sheriffs department and when they’re done with us, head back to your hotel rooms and start packing up. We’ll leave tomorrow after breakfast.’

Everyone nodded and made their way to their respected vehicles. You started to walk away, but got tugged backwards by the hand on your arm.

‘Where do you think you’re going?”

Hotch asked, raising a brow in a joking manner.

‘To the car? Where are you going?”

You raised both of your brows, leaning back a little for dramatic affect. He cracked a smile and bent down a little, bringing your arm over his shoulders as he walked you to the passenger side of his SUV. He opened the door and helped you into the car, clasping it behind you. The car ride was peaceful until he started the scolding. It was a stretch calling it that, but he wanted to get it into your head that you cant just barge into the unsub s territory by yourself not expecting to get hurt.

You could hear the worry in his voice, and when you looked over at him you saw it painted all over his face. Reaching your hand out a little, he took it and rested both of your hands in your lap, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand gently.

‘I’m sorry for worrying you like that’

You sheepishly murmured, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

‘Don’t apologize sweetie, I’m not mad, just worried.’

He squeezed your hand a little when he used the name, still rubbing the back of your hand. The butterflies in your stomach had returned full force, and your felt like you were floating. After a second he spoke again.

‘Hey,’

You looked over in his direction, humming softly in response.

‘I love you’

‘I love you too’

The two of you smiled, basking in the comfort of each other, enjoying the comforting silence. He brought the top of your hand to his lips and kissed it, before resting your hand back in your lap, his still holding yours. You learned the side of your head against the cold window and closed your eyes, not realizing how tired you were from the action of earlier. Once the pain meds had finally kicked in, you fell asleep, still holding onto Aaron’s hand.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

A/n: I loved writing this!! Sorry if there’s any misspelled words or anything, I didn’t spend as much time going over it as I usually would, bc I’m in that mood where if I stare at my writing too long I’ll keep changing it and it’ll lose its charm.

@hearthotchner 🥰🫶🏻

[starzzyeyed]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RATTIE

Happy birthday to my dear old rodent-aligned friend, and my wonderful co-author several times over, @reasonablerodents !!!

Dear old Rattie wrote a beautifully fluffy ficlet for my birthday, so it's only fair that I return the favour! (He also drew a beautiful picture of Hotch, but I am not gifted with the same talents, so alas, this must suffice on its own) <3

This is utterly stupid and I would apologise, but I know you'll appreciate the reference so I'm not going to.

(I'm a few hours late posting this but shhh, the muse wouldn't engage in time for me to get this posted on your actual birthday)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

Established Relationship, All the fluff, mild sexual humour

As he wakes up, Spencer slowly realises two things.

One; there’s a pair of arms wrapped around his body, holding him tightly against a strong and warm chest.

Two; there’s a pair of familiar lips pressing softly against his own, kissing him softly as he slowly wakes from the deepest sleep he’s had in a long time.

It doesn’t take longer than this realisation sinking in for him to return the kiss, opening his mouth and sighing contentedly when his partner deepens it slightly.

“Good morning,” Aaron says softly, and when Spencer opens his eyes he sees that the older man is smiling at him, “happy birthday.”

“Mornin’,” Spencer mumbles back, turning over in the arms that are wrapped so securely around his body and resting his head on Aaron’s warm, bare chest. “And thank you.”

Aaron smiles again as Spencer’s head settles on his chest, the long hair tickling his skin as he bends his head down to kiss the soft hair that he loves so much; that belongs to the man that he loves so much.

“I thought I’d treat you to breakfast in bed,” Aaron says, and Spencer just smiles against his chest. “If you’d like that.”

“That sounds perfect,” Spencer replies, snuggling closer to his partner.

“That means you moving so I can get up and make it, though,” Aaron points out a moment later, and Spencer just nods. He makes no move to lift his head and allow Aaron to actually get out of the bed, though.

Aaron just laughs quietly, shaking his head as he settles back down on the pillows, because it’s clear that he’s not going anywhere for the time being.

“What are you gonna make for me?” Spencer mumbles.

“I thought avocado on toast, maybe with some of that chilli jam I made last year,” Aaron replies quietly, wrapping his arms around Spencer’s body once again and smiling at the contented sigh he hears. “If you’d like that. If not, I’ll make you whatever you do want; it is your birthday, after all.”

“No, that would be nice,” Spencer says, lifting his head slightly so that he can look up at his partner with a small smirk, “it’s rather fitting, anyway.”

Aaron raises an eyebrow, but he can’t pretend the thought isn’t slightly arousing.

“And how exactly is offering you avocado on toast fitting?” he replies, although the glint in Spencer’s eye tells him that there’s more to this than he’s letting on. 

He learns soon enough what his partner has planned for his special day.

“Because,” Spencer begins, propping himself up on his elbows on Aaron’s chest so that he can look his partner in the eye, “avocados are known as nature’s testicles, and then after breakfast, I think I’d like you back in this bed for at least three hours.”

Aaron chokes on nothing but air at the unexpected, and yet somehow completely adorable, sentence that Spencer replies with, before managing to compose himself again.

“Is that so?” he asks, and Spencer just grins at him, nodding his head before he leans up to steal another kiss from his partner.

[ravawrites]

Unimportant

summary: after an attack on her life, her boss finally lets up warnings: general CM violence, gun violence, knife violence a/n: hope you enjoy. do you want a part 2? wordcount: 3.3k

“C'mon Baby girl, get me an address.” Derek encouraged down the phone as the team stood around the table as Penelope typed frantically on the other line. They had found the man targeting influential women execution-style in the back of their heads at seemingly random points during the day, walking away and leaving them DOA.                                               “Our creep lives at 56 Hobson Drive, a mile from here.” She spouts quickly and everyone rushes to grab their guns and put on their vests.                                                                   “Have the paperwork ready for when we get back to the station,” Hotch says, the instructions directed at you with a curt nod as he slides the dark blue vest on with white block text in the centre of the chest.                                                                                                                 “Yes sir.” You say quickly with a nod, as he jets off, going to join the rest of the team and jumping into the large SUV and speeding off with the rest of the team to go and apprehend the Unsub and bring him in for questioning.

In the meantime, while they were gone, you made a call to Quantico’s finest tech girl.                                   “What do you need my love?” She greets as she picks up the line.         “Could you print out the interrogation forms for me, please?” You ask her in a sweet voice and can’t contain your smile.                                      “Of course, I can and what printer would that be delivered to?” She asks.                                              “The name is Georgia Atlanta PP3, if you could send them stat, that would be great.” Making your way to the printer the papers began to be spat out from the printer.

 “Thank you Pen, I’ll update you later,” ending the call with a small beep, you take the papers to the conference room, leaving them on the large round table then taking a quick detour to the bathroom. It wasn’t as up-to-date as the bureau's facilities but wasn't the worst thing she’d seen. The tiles were yellowing and some of the caulking was peeling off around the sinks. One stall was already occupied out of the two.

The singular sink tap was taking forever to warm up, the hot tap seemingly not working. Constantly you swipe your hand under the running water, the cold temperature causing goosebumps all over your upper body. The lock clicks from the stall behind you as you look at the pipe below the sink. One of them had been cut.                              “Hey.” You ask without looking up from the sink. “Do you know what's wrong with the hot tap?”                                                                                                                                                                          “No.” A deep voice says from behind you and your eyes snap up to the mirror.

You knew that face. That man's face was currently printed out and pinned to a corkboard. The team was presently kicking down his door and storming his apartment. And he currently had a gun at your head.                                                                                                  “You’re-” You start to say and close your eyes as he presses the gun harder into the back of your head.                                                                  “Yes.” He said simply. “And I have a G34 to the back of your head.” He said menacingly into your ear as his body shoved yours against the sink.                                                                  “Good for you.” You grit out and clench your jaw and he clocks the gun, a small click ricochets around the bathroom.                                     “Watch your mouth.” He snarls. “Or I’ll shoot you.”

Your mind darts back to the profile the team had delivered earlier. What the team had told the local police to look out for.                            “He’s methodical and organised.” Derek started. “Which means he is choosing who he kills, not just killing them at random.”                            “He thinks he is doing the world a favour by ridding of these powerful women, he's a violent misogynist who thinks that women shouldn't be in the positions they work in.” Hotch continues. “Shooting them in the back of the head execution style shows that he wants them dead, with no chance of survival.                                                                              Spencer picks it up from there. “He’ll want approval of what he has done so when we do find him, don’t insult him, boost his ego. If he feels pressured he will do down shooting or commit suicide by cop.”    “We're looking for a white male, around 30 to 40 years of age and possibly has a record of domestic abuse or general violence against women.” Emily finishes. “So spread this around to whoever you can as we believe he will kill again soon.”

“Why shoot me?” You ask and make eye contact in the mirror. “I’m not in a high-profile job.” Your voice shakes slightly.                                 “You’re with the FBI, in prison they’ll love me if I kill a fed.” He snarls quietly into your ear.                           “I’m not a fed. I’m a PA.” You tell him. “I make coffee and grab files, no one knows who I am. You want to waste your last kill on someone so unimportant?” You continue and you see his confidence start to waver. “And then you get killed by the cops. Who remembers someone like that.” His eyes flash with anger.                                            “I am a God. God’s do not die.”                                                                       “You know, 'cause of all of the remarkable work you've done so far.” You correct, remembering what Spencer had said earlier about praising the man. 

“My remarkable work?” He says, his hand on the glock shakes slightly. It was working.                                       “Yeah, you killed all those women and still didn’t get caught. You’re currently in a police station bathroom and none of them noticed you come in.” You compliment with a small smile hoping to get him to pull the gun away from your head. “No one would notice if you killed me. And I won’t tell anyone I saw you.” You convince him. “They will let you walk right out of here and you can just carry on.” His eyes snap away from yours and down to the bathroom floor and darting around the lines on the tiles below, the cool metal still pushed into the back of your skull and he begins to lower the barrel slightly, now pointing at the small of your back. 

Shuffling your feet, you spin around, face to face with a killer. You don’t look him in the face and keep your eyes centred on the top of his chest and neck. He was wearing a maintenance uniform in an ugly beige that insulted your eyes, like a wall painted white that had been yellowed by cigarettes. So that’s how he got in, the broken tap. His nails were crusty, the skin around them pulling away. He held the gun at his side, pointing it at the ground. You felt like a profiler as you looked the man up and down, a phoney one at that. With no idea of what you are looking for, trying to even out your voice.                          “C’mon,” You start. “Let's walk out of here.” Hands trembling you walk towards the bathroom door with him. His hand was still firmly wrapped around the gun. So hard, so hard that his hands had begun to shake too. 

He was nervous to walk out into a room full of police officers who carried guns. There was also a chance he was ready to commit suicide by cop and go out there shooting. However, there was a feeling you just couldn’t shake, buried deep in your gut, like bees buzzing furiously. The realisation hit you then, he wasn’t shaking out of nerves. He was shaking out of anger. He was angry at you for foiling his plan to kill an FBI agent. 

The team had talked about a fight, flight or freeze response on so many cases that you had lost count. You had always taken yourself for a flight or freeze kind of person, not one to fight back or even be confrontational. Right before the shot rang out, that grinding gut feeling that was making you feel sick told you to duck. The bullet flew right over your head and lodged itself in the wall behind the yellowing tiles, shattering over the floor. 

Before he could take the second shot at you, there was a knife in his neck. Specifically, the knife you had pulled from the holster in your boot. Quickly, you run over to him and kick the gun away from his hands and under the stall. The door is kicked open violently by Derek and he points his gun at the ground. At the man, you had just killed. The dead man, whose blood was pouring over the bathroom floor.       “He’s gone,” Derek said while crouching over the body with his fingers to the man’s neck. 

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks and gives you his arm to help you step over the body.                          “I’m fine.” You state simply, taking his hand and stepping over the man you had just killed and out of the bathroom. Once you have left the bathroom JJ rushes over with a cornered look in her eyes.               “What happened?” She says, wrapping her arms around your shoulders tightly.                         “He put a gun to my head so I threw a knife at him.” Shrugging into her hands, you give her a small smile to assure her you’re okay. “The hot tap is broken in the bathroom, you should notify the Captain so he can get a real maintenance man in.” You say as the team heads back into your borrowed conference room, JJ’s arm still wrapped around your shoulder firmly. 

“She’s taking this surprisingly well,” Derek says to Hotch as they hang behind the rest of the team. “She talked a man with a gun to her head, with no experience.”                                      “Let’s just be thankful she made it out alive,” Hotch replies in his usual dull tone, giving Derek a pointed look before the two of them head into the conference room.                                    “Wheels up in 30, it's been a long couple of days.” Hotch nods and the team heads back to the small hotel to grab their bags.

It was still insane to you that you got to fly around on a private jet to all different states for a living. Even though the circumstances were not the best, a privilege was still a privilege. However, that jet was currently sitting in an incredibly tense silence that wasn’t usual for the way back from a case. You were sat on the four-seater with Emily and Derek opposite you, JJ to your left. The blond was very obviously worried about you as she had refused to leave your side since you had taken a single footstep outside of the bathroom. The air was thick with awkwardness, it felt suffocating and you internally begged for someone to break the silence. Hotch and Rossi sat on the single-seaters. Rossi had pulled a plush and most likely very expensive eye mask over his face as he got some much-needed shut-eye. Spencer was nose-deep into some Russian book that he would most likely finish in the next twenty minutes. Hotch was already starting the case files as the unit chief he had a whole file or two extra. 

“So.” Thank the world for Derek Morgan you thought as someone finally spoke up. “Where did you learn to throw knives, pretty girl?” You had gained that nickname for being the youngest on the team, Reid above you.                                                                                         “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” You say mysteriously. “I took a class in college.” Shrugging with a light blush covers your face.                                                             “How many secrets do you have?” Emily smirks at you.                           “Not many, but enough.” You answer vaguely again. “Pen knows all of them.”                                     “Penelope Garcia knows your secrets and has kept them a secret.” JJ turns to you in shock, her mouth wide open.                                               “She has to be a certain amount of margaritas in before I tell her anything.” A look of realisation dawns on JJ’s face. “Then she is guaranteed to not remember it.”                          “Smart.” Morgan comments and you shrug. 

The atmosphere had finally gone back to the lightheartedness you were used to and it put you at ease.                                                                “Remind me to never mess with you.” Spencer directed towards you as he made his way to the kitchenette.                                                          “Were you planning on it?”                                                                               “Nope.” He replied quickly.                                                                              “Well, then you should be fine.” You tease him and he walks down the aisle of the plane. The rest of the flight is spent as usual, some sleeping, Emily gets beaten by Spencer in cards for the hundredth time. The normality calmed you. 

_

The minute the elevator dings and the doors slide open on floor six, a bright blur of pink, yellow and blue comes rushing at you.                       “JJ told me what happened! Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Penelope’s questions rush out her mouth at a million miles a second as she hugs you as tightly as possible.                                            “Can’t breathe.” You heave out into her ear. “You’re squeezing my lungs.”                                      “I was so worried when you didn’t call me back” She leaned back and grabbed onto the top of your arms, the worry still present in her eyes. “I was a bit busy, unfortunately.” You joke, attempting to soothe her.    “I made you your favourite tea, just how you like it. Come on.” She drags you away from the rest of the team and to the kitchen and sat on the counter in your favourite mug was your favourite tea, just as she said.                                                                                                      “You are an angel, Penelope.” You lean your head on her shoulder affectionately.                               “I know.” She says, her cheeks rosy. “Now drink up!” 

Over the next hour and a half, all of the members of the team stuck their heads in to your office to say goodbye for the night, minus Hotch who was still in his own office. Well it wasn’t really an office, more like a room filled to the brim with file cabinets and loose files scattered everywhere, tall piles up from the floor of magnolia files and a tiny desk and chair. Finishing sorting the previous case files, you head up from your hobbit hole and to Hotch’s office. 

“Come in.” His deep voice says from his desk seconds after you knock. You take a step just inside the door.                                                 “Have you finished processing the new files?” He didn’t even look up as he answered.                   “Not yet.” Cold as always, his pen was still gliding across the page. You nod as if he can see.      “Do I have to sign anything?” You ask and swing your arms back and forth from the doorway.        “Why would you have to sign anything?”                                                       “I threw a knife at an unsub and killed him.” You deadpan, assuming that you would have to sign a form of some sort.                                       “It was self-defence.” He states quickly, finally looking up from his work. His sleek black pen is sat gently on the desk and he links his fingers together. “Sit.” He nods toward the chair in front of his desk. 

Your feet drag along the grey carpet, feeling as if you were being called to the principal’s office. But that principle is your boss and extremely hot. When you first started working for the team, everyone knew about your crush on Hotch. Who wouldn't? However, a couple boyfriends and flings later, you had gotten over it. More like gotten better at hiding from a group of profilers. “Are you ok?” He says, finally making eye contact with you.                   “I’m fine.” You reply as he scans your face for microexpressions.            “You don’t have to be fine.” Hotch speaks softly. “You almost died.”                                                You’d never seen that look in his eyes towards you before. It was care.                                        “Better me than Em or JJ.” You shrug. “That's why JJ didn’t leave me all night, she knew he was there for them.” You notice shock cross his features. “After years here, I’ve picked some stuff up. Including talking a man with a gun to my head down, well close enough.” You attempt a joke but you’re met with a blank stare. 

“Well done.” He says and a flush crawls its way up your skin.                “Thanks.” You mutter averting your eyes, fixing on the plate that read his name, the praise getting to you.                                       “What did you say to distract him?” Hotch asks his attention solely on you.                               “Well he wanted a fed, I told him I wasn’t one, I wouldn’t get him any rep in prison as I’m not important and then he tried to shoot me, I threw a knife at him.” You say. “That’s it simplified.”     “Why’d you throw the knife?”                                                                         “I realised he was just a man.” You watch Hotch furrow his brow, wondering what you meant. “He told me that he was a God and that Gods don’t die. But men die.” You look up at him once again. His eyes were a dark brown that matched his dark personality and cool demeanour.                                                                                                          “Yes. They do.” You knew your conversation was over as he picked up his pen and began to write again. 

Nodding awkwardly, you get up from the uncomfortable wooden chair, which was made to be that way to stop visitors from sitting too long and taking up to much of his time. You knew there was no way he missed your reaction. He was a master in micro-expressions and your expression had nothing micro about it. Embarrassment, is what you felt as you sleuthed out of his office and scurrying down to your dim, hobbit hole of an office. Quickly, you shoved all of your stuff into your bag, files that needed to be processed, spare clothes that didn’t make it into your latest go bag and your travel mug. Slinging your handbag over your shoulder, you make your way to the elevator, ready to go home for the weekend.

 The button reading -1 lit up after you press it. The silver metal doors begin to slide shut.              “Hold the doors.” Hotch’s voice carries and you stick your hand in between the doors and they slide back open as he jogs over. “Thank you.”                                                                     “No problem.” You say calmly, internally, however, you were kicking yourself for not leaving five minutes earlier. The two of you stood in silence as the elevator started to move downwards, him gripping onto his black leather briefcase. You do the same with your handbag. After what seems like hours, the doors finally open in the car park. Giving your boss a small and awkward smile, then pretty much running away from him and to your small car. 

Just as you pop open your car door you hear Hotch call out your name.                                        “Sir?” You ask, confused about why he was running toward you, his tie swinging back and forth.                                                                             “Um.” He started, Aaron Hotchner looked nervous. “You are important. To the team, I mean. We couldn't do this without you. It would have been just as devastating if you had died.” He finished. The shock was obvious on your face as you stood there with your mouth wide open.                                                                                             “Sir…” You had run out of smart things to say as you just stared at him blankly.                  

“Most of all, you are important to me.” He made direct eye contact as he said that and it felt like you have been punched in the face. You were speechless. “And call me Hotch, or Aaron, not Sir.” After that, he gave you a nod before walking off to his own car.                                       “Goodbye, Aaron.” You called out as he disappeared around the corner. His name felt strange in your mouth as if it didn’t belong there. Standing there for a moment, staring into the empty abyss of the parking lot.                    

The comfort of your car was no help either. You grip the steering wheel tightly until your fingers turn white. The heating turned up at full blast and did nothing to deter the goosebumps all over your body. All it had taken was 8 words from Aaron Hotchner to render you completely incapable of any normal thoughts. 

[jareaulover]

Okay Okay Okay

I haven't done any Hotchniss stuff (I might add it to my list of things I'm willing to write, but I'm not sure yet) but here's this

In the first episode, Aaron and Haley are discussing baby names, right? One of the names Aaron suggests is "Sergio," which it was a joke but but but what if Aaron actually really liked that name.

Aaron and Emily were on the phone a few days after Emily gets her new kitty.

She's probably sitting on her bed, petting the small kitten, who's definitely asleep in her lap. She's talking in a hushed tone to her (probably secret) boyfriend saying things like "I just don't know what to name him," and maybe she mentions some names that the others suggested.

Aaron smiles as he listens to her list off the names that the others had suggested. And he listens to her say that none of the names really seemed to fit. Aaron looks over to see his little boy asleep on the couch, where he'd been watching a movie.

He thinks back to that night with his late wife, the night they were discussing baby names and he thought of his little, laughed off suggestion of "Sergio" and, yeah, maybe it wouldn't have been the best name for their son... but

"What about Sergio?" He suggests when Emily finishes talking. She's silent for a few seconds, and he thinks she's going to laugh it off but...

"Sergio... I love that. It really fits him." Emily says, and Aaron can hear the smile in her voice.

"I've always kinda liked that name, honestly." Aaron said with a small chuckle, "And it just seemed like a good name for him"

"It really is" Emily says.

[masterwords]

I don’t know if you got that prompt but if not the three were their laughing and kissing between Hotch and Morgan ?

Laughing and kissing! Hotch smiles when he kisses and it's one of the cutest things about him. How about a little ficlet? Because I can't write full stories right now apparently.

**********

"First childhood crush...what show?"

"Batman." Hotch doesn't even give it thought.

"Batman?" Derek asks, one eyebrow quirked. Not what he expects. "Who?"

"Not fair, that's two questions..." Hotch is smiling wide and easy, eyes bright. He's manipulating the game. He doesn’t want to answer. "You owe me first."

"The Facts of Life."

"I never watched that."

Derek shrugs and his fearures melt into a dreamy grin. "Tootie," he says reverently like her name is an incantation. "Damn. She was fine. A little cute a little sexy, she had it all." Hotch leans forward and kisses Derek, soft at first, eager and searching and smiling. Derek almost takes the bait too. Almost.

"No no no, not yet...Batman. Who did it for ya?"

"You know me so well...guess..." Hotch challenges, smiling into another kiss meant to distract. He’s getting closer. It's not that he's ashamed he just doesn't like talking about himself. He'd rather hear more about Derek.

"Gotta be Catwoman, but which actress? Julie Newmar was a fox...but I think you liked Eartha Kitt and her sexy ass voice. Yeah?"

Hotch laughs and it crinkles his nose and his eyes become obsidian slits. He's blushing, a little flustered and asks "Is that surprising?"

"Maybe a little."

"Nice to know I can still surprise you."

"Yeah? Got any other surprises?"

Hotch's answer comes in the form of another kiss, this time accompanied by roaming hands that slip up under Derek’s shirt. He moves quickly, shifting and sliding, straddling Derek’s thighs, and puts a definite end to the conversation.

[empress-of-hugs]

A Stash Full Of Memories

Click on the title to read on AO3

“What’s this?” Aaron chuckled as he reached into the box that David had so carelessly left on the table. 

“Private,” he barked before he could stop himself.

Aaron pulled a face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to –” 

“I know.” Sighing, David wiped a hand over his face. “They’re pictures, trinkets, just… little things. They used to belong to Jason. You know, before he…” 

Aaron nodded solemnly. “I understand.” 

David watched his friend turn away from the box. A heavy feeling settled on his chest and his treacherous lips wouldn’t remain sealed any longer. “I loved him, you know.” 

Aaron nodded once more. “He was a hard man to like, but an easy one to love.” 

“Yeah…” David took a strengthening sip of his whiskey. He wasn’t going to say any more, he decided. The liquid gently burned his throat and warmed his cold heart. “Not like that,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if Aaron heard him, but he said it again, louder now. “Not like that. I didn’t love him like that. I was – no, I am still in love with him. And some days I don’t know how to go on without him. There are days I don’t want to, either.”  He didn’t look at Aaron, but still felt the younger man’s examining gaze. After a handful of seconds, a warm hand landed on David’s shoulder. “I know,” Aaron said softly. 

[reasonablerodents]

So for your drabble requests collection. I would love it if you could write a ficlet about vampire Hotch having a thirst for Spencer, who's so beautifully willing (read horny) when he at last dares to drink from him.

I am nothing if not an absolute simp for absolutely anything to do with vampires and this is just suuuuuuch a good prompt!!!!! I had so much fun writing this and listening to Bauhaus and The Damned, really getting into those spooky (and hopefully) sexy vibes.

There’s no real description of the environment in this but feel free to imagine the most ott Anne Rice sort of deal because that’s totally what I was thinking.

Sanctum Sanctorum (M)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Vampire AU, Blood Drinking

* * * * * * * * * *

“Please,” Spencer breathes, tilting his head to the side to expose the delicate blue veins in his neck. “I know that you want this, Aaron.”

Of course he does. How, in any possible universe, could he not? Resisting the urge for this long has been torture, just as painful as a silver crucifix being pressed into his skin- and he knew how much that hurt, still had the scar to prove it.

“You need to be sure, Spencer.” Hotch tells him seriously, although if he had a heartbeat he’s sure it would be faster than it’s ever been. He cups Spencer's jaw with one cold hand, making him look directly into his eyes. “If I do this, we’ll be linked forever. Drinking directly from someone isn’t the same as blood that’s been stored, you know this. There’s nothing I’ll be able to do to sever our bond.”

“I know,” Spencer agrees, his sincerity visible even in the dim moonlight. “And that’s why I want it. I want you.”

Hotch knows that there’s no point in arguing further. Spencer had been trying for months, almost immediately after they’d started these midnight trysts. Every time, he’d got closer to giving in, a little more of his resolve weakened. By this point, the wall surrounding his urges was little more than a pile of rubble.

He uses his grip on Spencer's face to tilt his head further to the side, getting him exactly where he wants him. One hand goes to Spencer’s thigh, just close enough to his crotch to be tempting but too far for any actual contact- after all, Spencer had been teasing him for this long, it was his turn now.

Hotch gently lowers his head, licking over Spencer's neck in preparation, feeling the warmth of the blood as it rushes under the thin skin. He doesn’t need to breathe, but he does so anyway before he opens his mouth properly, indulging in one final nod to humanity before it leaves him completely.

The second Hotch’s fangs pierce him, Spencer moans, eyes fluttering closed as his lips open, his breath coming out in short pleasured gasps. Hotch can quite literally taste his arousal; it flows through his blood like a perfume, sweet yet dirty, a filthy and hedonistic undercurrent to it all.

He grips harder onto Spencer’s thigh when the younger man tenses up with another low moan, automatically jerking up into the air in a desperate search for friction.

“Please, Aaron,” he whispers reverently. “Touch me.”

[leo-gold-hotchner]

While asleep

Last semester of uni, especially stressful after I got approved to do an honours project. So... just a simple peaceful ficlet.

Aaron Hotchner X G.N. Reader

When you entered your bedroom, the small lamp at the side of your bed was lit. Your brows shot up a little as you saw your husband already asleep. Aaron never slept until you were back home. Besides, it was pretty hard to see Aaron sleeping unless it was a lazy morning. You quietly walked around the bed to see him sleeping. His stomach was flat on the mattress while the side of his face was buried in his pillow. He was facing the side where you slept. Probably, he fell asleep while waiting for you. Aaron must’ve had a tiring day. You lightly brushed his cheek, and he didn’t even stir one bit.

“Hi, love,” you whispered quietly, not wanting to wake him up.

Aaron, in sleep, mumbled something as if he heard your whisper. You paused a bit and decided to have a shower a little later.

“Did you say something?” 

Then you rolled your eyes to yourself. ‘Must be tired, talking to a sleeping person,’ you thought.

“You.”

You definitely heard Aaron mumbling.

“Me?”

Aaron hummed, his eyes still closed and looking naturally asleep.

“Who’s me?” 

“Whoo-me.” Aaron’s voice was so low, and you laughed. Sometimes Aaron was adorable, and you were so glad it was you who could see this side of Aaron Hotchner.

“F/N, that’s my name,” you smiled.

“F/N,” he mumbled. “My F/N. I love F/N.” Then he didn’t say anything even after you talked to him for a second. So you let him sleep peacefully.

            -----Hotch-----

When you went to the kitchen the next day, Aaron was already making fried eggs for breakfast. 

“Good morning,” Aaron smiled and turned his attention back to eggs. “I didn’t know you returned.”

“I know,” you chuckled. “Do you remember talking to me last night?”

Aaron blankly stared at the eggs for a moment. “I did?” He then removed the fried eggs from the pan and lightly coated the pan with oil.

“And you confessed your love to someone.” You made a mocking pout.

“Huh.” Aaron cracked two eggs, and the eggs soon made sizzling sounds. “And did you tell me you love me too?”

“Why do you think you confessed your love to me?”

“Because I know who I love,” Aaron said simply as he shrugged.

You just looked at his back. That simple sentence made your heart jump wildly. 

“F/N?” Aaron finally turned back.

“I love you, Aaron Hotchner,” you finally breathed out.

A lazy smile spread on Aaron’s face. “I love you, F/N.”

[promptthebear]

Your fans miss you

Hi I'm sorry 💔 💔 💔 💔

I know I've been gone awhile and that people are still waiting on requests. I miss you guys. I miss writing. Unfortunately up until pretty much this week I was stupidly busy. I switched to a new job at the start of October. It's great and pays more, but I'm also working more hours in a day and it takes more out of me. I was also doing night classes to improve my qualifications for said job and just handed in my last assignment before winter break this past Wednesday. Basically to sum up, I didn't have enough hours in the day or enough brain cells left to make the words go until very recently.

There's an Aaron Hotchner ficlet I have in the works that's like maybe 98% finished and now that I have a second to breathe, hopefully it'll be done soon. I'll include a little excerpt of it below the cut to give y'all an idea of what's coming. Thank you once again everyone for your patience. I'm not dead or gone. Just exhausted. There's more coming I promise.

Aaron wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, coming home from a case well past midnight but it certainly hadn’t been this. Standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom, gun holster still attached to his belt and briefcase still in hand, it was all he could do to keep his mouth from dropping open as he stared at the display in front of him.

“Babe? What do you think?”

You were spread out on the bed, waiting for Hotch like an all you could eat buffet. The lingerie ensemble you’d chosen was one of his personal favourites, a royal blue chemise and thong set made almost completely out of lace that showed off the very best of your assets while still leaving something to the imagination.

This alone would’ve been a treat, but it was the swirls of golden pigment that decorated your arms, legs and collarbones that caught his attention. You’d seemed to have paid special attention to your inner thighs and breasts, with those two areas sporting the highest concentrations of gold. Each time you moved, the light from the bedside lamp made your skin glitter with an almost magical lustre. You looked inhumanly beautiful, like a piece of living art.

“Babe?”

Hotch opened his mouth to answer you, only to close it again seconds after. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears was making it difficult to think, let alone speak, and the fact that all the blood in his brain was now rushing straight to his cock wasn’t helping matters.

[maschotch]

As a gay lady who's kinda obsessed with Hotch for some fucking reason, tumblr is kinda painful. There's so much hotch x reader and nobody (exaggeration) tags their shit right so I can avoid it. Thank you for just posting this loser. Also your ficlets are great. Also I appreciate the Emily supremacy. Have a great day.

the way i have “aaron hotchner x reader” “hotch x reader” “reader insert” “x reader” all blocked and i STILL get bombarded with those fics if i dare to go through cm tags… truly unfortunate

i just want to stick him in a jar and maybe shake it around every once and a while.