i'm super disconnected because i moved house 🥳and i still can't get wifi🥲it's my first time hiring services that kind of thing and i'm not sure i know how to do it completely on my own, it makes me nervous 🥹💔
anyway, i'm writing this quickly from the office (don't tell my boss pls) ,i want to know everything about u, i'm so worried about how the exams are going!?🫥
i love u, my love, u are everything to me, pls take care!🥹🤍
kisses and hugs and between kiss and hug i tell u how much i miss u 😭😭🫂😚😚
xoxoxo
hello my princess!!!!
first of all i’m soooooo sorry it took me this long to properly answer you💔
i was trying to be less on my phone bc these past few days i’ve been feeling kinda ill😭 obviously apart from all the shit I’m dealing with to finally graduate college! i did pretty good on the exams so YAY! thank you for asking my lovely <3333
omg i’m sooooooo happy for you!!!! how are you liking your new place so far??? i know this things can get us nervous, especially if it’s your first time leaving alone (idk if you are or if it’s the first tkme, i just figured!) but you can do it!!!!! it took me so long to get on this damn app you probably have it all figured out already lmao! but don’t ever forget your bestie here is always rooting for you!!!
and don’t you worry this will be our little secret 🤐
i miss you sooooooo much i miss writing i miss reading i miss watching cm 😭 oh lord i miss hotch
love you baby!!!!! pls forgive me and keep the updates coming!!!! i love hearing from you my sweet gorgeous baby girl 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
don't forget to drink water and that i love u more than anything!😌💗
xoxoxo
hello sweetie!!!!
i did good on the exams thank you!!! finally on my last couple months of my university life and jesus christ i’ve been busy😭 honestly counting the minutes for this shitshow to be over!
i miss writing so much, i feel terrible for being this absent on here!!!
how are you my lovely???? truly hope you’re doing good and that the days are being kind to you honey!
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: it was long since you stopped being just aaron’s plaything, even though he refused to acknowledge it. but everything changes when, after a mass shooting, he almost loses you.
content/tw: mass shooting, hostage situation, deaths, r is taken hostage, age gap, situationship (?), criminal minds level of violence, lmk what else, sugarbaby/daddy relationship (barely mentioned)
word count: 4k
a/n: based on this request! it always takes me so long to write because my brain is fucking broken and i’m apparently incapable of writing something without giving 1-2k of backstory and i end up taking to damn long to finish... i hope this is good, rn i’m kinda hating myself, ngl. anyways enough with the pity party let’s love and make love! speaking of it, i LOVE you all 💗🪽💗🪽
dividers @uzmacchiato
masterlist
“Did you find something to eat? -A.H”
“barely. idk if 200 dollars will do the trick next time”
“All that sass won’t get you far. -A.H.”
“will it get you to finally admit how crazy you are about me?”
As expected, you didn’t get a text back after that.
Your relationship with Aaron was… not conventional. Late night calls, secret dinner dates, hurried sex, expensive gifts and no space for emotional connection.
At least, that’s how he would describe it. He was a busy man, almost twice your age and a big job with even bigger responsibilities than your younger-aged mind couldn’t handle yet – his words.
You saw right through him. He was indeed a busy man, and the age gap wasn’t something one could argue. But his job and responsibilities had absolutely nothing to do with his emotional unavailability. Instead, it had everything to do with him being scared.
Being scared of what it would mean to be in love, to care about someone like that again. It was a kind of fear that only someone who’s had that kind of happiness once just for it to be taken out of them could understand. He couldn’t let himself fall for it again. It was a bait, a trick. A mousetrap from the universe to check if he would dare to be happy again.
Spoiler alert: he wouldn’t.
Sometimes you would feel him getting too interested in what you had to say. Laughing about your jokes. Asking about things you mentioned once and thought he would bother to remember — like the hanging the last episode of your favorite tv show left you on, or that one friend who kept throwing passive-aggressive comments at you and you swore you’d do something about it.
You’d see the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t seeing. You’d feel the feather-like kisses he gave you when he thought you were asleep. You’d hear the words that he so stubbornly refused to let slip out of his mouth. He’s the profiler, true, but you’re not blind.
For that reason you tried, subtly at first, to get him to admit how he truly felt about you. But he always got impatient about not understanding your hints, and discretion was never one of your qualities. Then, you moved to being blunt. Just straight up calling him out, demanding an explanation. That ended up being worse, with him always panicking and leaving you alone, ghosting your texts and declining your calls until you ended up knocking on his door, wearing nothing but a trench coat and ready to take whatever breadcrumb he was willing to give.
So, you settled on a – not so – happy medium, giving him space to swallow his feelings, but always letting him know you wouldn’t be okay with this forever. Usually with a flirty text, or a mock threat, and sometimes even with half-hearted jokes. To which he’d always react with a huff and a roll of his eyes, – and if he was feeling particularly happy, a chuckle.
That morning was one of them. The two of you slept through his first alarm, only getting up too late for him to cook you breakfast – which he insisted had nothing to do with love, just good mannerisms. So, as he dropped you to your campus on his way to Quantico, he slipped two folded dollar bills on your bag as you gave him a goodbye-blowjob right at the library parking lot, and warned you to get something to eat.
Only when you were at the cafeteria across the street did you notice that they were one-hundred-dollar bills each, and you made sure to spend it, just how he’d like.
Trying to stop the twitch of his lips as he read your texts, even though no one was watching him, he put away his phone before he got too distracted by your words, and focused solemnly at the massive stock of reports on his desk.
The next time Aaron looked up from the papers was when Garcia straight up barged into his office, leading him to stop whatever he was doing and look at her. His colleague had a tendency to drama, but she would never barge in like that if it wasn't serious, he knew that. If that wasn’t enough of a tell, the horrified look on her face sure enough did the trick.
“Garcia.”
“Sir, mass shooting. It just happened. Hostage situation, right now. We need to–” he held his hand, already standing up and walking closer to her, gripping her shoulders and just then he noticed they were shaking.
“Penelope, breathe.” he ordered, urging her to calm down in that authoritative tone of his that always gets things done. As a proof, Garcia nodded, breathing slowly until her words stopped sounding slurred. “Where was it?”
“George Washington, at the lecture hall. There are 2 dead there we know of, but no one knows precisely since the building is on lockdown…” and it feels like everything else is on mute, because Garcia said the words.
George Washington, where he got his degree from. To where he was called to give a speech for the students a few months ago. Where he met you. Where he dropped you off this morning.
Where he was going to lose you.
On autopilot he walked away from his office, Penelope trailing right behind him debriefing the case.
“I want all the team there, get the cars ready. We leave in ten. You debrief the rest of them on the ride.” he snaps, not giving space to complaints.
During all seven minutes in which he took off his suit jacket and adjusted the velcro in his kevlar vest, he’s trying to call your phone. Touching your name shining in his screen and placing it on speaker, watching as the selfie you chose for your contact – against his will – blinks until the call falls.
He repeats the cycle all the way down the elevators, his scowl and the death grip he has on his phone being as effective as a shining outdoor in neon letters with a “stay away!” written in capital letters.
As the infamous beeps of his call not being picked up ring in his ear, he tries to calm himself down. He thinks you probably wouldn’t be there. The campus is huge, there was a high chance you weren’t there, exactly. You’d probably be in class right now, with your phone on silent. Maybe you're not in class, but just ignoring his calls as a way of punishing him for not admitting his feelings.
After not having any of his calls answered, while he’s on the passenger seat coordinating with other units, his mind wonders.
Then, he tries to negotiate. If you’re not there, he will admit. If you’re just messing with him and call him back in five minutes, he will give you a tiny lecture, but then will confess his feelings. He swears, he promises, he begs. Nonetheless, you don’t call back.
“What do you got?” Aaron asks the chief of the precinct who first got there, as soon as he gets within earshot. The man held out his hands, introducing himself with a polite nod. “Hothcner. How many dead?” he snaps, clearly not wanting to waste time. Behind him, Reid and Morgan exchange a hesitant look.
The captain stops for just a second, but soon is walking him to the FBI equipped van “Witness counted 5 deaths. We heard other shots since they locked themselves. We were only able to identify 3 of the bodies. 1 of them was sent to the Coroner's office.”
“The rest?” Morgan asked. He stops on his tracks, facing each of the members of the BAU with a dark expression.
“Still in there.”
“The other two.” Reid asks “Do we have their name?”
“Over there.” he points to another van “They’re talking to the witness too.”
Before the officer manages to get the words out, Hotch is already heading to said van. There were too many people. More than 30 students, about 15 employees. Professors and cleaning staff. None of them were you.
“We don’t have the time to speak to all of them.” JJ said, sighing. Hotch frowns, his eyes scanning them.
“We have to.” he says dryly, moving to coordinate the officers in order to get as many depositions as possible, instructing them to go directly at him if they have information that could help build the profile.
Time was flying by, but they got something. One of the witnesses, the only one who managed to get out of the lecture hall before they locked themselves out, saw it. Two shooters, covered up and down. One of them was taller, broader. The other was smaller, thinner and curvier. They thought it was a girl, but that was just guess work.
More than ten of the witnesses agreed that the taller unsub was the head of the operation. They were armed to their teeth, backpacks and machine-guns, two each. None of them saw their faces which was a good sign – As good as something could be in this situation.
If they didn’t want to be seen, they wanted to escape. If they wanted to escape, they needed to negotiate. And if they wanted to negotiate, it was just a matter of time for them to make contact.
Then, they waited.
For a lack of a better word, it was torture.
Aaron felt his limbs go numb, he was close to getting tendinitis from the position of his thumb, hovering over your contact, calling from time to time just to see if you’d pick up. He hoped you’d wake up from a nap, hoarse and amused voice calling him a psychopath for all the missed calls, and would tease him at how obsessed he was. This time, he would agree.
But it never happened, and every time his call went to voicemail, he got even more bitter.
It was safe to say, no one on the team was immune to his snapping. From being ignored and interrupted to straight up yelled at, Emily was the one who stepped up to say something first.
“Hotch, what’s going on?”
“You don’t get it.” he said bluntly, his eyes glued to the last shots of the surveillance camera before the unsubs cut the power of the building.
“Yeah, we do. It’s our…”
“No. No, you don’t.” he snaps at Morgan this time, turning to see the confused and exasperated face of the team, eyeing him like he was a maniac. They were probably right.
Before any of them could say anything, the phone started ringing. Not his, the one from their van. The FBI one, from the number they gave the unsubs through the megaphone from outside.
Everyone rushed there, Garcia ready to trace it and try to get their name.
Hotch was the one who picked it up.
“Hey, there.” the unsub started, his voice syrupy from the other end of the line.
“Aaron Hotchner, I’m with the FBI.” he started, his voice much calmer than he truly was.
“Hmm, fancy.” the unsub mocked “Who else is over there?”
He glanced at the other members, watching if they were paying attention too “SWAT, HRT.”
They giggled “Oh, wow. And the media?”
Hotch sighed “Yes, on live. You have some people there with you, right? Want to let them go, so we can solve this racionally?” he offered, his voice soft and polite.
“Not really, no.” the unsub hummed, his voice carefree. Hotch bit the inside of his cheek to keep the composure.
“They’re innocent people. We shouldn’t let them get hurt, don’t you think?” he tried again. From the other line, they clicked their teeth.
“Not innocent, but I suppose I understand why you’d think that.”
Hotch’s ear perked up, immediately analysing their words “I don’t have all the facts. Why don’t you tell me?”.
“You’re right, you don’t.” the unsub snapped “So don’t get in my way.”
“I can’t do that.” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Worth a try.” the unsub chuckled “I want to negotiate. Is that the correct word? Just kidding, I know it is.”
“Perfect, let’s negotiate.”
“I want to leave, and I don’t want anyone following me. I want you to send all those fancy officers home, and I want to live.”
“That’s understandable.” he hums, trying to sound as open as possible “But I need you to release those hostages.”
“Do you think I’m dumb?” they yelled, and Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes in fear.
“Worth a try.” he muttered, and the call went quiet. Aaron looks at the team, confused. Just before he speaks again, he hears something. A laugh. A loud, humorous laugh.
“You quoted me, man. You’re funny. I fuck with you.”
Aaron’s eyebrows are arched so high they’re almost reaching his hairline.
“Since I like you so much, I’ll tell you what. Make another offer, a reasonable one. And I’ll hear it.”
“Give me the name of the ones you killed. And give me proof the rest of them are alive.”
“Hm.” quiet again “Counter offer, I tell you how many were killed and then, I’ll give you a proof of life.”
A minute passes with the call on mute. Garcia traced it, it’s one of the hostage’s phones. One of the witnesses recalls seeing them.
“Agent Hotchner.” a voice sings, and Hotch unmutes the call. Dozens of people surround him, trying to listen to the information closely.
“I’m right here.”
“So, before anything, do you want to take a guess?”
“Not really.” Hotch says between gritted teeth, patience hanging by a thread. The unsub laughs, again.
“Fine by me. Here we go: we have 7 casualties.”
The room stands still, looking at each other. It’s more than what they thought. If anyone saw Hotch’s fingers starting to shake, no one made a comment.
“Now the other part.” Hotch says quietly.
“Fine.” the unsub says, and they hear a few thuds, something falling and a loud cry. Aaron wants to interrupt, but he knows better.
“H-Hi. I’m Meghan.” a lady says between sobs, and she sounds young.
“Meghan, I’m Aaron Hotchner. I’m with the FBI. You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m scared. Please, hurry.”
“Meghan, listen. This is really important, do you recognize them?” he urges, controlling his voice to sound reassurance.
“Time’s up!” the previous voice sounds from afar, and the next thing they hear is the sound of shooting, and for what Hotch could count, they emptied their clip. “That was number 8.” the unsub speaks, clearly amused.
“How is that proof of life?” Aaron snapped, not caring if he sounded angry.
“Can’t you hear it?” they asked, and only then he paid attention: echoing through the call there were cries, sobs, screaming. He couldn’t count how many people, but a good amount.
“Every 5 minutes you deny what I want, I’ll shoot another one. Toodle-oo.”
And it was then, right before the call ended, that he heard it.
It was muffled, distant, but for him it was clear as the day: your voice. Even through the robotic sound of the phone call, he would be able to recognize you. At first he thought it was his name, a cry for help. But it was only when the call was hung up that he managed to figure it out.
“Ethan, don’t!”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It took them little to no time to realize that Ehan was the unsub, not a hostage. Garcia runs his name and records, finding out he was kicked out of college for assaulting students. He was in one of your classes, and if he were still a student, he would’ve been in that lecture hall as well. Though in the end it didn’t really matter, because he ended up there anyway.
The other unsub was girlfriend, Keira, and they refer to each other as partners in crime. She felt her boyfriend’s expulsion personally, and by breaking into their private chats, Penelope read that they planned to take revenge on everyone who contributed to it. Which, by their means, meant everyone who didn’t help Ethan.
Ethan had violent and narcissistic traits, including sex crimes records. Keira, on the other hand, matched the profile by her devoted submission to Ethan, aggressive posts on social media and the fact that, growing up, she was the main suspect of the mysterious deaths of the pets in her neighborhood. It wasn’t confirmed, but she moved out shortly after that.
“We have to make them turn against each other.” JJ asked. The team gathered to discuss their plan quickly, not wanting to dare to have more deaths.
“She recognized them, Hotch.” he said, quietly. “She saw their faces. You know what that means.”
He did know.
With a shaky breath, he answered “We’ve dealt with that before.”
“Let me talk to them. One last time.”
“Reid…” Rossi warned. They all catched on: Hotch knew you. But under those circumstances, no one dared to ask him the nature of your relationship. Spencer and David exchanged a glance, silently weighing their risks. It could make things worse, but right now there wasn’t another scenario. Especially with the minutes passing, sooner or later the number of deaths would rise.
“Hotch.” Reid insisted, firmly this time. Aaron was helpless, and his eyes showed it as he looked at the youngest member, trying to see a hint of uncertainty. Not finding any of it – or at least not enough for him to be untrustworthy –, he agreed with a sharp nod.
They gathered around the phone, and dialed the same phone number that called them. The phone rang only about 3 times before a voice answered.
“Just in time.” Ethan said, his voice condescending “Want to hear number 9?”
“No.” Reid said bluntly, looking Hotch in the eyes “The coast is clear, you can leave now. Leave the hostages there, don’t kill anyone else.” he spat fastly. The whole team widened their eyes, confusedly murmuring. Reid held his fingers high, warning them to listen.
On the other end of the line, Ethan panicked. He stuttered, sighed, and tried to play it off. Before anything else could happen, Spencer turned off the call, rising to his feet in a minute.
“It was a trap, they’re not planning on escaping.” he explained, moving with the team on his tail closer to the school.
After that it all happened fast, they coordinated with SWAT to burst into the building, the snipers on spot ready to shoot them. They’ve seen it before, something like that. The unsubs didn’t actually consider surrendering. The negotiating was nothing more than a strategy, to win time and to play with the authorities. To give them a sense of power, just to rip it off their hands.
They offered exchanging the hostages for their freedom, knowing no one would give them that. They would kill them all, and it would be the authorities fault. Contributory negligence.
Getting the unsubs by surprise, they managed to eliminate them without any other casualties. Reid’s theory proved right after they barged in. Almost 40 alive, 12 dead. They lied, planning to kill all of the hostages before the police came in.
Aaron wasn’t looking at any of them.
He scanned the crowd quickly, it took him less than 5 seconds to analyse the scene, to count the bodies laying on the ground. His subconscious registered the whole picture, but he was only looking for you. Amongst their faces of fear, the amount of people crumpled on the small stage, like a horror play you were all part of. He wasn’t ready to look for your body, not yet.
It took you little to no time to stand out, your face pale and your eyes blank, whole body in shock as you made your way out of the hostages piled up. He saw you walking, his legs working faster than everything else, making their way to find you.
The second you heard his voice calling your name, it was like you were taken out of a trance, blinking confusedly and only having time to look him in the eyes before your body crashed against his. Hotch wrapped your arms around you, his whole torso covering you up like a human blanket. His hands were on your head, your shoulders, your face.
You had blood all over your face, but it wasn’t yours. He held you in his arms, kissing your temples and shutting his eyes close as he felt your body shaking as you sobbed. He hated that he was hearing you cry, but he loved that he was hearing you at all.
Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just stand there in the middle of everything, hugging you close until all the panic left his body. He was on duty, after all.
But there was no way he would just leave you by yourself too. Instead, he helped the victims, guiding them out and taking them to paramedics. He coordinated the officers, the forensic team and the other FBI members at the scene. All that with you right under his arm, shielding you against everything and everyone.
The only time Aaron let go of you, was for the paramedics to check out on you. And even then, he didn’t leave your side.
After all the rush eased down, and all of the more injured victims were taken to hospitals, Rossi walked by, giving you a sympathetic look before patting Hotch on the shoulder.
“I got this. Go rest.”
Just another proof of how shaken he was, Aaron just nodded thankfully, agreeing without a fight to let things go for the night. He glanced at his team, making sure they were okay. Apart from the teasing glances, they seemed happy and relieved. With a small smile, he waved at them, turning his attention back to you and only you.
As the sun began to set, the headlights of the police cars and the streets shone against your face, and he frowned at the dried blood on the left side of your face.
“I thought I was going to lose you.” he said quietly, wiping your forehead with a piece of wet cloth from the van.
“Almost.” you tried to joke, but your voice sounded weak and wobbly. He gulped, his eyes solemnly focused on getting you cleaned.
“You took a serious risk by yelling his name.”
“I thought it was going to help.”
“You shouldn’t have.” he scolded.
“Did it help?”
“Yes.” he answered, because he realized that you needed to hear it. And because it was true “But don’t ever do that again.”
“I don’t plan to.” you joke again. Again, it doesn’t land.
“Why didn’t they shoot you?” he asked, this time quieter than the others, and looking you straight in the eye.
“He was going to, I was the next. You got there first. You saved me, Aaron.” you explained. Aaron nodded once, then twice. Then a third time, and he kept nodding like he wanted to confirm, he wanted to engrave it in his brain that he did save you, you were safe. Safe and sound and in his arms again. He wanted his mind to believe it, and his body too.
You saw the moment it settled: the threat was gone, you were alive. His stoic and stone expression melted, giving space to raw emotion. He was angry, and he was happy, and sad and relieved, and above everything he was in love.
‘Love’ was written in bold shining letters in his eyes. He grabbed your now clean – barely – face with his hand, cupping your cheeks and bringing his lips onto yours. He kissed you like his life depended on it, and on some levels it did. His tongue was on yours, he tasted like coffee and salt and life.
You kissed him back, his hands roaming all over your torso, your hands planted on his chest. It felt like the whole word stopped the moment you felt him whispering your name against your lips, urging you to never leave his side, ever again.
He kissed you, and you tasted your tears as he did. You smiled as his team wolf whistled in the back, and you giggled as he smiled too. It was traumatic, and it was sad. But you needed that, you needed that thread of life you found with him. You had the right to do so. You were alive, and you were his, and for now, it was all that mattered.
taglist: all hotch @winyourheartemma @marina468 all cm @s0urw00lf @deeninadream @khxna @bernelflo @pastelpinkflowerlife
u're back and I'm absolutely going to throw a party about it!💃🏻🥳🍸
i'm sure the exams will come out completely and absolutely fine, u're too intelligent and if not all of them come out well that's also fine, don't demand too much of yourself, but obviously i wish u the best always, the best grades and all the best to u!🥹🙏🏻💗
pls take care of yourself, stay hydrated and well-fed because sometimes exam nerves can be extremely EXHAUSTING🥹🙏🏻
🕯️✨🧘🏻♀️i manifest that everything will go well in ur exams🧘🏻♀️ ✨🕯️
and if not, then i can have a peaceful and civilized conversation with ur teachers😤
well, my god, u won't believe it, i dreamed about u🤫not in a weird way (i promise) more like i was checking ur blog and u were back🫨 is that weird? sorry if it is haha i really missed u!
and i can definitely imagine that dress and it sounds so beautiful🥲🥲i also loveeeeee weddings, whenever i go to one, i take ideas for when it's my own wedding. i already have everything... i'm just missing the groom, but those are just details. 🙏🏻😮💨😌
i love that we have a connection but honestly 💞💞 i don't like that it's reinforced because we fight with our parents and god how it hurts me to know that you cried yourself to sleep :(
our connection definitely cheers me up and makes me happy, but please know that i'm always here for u,talk, cry or just listen i'm ur girl🧍🏻♀️🥹💗🫂
i love october especially its colors and climates 🥹they seem so romantic to me, but i definitely love december even more,i'm excited because i'll be hosting 💁🏻♀️thanksgiving dinner, and i'm excited,is that weird, too? not many people like it spending hours in the kitchen or something, but for me, I already have everything planned, i just need to think about the dessert, so i accept suggestions. 👀
i hope u have the best start to october in the world, and when u read everything u have to read and see everything u have to see, tell me, i'm always looking for new things to see or read and ik u have good recommendations!😌🙏🏻
i send u all my love, enjoy ur readings and may october treat u so beautifully.💗🫂
Infinite kisses and endless hugs, a little tight for when u need them most.🥹🥹🫂🫂✨✨✨
my heart is with u 💗
✨i loveeeee u✨
pls let me know how u are, how u feel after that fight with ur parents (only if u want) 💗
xoxoxo
yaaaaayyyyyyyyy!!!!
i’m not completely 100% back yet bc uni life is literally kicking my ass. like i’m having so much trouble working out some admin stuff tomorrow morning i have a fight scheduled with the counselor!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m crashing out bad just thinking ab it makes me want to cry…
it’s such a breath of fresh air hearing from and talking to you again🥺🥺🥺 you are literally mt sunshine
thank you so much for caring my lovely💗 i’ll make sure to remember to take care of myself properly! and same goes to you little miss🧐 i want my baby girl happy and healthy and safe and hydrated and everything good!!! 🙂↕️ 💋
not weird at all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it’s honestly so sweet i honestly to god might cry right now. i loooooove our connection and honestly i missed you so much😭😭😭 you’re the sweetest most caring and amazing bestie ever
oh same. I want to be a fiancée so bad😭 i dream about it… no groom in sight for now though
omg omg omg i absolutely loooooove october!!!!! i love halloween, i love thematic things!!! right now I’m reading some short stories by edgar allan poe and dracula!!!! I’ll be doing the same thing on christmas (as i always do), and GIRL I’m excited.
i’m a disaster in the kitchen unfortunately 💔 but i feel you so much, i love throwing dinners and coffee parties and setting up the table 🥹 it’s honestly so exciting for me!!!!
i’m sooooo happy for you!!!! we don’t celebrate thanksgiving in my country but i’d love to celebrate it if you were the host! i’m sure everything will taste wonderful and look even better!!!!!! i want to hear how it goes💗💗💗💗💗
my sweetheart! please don’t ever forget that it doesn’t matter how quiet i’ve been on tumblr, i’m ALWAYS here for you! you can count on me for literally any and everything!
thank you so much for blessing my day with your words, you’re a light in my life and i wish you all the best, most perfect things in your life!!!!!
and i wish your days are being better than mine soon i’ll be free, pray for me❤️
i loooooooove you down!!!!! miss you everyday 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
i’m vibing with the aesthetics !! love the red leopard print ♥️ :) and the stars !! it’s so cute
YAYYYYYY!!!!!! i found everything on Pinterest unfortunately i’m not talented enough to make it myself ❤️ but i loved it!!!! so happy someone else liked it too <<<3333 thanks for letting me know you just made my night
i’m back and i’ll changey theme and I’ll write 18462 fics and I’ll answer all my requests and i’ll do a writing event and i’ll interact with every single post
hi baby, can u please come back? i miss u, i'm so alone in my mansion (tumblr)🥲
how are u, my beautiful gem!? i love weddings, and i can bet u were the most beautiful at that wedding (sorry, bride).🥵💗
i have office gossip🤭remember dariana? she resigned today and everyone went CRAZY and asked me if i knew something and if i knew lmaoooo but i said no , can you believe it!? i really do because well i don't know if i said it haha but another of my bosses didn't let her listen to music or eat comfortably, he always watched her and she started to feel uncomfortable, she even said that she felt a little harassed:( and i encouraged her to talk or something because i'm tired of men in general who think they can steal our spaces😕 nothing like that has really happened to me (luckily) but i think if it happened to me i would go crazy and burn down the office (i'm just joking) but in my opinion dariana endured so much, because believe me when i tell you that this man didn't let her do anything in peace, really nothing.
i am on her side one hundred percent even if it means i have to quit my job if her need someone to support her in the future, it will be me, because i have this life motto that says "i've been a woman for so long that it would be stupid to be against my species." 🫂
i also had a fight with my mom:( and i cried but now i'm a little better🥺
and that's my crazy life...
how are u, my love? i feel like a million billion years have passed since we spoke, and my heart aches💔i miss u so much And the first person i ran to tell this work thing to was u because ✨besties get information✨🤞🏻and because i know u will be sincere and give me another perspective that i value greatly.
how was the wedding? pls give me all the details and tell me about the clothes you wore that day, i know u looked great, pretty and stunning, but i'm a gossip🤭 and i want details about ur outfit👀👀💗💗
i actually want all the details of all the days that adult life came between us😔💗
i love u i love u i love u🥹🫂💗✨
i leave y a trillion kisses FOR EVERY DAY that we were apart and a trillion more hugs, tight and smelling of vanilla (i love the smell of vanilla) 🫂💗✨🫂✨💗🫂💗✨ have amazing days ahead, my beautiful little bear. 🥹🥹💗💗
did i already say i missed u and i love u?🤔
xoxoxo
hi there my sweetie 💗💗💗
god these past few weeks were ROUGH 😭 i’ve been studying nonstop for exams, and although i’m not over them yet, the worst ones are over! so i finally have a little time to check tumbrl and I MISSED YOU SO MUCHHHHHH
omg omg omg office drama hellooooooo i love it!!!!! YESSSS GO DARIANA!!!!!! i can’t believe i’m that happy for someone i don’t even know LMAO but you’re absolutely right, we have to fight for our places and for our safety! i always feel like one woman’s victory is all women’s victory🥹💗 i truly wish her the best, and that all those assholes in your office learn that we’re not to be messed with!!!!!!!!!!
you’re just joking but i’m not! IF something even remotely close to that ever happened to you, i’d find my way to your office and burn them alive HAHA let them know that…😡
i absolutely loved that quote, and i’m with you 1000000%
about your mom, i’m so sorry honey🥺 parents can be very hard… on the other hand, we’re literally so connected bc these past few days i also had a fight with my parents and let me tell you i balled my eyes out to sleep🥲 it’s very sad but maybe our connection will cheer you up?…
if you ever want to talk about it, i’m here!!!!! always🩷
i unfortunately have absolutely no gossip to share… i’ve spent the past few days studying so hard i barely could sleep! i think i went well on the exams but i’m still not sure… apart from that, i went out only one night with friends to drink and watch football and i ended up drunk out of my mind….
about the wedding!!!!!!!!! it was such a beautiful ceremony, i got emotional so many times😭 my dress was olive green and it was so pretty🥹 i can’t really explain it, but it had a sweetheart cleavage and it was verry well fitted around the waist! it was long and in a kinda sparkling chiffon (i think, I’m googling it LMAO) i’m not really into sweetheart cleavage, i don’t think it really values my figure, but the dress came with a chiffon fule to match and omg it was so elegant😍😍😍i absolutely loved it! I’ve recently cut my hair so i just straightened it and wore it down! and beige heels (that you could barely see it bc the length of the dress covered it up)
one more thing I’m excited about it’s October! i usually do thematic reading so i have a lot of horror and thrillers books/shows/movies to watch!! so I’m definitely excited!!!
that’s probably about it with my life updates…
i’m so so so so soooooo sorry it took me that long to answer you😭 and i missed you TWICE as much! Now i’m back better than ever and I’m determined to never EVER let it happen again❤️
sending you so much love, hugs and kisses you’d get TIRED of even hearing about it!!!!!🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 (i also love the smell of vanilla) i hope these past few days have been kinder to you than they were to me🥲 🩷 and that the next days may be even better!!!!!!!!
thank you so much for missing me and loving me 🥹 i feel so lucky to have you!!!!!!!
pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
summary: beth is coming back from hong kong and you feel like hotch’s feelings are slipping away, so you decide to do it first.
content/tw: brace yourself, it’s a long one! established relationship, beth’s coming back, jealous!reader, oblivious!hotch, dave being a father figure (love him), very angsty (at least my attempt), alcohol consuming (barely), lots of crying, happy ending, lmk if i missed something!
word count: 7.3k (stfu challenge level impossible)
a/n: based on this request! this one goes for my people who feel like they have to remove themselves from the situation for things to be okay. know that you are important, wanted and loved! if you ever had a girl crush, sending you an extra hug and much love! hope you like this one💗🪽
dividers by @uzmacchiato
masterlist
The smell of bacon and toast fills the air even before you step into the kitchen.
Aaron is there, scrambling eggs with his shirt still unbuttoned and his hair damp from the shower. He glances up when you step in, already dressed up “Didn’t have time to make coffee.” he explains, nodding to the empty coffee pot plugged on the counter behind him. You shake your head, squinting your eyes at his face.
“Aren’t you at least a little bit embarrassed?” you tease, already starting to brew the coffee beans. It has been almost a year since he bought it – following your suggestion – and he never even cared to learn how to use it. Not that he needed to, really. You were always there to do it for him.
He pressed his lips together in a mocking reflective expression, just to shrug his shoulders “Not really, no.” you just chuckle as the two of you move in sync to finish preparing breakfast.
Just as the eggs were ready, his phone rang all the way to his bedroom. As an old man who still hadn’t created the urge to be glued to his phone 24/7, you took over the bacon pan as he faded into the hallway to pick up.
You were so focused on your task you didn’t realize he was taking too long. It wasn’t until you filled both of your plates and mugs that you noticed he didn’t come back. Your first reaction was too tense, to go after him and check what was wrong, but soon after you heard his laugh, loud and strong, making its way towards you. So, no emergencies.
Sensing it was probably Sean, your boyfriend’s brother, or maybe Rossi with a gossip – something you learnt after you started dating Hotch: the two older men at the BAU were gossipers. Penelope Garcia level gossiper – you stayed back, giving them privacy to chat. Ignoring all the etiquette lessons you had, you started eating alone. At least one of you should enjoy the warm food.
Just when you took the last bite you heard him stepping back into the kitchen, a ghost of a smile still present on his face “Hey, you chatty” you teased. He chuckled, sitting beside you on the stoll and drinking a sip of coffee “Who was it?” your curiosity got the best of you, even though you knew he was going to tell you either way.
“Beth!”
Oh.
“Oh”
“Yeah.” he agrees, taking a bite of the toast, completely oblivious to the gut wrenching feeling taking over your senses “She called me to say she’s coming back. From Hong Kong.”
Oh (but harder).
“That’s… good?”
“It’s great! She got to transfer back for a promotion, with a higher salary and getting to be close to her family.” he explains, sounding way too pleased with himself.
“She rocks.” you cringe immediately, not knowing what the hell you meant by that.
“Right?” fortunately – or not, that’s up to the eye of the beholder – he remained completely clueless to your awkwardness. “Jack’s going to lose it when he hears it.” he said, chuckling to himself.
You hate how hearing this makes you twice as jealous.
“Y’think Jack remembers her?” you wonder, pretending to be unbothered as you wash your dishes in a way to distract yourself. He stays silent for a second, and you hope he’s not picking up on your selfish rotting for the worse.
“He does. Last time she face-timed me, Jack took over half the call.” he says, his voice suddenly closer to you. He takes the dishes from your hand, gently pushing you to the side “That’s on me.” he points kindly, taking over the dishes. You step away, hoping he didn’t feel the sound of your heart breaking.
They face-time each other? Is Jack a part of this? By the way he said it, it seems like a frequent occurrence. Where were you all those times? How could you miss that?
Is this cheating? Objectively speaking, if it was cheating he probably wouldn’t be so blunt about it. And he’s probably the most loyal person you know.
So why does it feel like cheating? Why do you feel betrayed? Why do you feel so jealous?
Trying to take a hold of the situation, you fight to appear normal, trying your best to hide your anxiousness and all of self-doubt, at least while you figure your feelings out. Otherwise you’d probably end up locked in a mental asylum.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It turned out the mental asylum would probably be a nicer place to be than your own head right now.
As the day passed by, you started to notice how excited Aaron was for Beth’s arrival. If you missed their calls before, you definitely weren’t now. Every other day you stumbled on him somewhere in the house, his phone balanced between his shoulder and his ear while he finished a task.
When it wasn’t the calls, it was the texting. He would send her pictures about things she liked and places she missed. She would always send a picture of everything that was different over there, ask silly questions about the job or about Jack.
And Jack was a whole other problem. Not a problem, actually. But his obvious adoration towards the woman made you bitter. You found yourself losing your appetite more often than not every time Jack asked about her in the middle of dinner or lunch. Which was a horror on its own, but it was even worse because every time he did it, soon after the meal ended Hotch would call her to tell her about it.
You felt like an outsider.
The worst part was that it wasn’t even their fault. Everytime you walked by him, he asked you to join the call, pulling you to sit with him and chat with the woman on the other side of the screen. She would ask about you, about your likes and dislikes. She would joke about Hotch, about his sleep myoclonus, about his ability to fall asleep in the first few minutes of a movie. You laughed with her, making fun of his antic habits as if sharing that with her didn’t feel like a knife in your gut.
When she finally came back, it was, somehow, worse.
Hotch insisted that you’d tag along on their catching ups, you hang with them as she went out with the team. You had playdates with her and Jack.
It was now safe to say: you hated Beth. And you were completely obsessed with her.
You watched the way she spoke, the way she dressed. How she smiled, how she laughed. The exact color of her lipstick, her haircut.
When her nails were perfectly made. She was so elegant. You started doing your nails weekly.
Next time you saw her, her nails were chipped and two of them were broken. She was so carefree. You cancelled your membership at the nail salon.
One would think Beth was a frequent character in Hotch's life. She really wasn’t. With all the cases, Jack and his relationship with you, he barely had time to actually hang out with Beth. But there was no point, and the damage was made.
Ever since he took that call, she made her way into your head, building her own little house with a balcony and a white fence. Even if she wasn’t around, your mind made sure to think about her. You hated hearing her name, but you secretly hoped it would come up in the middle of the conversation.
When his phone rang, you braced yourself, preparing for that gut wrenching pain you were oh, so familiar with. 9 out of 10 times, it wasn’t her. But 1 out of ten times, it was. And when you hear him calling her name, smiling easily at the speaker like she was seeing him, you felt your world fall apart, and what a comforting sensation that was.
You had no idea how you could crave someone as much as you craved her.
You wanted her gone.
The thought came to you out of nowhere, in the middle of the night. You were sleeping on his bed – almost yours by now – and his body involuntarily jerked. And there it was: another sleepless night. You were reminded of her, and now you were cursed to spend the rest of the evening wondering if she slept on the same side of the bed you were in, on how she would react. Would she laugh? Would she wake him? Would she pretend she didn’t see it?
It was maddening. It had to stop.
It wasn’t going to stop. You had to get out of this.
When the thought came, it stayed. You haven’t thought about it before, but you knew it. It had to be done. There was no way you would survive this. There was no way you could compete with this, with her. They understood each other to a degree you could never. They were the same age, and had the same references. They were both divorced, they had experiences you still haven’t had. You hated being outside of their inside jokes, even if said jokes were whatever was fashion in the 70’s.
Truth to be told, you wouldn’t even be with him if she hadn’t moved out of the country. And now she was back, reclaiming her old apartment, her athletic habits and his heart.
You weren’t dumb. You could see he loved you. But he loved her too. And you wouldn’t settle for half. Even if it killed you inside.
Besides being younger than Aaron – and Beth – you were very mature. Mature enough to understand that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. You knew, usually, the right thing to do was to talk about your feelings. To explain where you were coming from and make changes in order to keep the relationship alive.
But how could you go to the man you loved and beg him to not fall back in love with his ex? What exactly do you want to achieve by talking to him about it? He wasn’t doing anything wrong, you know that much. He would probably just stop talking to her ‘if it meant not making you insecure’, but you know very well how that would turn out. You didn’t want it to end with a fight, and you didn’t want to feel like you had to put up a fight to keep the man you love. You didn’t deserve that, and neither did him.
So, piece by piece, you started to make your way out of Aaron’s life.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You usually spent the majority of your time in his place. And you started to change that, slowly starting to spend more time in your rented apartment than in his. Piece by piece, you started to move back your clothes. First a blouse, then a pajama. Evolving to your dresses, shoes, and your products.
It was going by unnoticed, until after you moved almost all the products on your side of his bathroom’s cabinet. A wednesday morning, while getting ready to work, you opened it to find everything back where they belonged.
You stayed there, shocked for a few seconds, your heart racing. The toothbrush inside your mouth is frozen, the minty foam starting to burn your gums. Aaron stepped on the bathroom behind you, fixing his cufflinks and looking at you through the mirror.
“Oh, I saw you ran out of them.” he explained, casually pointing at the new stack of products, completely unaware of your mind short circuiting “You didn’t restock, but I remembered them from last time. I had to go to the drugstore anyway.” he shrugged, reaching for his cologne and stepping out like he didn’t just shatter your whole world.
Later, when your tears smudged your mascara, you just said you choked with the mouthwash.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After a while, you’d spent so much time on your own place that Aaron started to miss you. Not only that, he questioned it. One specific morning, you were in the shared kitchen in the BAU mixing a bowl of yogurt with cereals and fruits when you felt a pair of large hands clinging to your hips. Yelping in surprise, you turned to face your boyfriend.
“Hey, you scared me.” you chuckled, picking up the bowl to put something between the two of you.
“I miss you.” he said, simply. He wasn’t whining, or complaining, or even trying to talk you out of your devious plan – not that he knew about it. He was just stating a fact, as clear as the day, the same way and tone he announced a profile or call a meeting.
Not knowing what to answer without breaking into tears, you stuffed a spoon full of greek yogurt, granola and strawberries into your mouth. While you did it, you mumbled something he couldn’t comprehend. Figuring you said you missed him too, he just moved on, leaning over your head to reach for the cabinet.
“Can I take you out for dinner tonight?” he asked, grabbing the freshly made coffee and filing his mug “It’s been a while since we left the house.”
You swoon at him, taking a deep breath before answering “It has. But I have plans.” you grimaced “Girls night.” you explained, chewing on the granola for longer than needed.
Aaron stopped for a second, his steaming mug already halfway to his lips. “Oh.” He wasn’t the kind of boyfriend to be in the way of your life, but he usually was aware of your plans. Not in a controlling way, but by knowing you, talking to you. And he was just realizing how it felt not knowing. He hated it. Not being a man to give up, he quickly came up with another idea “I can make you that BLT you like while you get ready.” not seeing you immediately jump with joy – as you usually do when BLT is mentioned – he suggested “Or we can stop at McDonalds drive-thru when I pick you up later.”
Your heart did a backflip and shattered in a thousand pieces with the sight of his puppy eyes, expectantly looking at you.
“Oh that sounds lovely. But the bar we’re heading it’s the one across the street from my building. We’re walking there.” you explain, placing a hand on his chest gently, fixing the lapels of his suit. He looked down at your hands, fighting the urge to pull you by his arms and lock you in there. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but his gut knew something didn’t sit right.
“Text me when you get there. And when you get home.” he says, more a statement than a request. Your safety was not negotiable. You nodded, stepping closer to him and giving him a quick peck on the side of his jaw.
“I promise!” and you meant it, winking at him as you move to leave the kitchen.
Just as you step outside the perimeter, you almost bump into Rossi, who’s just standing there with his hands buried in his pockets and his eyebrow raised so high it was almost blending his hairline. Not ready to handle his piercing gaze – knowing you’d crumble at the first couple minutes –, you just nodded and gave him one of your best polite smiles, speeding your pace all the way to your desk.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After you knocked twice on the office door, you stared at the words “David Rossi” engraved on the metal platter in its center as you waited for him to open.
When he did, you were surprised to see his office drowned in low light coming from the lamp on his desk and the moonlight peeking through the widow.
“You wanted to see me?” it meant as a statement: he did ask to see you. At first, you were sure it had something to do with the case you were consulting, the topic you and him were talking about during dinner. What confused you was that the setting looked anything but professional, if the expensive bourbon bottle and the two glasses sitting on the table wasn’t enough of a tell.
“Yes. Come in.” he said, waiting for you to walk into the office to close the door. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for him to take the lead. Unaware – or, most probably, choosing to ignore – your startled state, he slowly made his way to the couch on the back of the room, filling up both glasses before sitting comfortably.
Taking one of the glasses, you sat beside him, pressing your lips together and trying not to bounce your leg to ease the tension.
“How was girls night?” Rossi asks, raising his glass to his lips. He didn’t even look at you as he waited for your answer, his tone almost mocking you.
Having absolutely no idea what he was going with this, you decided to play along “It was fun.”
He nodded “I see.” You took a sip of your drink, trying to keep your posture. It didn’t work. As soon as the burning liquid settled in your stomach, you turned to face him. Terrible idea.
“Dave, what’s going on? What is this?”
“You know,” he started, completely ignoring your question “People may think about profiling as a criminal study. They think we have to learn about psychopaths, stressors, geography, and criminal patterns. That it’s about getting in the mind of crazy people and figuring them out.”
“And it isn’t?” you blinked, drowned by his speech.
“Oh, definitely. But it’s not just that. It’s about studying people. Feelings, motivations. Learning, understanding their behaviour and using it to figure out their intentions.”
And that’s when it hit you: he knew.
“We have an unspoken policy in the BAU: not profiling each other.” he began, turning his body to face you.
“So why are you profiling me?” you asked, voice edging and uneasy, desperately trying to stop him from putting into words. He ignored it.
“You’re breaking up with him.” Not a question, not a suggestion, and definitely not a doubt. “I know what this is about. Who this is about.” your chewed on your bottom lip, deciding on what to say.
“Please, don’t try to talk me out of it.” you beg, hating how weak your own voice sounds. He took another long and lazy sip, and you watched as the liquid clinged to his lips, the wet reflecting the low light of the lamp.
“I won’t.” he stared at you, his eyes squinting slightly “I’m here to encourage you.”
You frowned, your eyebrows pinching together “What?”
“Yes. You really should break up with him. You know, if you’re in such an unbearable relationship.” You roll your eyes, tilting your head back.
“Stop.”
“No, seriously. Do you think he’s what? Cheating on you with Beth?”
“What? That’s not what this is about. I know he’s not cheating.” you defend yourself, cringing at the topic of the discussion.
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just…” your eyes burn with tears harder than the liquid on your throat when you down the rest of the bourbon before continuing “I’m not her.”
“You sure? Under this specific light I could’ve swore…”
“Dave!” you whine, and he chuckles.
“Yes, you’re not Beth.” you grimace at her name, not bothering to hide your feelings anymore “Why are you saying this as a bad thing?”
“Because it is. She’s back now and…” you feel a tear striking down your cheek as you gesticulate “She just fits. She gets him.”
“And you don’t?”
You sigh “You must think I sound really stupid.”
“Oh, you sound absolutely ridiculous.” you look at him, looking at a smirk on his face. Before you realize it, you’re laughing as well, but in a weak and depressed way “Love does this to us. Make us blind to the obvious. Clouds our judgement and turns us into…” he gesticulates towards you. You roll your eyes, but you’re not crying anymore “I have three divorces, so you’d think I know one thing or two about failed relationships. And let me tell you: yours isn’t one of them.”
“You’re just saying this because you’re his best friend.”
“I’m saying this because I love you.” he stated bluntly, and you widened your eyes in surprise, not expecting this. “And it'll kill me to see you do something I know you’ll regret later.” he leaned closer, looking at you with a paternal love that made you uneasy “Hotch loves you, kid. Don’t try to assume things. Let him know.”
“It’s hard.”
“I know it is. It has to be, don’t you think?” he smiles, the wrinkle on the corner of his eyes enhancing his passion towards the subject “Or else is not worth it. But talk to him. You know him more than I do, but I’m pretty sure you’re seeing things out of a place of hurt, probably past experiences.” he nod his head in a knowing gesture “From what I see, you’re out of your mind if you think that Hotch would ever consider living his life away from you.”
You only notice the tear streaming down your cheeks like a waterfall when his fingers gently wipe them away.
“Sorry.” you mumble, and he shakes his head.
“Listen, if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t. It’ll be fine too. You’ll be fine. But just don’t let it all go to waste before at least giving him a chance.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It got to a point where you had to stop for a second to wipe the sweat out of your eyelids to see. By the time you reached your – Aaron’s – front door, your heartbeat had lowered to a normal rhythm and your skin was now cold rather than wet. You spent almost the entire night awake, tossing and turning on the bed. The night went so late it was almost morning, so you figured it made more sense to just get up and do something other than to lay in the dark with nothing but your loud and torturous mind.
Running, these past few weeks, were your loyal ally to your early mornings. That specific day, you just got back from an over two hour long run, finally feeling your limbs hurting more than your heart. As you walked in, you were surprised to find Aaron pacing around the living room, something crumpled up on one of his fist, a piece of paper in the other.
When he looked at you, his face was everything but stoic: he looked panicked, tortured, confused and, overall, hurting. “We need to talk” he said, quietly. If you listened closely, you could hear the way his voice wobbled in the middle of the sentence, like he didn’t actually want to talk. Like he wanted you to just be confused, and just ask what he meant by that, and that you weren’t being distant, he was just paranoid. Anything that could prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that you weren’t, in fact, leaving.
Despite all his silent wishes you just nodded, making your way to the couch “Yeah, we do.”
Hoping the sound of his heart shattering wasn't loud enough for you to hear, he made his way to the couch in front of you, distant enough for him to think clearly – as much as possible, under the circumstances. For a minute you just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid so heavy it could suffocate.
You glanced down at his hands, still not managing to understand what he was holding so tight on his fist. On the other hand, you could finally see what it was. Before you left the house that morning, already planning on staying out for long, you wrote him a note with the steps to use the coffee pot.
“Before we start,” he began, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat before continuing “I already know. So there’s no need to lie.” you gulp, shifting in your seat. You never lied to him before, but it was fair of him to point it out. You weren’t being exactly honest. And even though you knew what he was talking about, it still surprised you when he finally said it out loud “When exactly you were planning on breaking up with me?”
Your breath hitched, panic rushing through your veins. It didn’t matter that you still weren't sure about what to do, there was no point in lying. Not anymore. It hurt you to think about it, but actually admitting to him was a whole other level of pain.
“I don’t know.” you answer weakly.
He blinks. And then chuckles.
When he dips his head down, you stare at him confused. The only thing you catch is the way his head shakes slightly, his fists flexing but never letting go of your note and the other white soft – looks fluffy? Is it a stress relief ball? – thing. Aaron tilts his head up and his eyes are full of tears. They are shiny and reddish, and you want nothing more than to make it all go away.
“Hotch,” you try, because just watching him crumble in front of you is not an option.
“Jesus! Stop calling me that.” he spat, frowning.
“Your name?”
“That’s not my name. Not to you. Not in here.” he adverts, the pain muffling the anger in his tone.
You chew on your bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes. Sniffing as quietly as possible, you look at him “Do you think this is easy for me?”
“It must be!” he says, barely containing himself, “You’re doing it all behind my back, vanishing from my life little by little, until all I have left is an empty drawer with nothing but this shirt and a coffee pot I don't know how to use.” and you finally understand what he was holding on so tightly. It’s a plain silky pajama shirt. It’s the only piece of clothing because it’s matching short you – he – ended up tearing it in half on the first night you wore it.
“I left you instructions.” you point to the paper in his other hand.
“I don’t want to learn.” he looks disgusted at the paper, like it personally offended him “I’m not learning how to use it.” he emphasizes.
You try again “It’s not that hard.”
“I won’t.”
That discussion was pointless, anyway. It is something to cling onto while avoiding the main issue. Sighing deeply in order to avoid crying, you change the subject “Listen, it’s nothing with you. It’s me.” you snort at that, because it’s that old cheesy and shitty excuse. But it’s the truth. “I’m just…” it’s all you manage to say before the tears blur your vision and you have to dip your head down to try and wipe them away.
His voice filled your ears, making you glance up to face him again. “I noticed that you weren’t being yourself, but I figured you’d tell me. It was something from work, or your family. I didn’t think it was this. It was us.” his voice weakens, and he has to gulp before continuing “Aren’t you happy anymore?”
“I… there’s a lot going on.” you feel your nose burning, and you stop caring if he sees the tears streaming down your face.
“Tell me what I did.” his demeanor changes, and he doesn’t look sad and confused anymore. He sounds energetic, urgent, demanding and begging all together “Tell me where I got it wrong, i can change it. I’ll do it right. I’ll do it better.”
Hearing this, combined with the raw desperation on his voice, so opposite from his usual calm and steady behavior, only makes you cry harder, and you don’t even try to wipe them away.
“You did nothing wrong. Nothing. I don’t want you to change. I just…” a strangled hiccup interrupted your speech, and you feel ridiculous, weak, dramatic and lonely. You want this to end, but also you want this to have never happened. “I shouldn’t feel this way in a relationship.”
He nodded, thinking. When Aaron speaks again, his voice is much calmer. Resignated, even. “So that’s it, then? You have your mind made up? Nothing I say will change it.” and it’s not a question anymore.
“I’m doing this for you, I want nothing more than what’s best for you.”
“Bullshit.” he snapped, his words startling you “Why are you doing this? Is it the job? You said it’s not me. Is it Jack? Is this life too much for you? The responsibility of…”
“What? Of course not!” your heart aches thinking about it. It hurts that he thinks this, but you have no one but yourself to blame “I love Jack. I love our… this life.”
He stays silent for a second, as if analyzing your explanation — or lack thereof. “Is it someone else?” you stop, and blinks. This is it. You won’t lie straight to his face. He stiffens, and it doesn’t need another word from you to understand. “Who is him?”
“Him?” you frown in the middle of your tears, so confused you stopped crying. “What do you mean?”
“You said there was someone else.” he squinted his eyes at you.
“I didn’t, you did.”
“You didn’t deny it. Who is he?” he insisted, his jaw tensed.
“Who do you think I am?” you asked, actually aggravated at his accusations “I would never…”
“Who is he?” he interrupts you, his eyes burning holes in your head.
“There's no he. It’s Beth.”
Hotch’s jaw is immediately unlocked at that, the anger and betrayal completely subsided by complete shock and confusion. “What? You and… Beth?”
“Huh?” you were the one left in confusion now. How did he get to that conclusion? For a second, you didn’t feel the excruciating pain and humiliation from admitting your feelings to him “No. You and Beth.”
“What do I have to do with this?” he asks, his confusion turning to aggravation once again “You don’t like our friendship? That’s why you're breaking up with me?”
Now, said excruciating pain and humiliation were back on its full force. You ignored the lump on your throat, taking a deep breath and explaining the situation in the most sober and objective way possible. “I realized you and her fit more together than me and you, and…” your voice faltered as you saw his outrageous expression “...the two of you only broke up because she moved away. You’re all happy that she’s coming back. I just figured…”
“What?” he interrupted, his voice sharp and edgy “That i’d break up with you to be with her?” asking like it was a ridiculous thought. You stayed silent, because that was exactly what you thought. He huffed an incredulous laugh through his nose “Jesus. Did I ever give you a reason to question me? Or my loyalty?” he accused, his voice showing more worry than anger.
“No. Actually I don't know if you’d break up with me. That’s why I saved you the trouble.” you shrugged, trying not to show how much it hurt you to say it.
“Jesus fucking christ.” he muttered, pintching the bridge of his noise “Are you even hearing yourself?”
“Stop talking like I'm insane.” you snapped, losing your patience “You’re the one making phone calls, facetiming and going on dates with your ex girlfriend. I saw you when the two of you broke up. I was there. You were in pain. How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to handle this? How am I supposed to compete with this? Explain to me, Aaron. Because I have no fucking clue.”
The moment you stopped speaking, you realized you were almost yelling. It was the first time you let out your anger, your hurt. All the time you kept saying you were doing the best: for Aaron, for Jack, for Beth… Not once you stopped to think how much it sucked to be you, to deal with all of that. Yes, you could’ve talked to him sooner. But you shouldn’t have felt like that. No one should.
When you asked him to explain, to tell you what to do, it wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t sass. You were actually asking, begging for him, for someone, to tell you how to feel. It didn’t make sense, none of this made sense to you. It was too overwhelming, and you just wanted it to be gone. You wanted to disappear.
You noticed too late you were crying, fully sobbing now, with one hand clutched to your chest, as if you tried to rip your heart out, and the other resting against your throat, trying to soothe the pain from talking so loud. You didn’t see how his expression softened, his anger melting into pure sorrow. He couldn’t believe he did that to you, that he, of all people, made you feel this way.
A few minutes had passed when he finally made a move. He got up from his couch and crossed the room, sitting right by your side. His knees were pressed against your thighs, his eyes filled with tears. His body and his soul were completely in surrender to yours.
“I’m sorry,” he said, simply. “I should’ve seen it before. I shouldn't have acted like this. Or at least, talked to you about it. I’m not trying to make any excuses for the way I acted, but I need to explain.” he cleared, his eyes scanning your face every 10 seconds, trying to find any hint of chance in your stance “The thought of someone other than you, in a romantic way, is so out of my reality that I didn’t even considered her a ‘threat’. Not that she, or anyone, is a threat. But I really didn’t see the situation as something that could’ve hurt you. And that was my first mistake.”
“She knows you in a way that I can’t.”
“You know me in a way no one can.” he argued “You were my subordinate, then my work colleague, my friend. Now you’re my best friend and my family. You’re the woman I love.” he gulped, flinching at his own words and feeling the hot streak of a lonely tear falling from his eye. The one he couldn’t hold back. “I don’t want you going back to being less than that.”
Your posture didn’t show any kind of surrender. But he didn’t see resistance either, and when you turned to face him, he noticed that you didn’t keep arguing and just waited to listen. Taking it as a good (the best yet) sign, he pressed further.
“There’s nothing going on between me and Beth. She happened to be the first friend I’ve had outside of the job for a long time, that’s all. I don’t know if it will help to hear this,” he tried, hesitantly “...but her leaving wasn’t the only reason why we broke up.” seeing your questioning expression, he kept going “We came to the realization we worked better as friends anyway, and it was just a matter of time for us to end things. The moving just happened first.” he shrugged.
You opened your mouth to speak, but he anticipated your argument “Yes, I did suffer. It was a change in scenario, how could I not? But as I said, we knew it was happening. So what it hurt the most was actually Jack. I felt like the worst parent from giving another sort of mother figure just to take it away from his life. Again.”
Before you could think properly, your hand reached out to his, squeezing in a silent reassurance. He always doubted his parental skills, and you were always making sure to remind him how amazing he was. Even now, with your heart broken and your relationship hanging by a thread, you still found a way to comfort him.
How could he lose something like this? Someone like this? How could he let you go? How could he make you feel that way? He had to press his lips together in a thin line to keep them from trembling, and to hold back the force of his grip when he squeezed your hand back, making sure he wasn’t hurting you as he not so subtly tried to hold on to you. To keep you from leaving.
“Honey,” he started, not even caring about his voice cracking. He couldn’t wait any longer, or lose any more chances. This was it. “I love you so much. I know this isn’t ideal, and I hate myself for ever making you feel this way. If not being with me will make you happier, then…” he gulped “...I’ll let you go. But if this situation is the only reason, please, don’t go. Please, give me a chance to show you how you’re the only one I want.”
You feel your tears running freely from your face, and you choke up a sob before speaking, your voice so weak it was barely hearable “I feel really immature.”
He laughs, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. It sounds like he’s gone completely mad, like your admission was the water bottle after two days in the desert. It gave him hope.
“No.” he denied firmly, not letting go of your hand even for a second “Now that I think about it, if the tables were turned, I might’ve murdered your ex.” he whispered like a secret. It was so unexpected and so out of character of him that you laughed, surprising both you and him. He smiled from ear to ear at the sound of it. “I’m really sorry, I should’ve been more careful with the situation.”
“I should’ve just talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions.” you smiled apologetically. He ignores your attempt, looking deep into your eyes and calling your name with such a raw expectation that if you weren’t already seated, you would’ve fell.
“Did you change your mind?” you hesitate for a second, and he sees right through you “Tell me you have. I know you want to, I can feel it.” His voice is quiet, his words so soft spoken it feels like a spell. Only you know that you do want to be with him, now that is all cleared. “Please, give me a chance to make things right.”
You chew on your bottom lip as your eyes fill with tears again “I feel stupid.” you admit, and he wants nothing more than to cry his eyes out.
“Don’t say that ever again.” he leans in hesitantly, and when you don’t flinch or pull back, he wipes the tears from your face with the pad of his thumb. The other hand is still holding yours firmly “You were protecting yourself, as you should’ve. Thank you.”
“What for?” you snort between tears, not understanding what he could possibly be thankful for in this situation.
“Thank you for protecting and taking such good care of someone I love so much. Especially when I was too damn blind to see that she needed it.”
After that, there was no point of dragging this any further: you were completely and undeniably his.
He didn’t see it coming, his body jerking in surprise when you literally jumped to his lap, hugging him tightly and burying your face on his neck, sobbing and muttering apologies on repeat. His lips were glued to the crown of your head, kissing you repeatedly. His hands were all over you, touching from your feet to the strands of your hair, as if his body needed to feel you there, to make sure you were with him, for his mind to completely wrap up around the fact that you weren’t going anywhere.
Ignoring your words, he whispered his own, “Don’t you ever apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” and it’s the only moment his lips leave your skin “I’m sorry. I will never make you feel this way. If I ever hurt you like that again, and I won’t, I want you…”
“Don’t say it.” you cut him off. He ignores, once again.
“...to just shoot me in the face. Kill me.”
You chuckle weakly, lifting your head from his chest to face him properly “Dude, you gotta stop with the murder threats.” he arches his eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.
“Dude? Who do you think you’re talking to?” he asks, and his finger tickles your sides as the stubble on his beard tickles your neck. Your body jerks and twitches on top of his while you laugh loudly, but never moving away from his.
When he finally feels you learned your lessons, his hands rested comfortably around your waist in its rightful place. You sigh, looking at him.
“Promise me that you will always talk to me, and be honest about your feelings. No matter how ugly you think they are.”
“I promise.” you say as you wipe the wet off his face, and it’s just then that he realizes he’d been crying all along “Promise me that if your feelings for me change, you’ll communicate.” he rolls his eyes so hard it feels like they’ll hit the back of his head “Promise.” you insist.
“I promise.” he says, seriously. When you relax, he starts again. “Matter of fact, my feelings just changed.” you squint your eyes at his playful tone “A few minutes ago I wanted to stop by your place to get back the clothes you took. But now, I’ve decided you’ll be spending the rest of the weekend with nothing to wear but that shirt.” he says, leaning – without moving you away from his lap – to grab the piece of fabric he left on the center table.
“I have to get at least underwear.” you argue.
“If you behave, I’ll let you borrow a couple boxers.”
“Jack will see it.”
“He’s a kid. And they’re the exact same size of what you call your casual shorts so I doubt he’ll notice the difference.” he points seriously and you squeal, slapping his chest slightly.
“That’s rude. And humiliating.”
“That’s what you get for stealing.”
Your mouth hangs open for a second “I didn’t steal! I didn’t take anything from your house but my clothes.”
“This house is ours.” he stares at you deeply, waiting for his statement to sink in before continuing “So is everything in it. From the bedroom to the coffee pot and, therefore, your clothes. So, basically, you stole from us.” he shrugged, like he made a perfect point. You just laugh, choosing to accept it.
“I’m sorry for stealing.” he nodded politely and you dive back into his embrace, sighing happily “Can we stay like this forever?” Aaron tight his arms around you, his whole body answering before any words came out.
“I’ll think about it. But before that, we have to eat. You're probably on the verge of dehydration right now.” he points, standing up with you still in his arms, and makes his way toward the kitchen. He settles you in one of the stools and hands you your shirt “Go change while I make us breakfast. Now that I’ve learnt how to use the coffee pot.”
You gasp, widening your eyes in a mock-threat. Jumping out of the stool with your shirt already crumpled on your hands, you stomp your way to where he stands behind the stove, pointing your finger to his chest. “You can cook whatever you want, but don't you dare touch the coffee pot, Aaron Hotchner.”
Aaron does just as you said, beaming while frying the bacon even when you’re upstairs in his shower. Your shower. And both of you know, somehow, you’ll be okay.
taglist: all hotch @winyourheartemma all cm @s0urw00lf @deeninadream @khxna
pairing: aaron hotchner x profiler!fem!reader
summary: after over a year of longing, you finally had a crazy stupid steamy hot freaky mind blowing sexual interaction with your boss (the two of you share a cigarette).
content/tw: smoking, alcohol, excessive use of the word cigarette (i’m sorry ab that), mention of having sex (past)
word count: 2.2k
a/n: thank you my man michael stirling for inspiring this <3 (when he was wicked, by julia quinn)
this is how i hope my nic break go during my nights outObs: please don’t try this, you guys!!!!
on a side note: thank you for being so patient w me! i love you all so much <3
dividers @uzmacchiato
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You flickered the lighter a few times, just enjoying the feeling of the warmth of the flame heating the side of your thumb. It was sort of relieving on a windy night like that.
The sound of the bar buzzed on your back, muffled by the closed doors. You were alone on the streets, apart from one or two cabs speeding away.
Inside, with the loud music and laughter, you couldn’t exactly feel the alcohol in your system. You felt yourself getting giddy and warm all over, but it wasn’t until you were alone with your thoughts that you actually felt that sweet dizziness and unworriedness that a federal agent could only achieve after four drinks.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, instead of going back to the table with your friends you decided to quietly slip outside for a second. You loved the team dearly, but sometimes you just needed a minute in silent, cold breeze and a menthol-flavored cigarette.
Eventually, you brought the lighter up towards your face, you flicked it twice to light up the cigar held between your lips, burning the end of it easily. Slipping the lighter and the pack back into your purse, you rested fully on the block wall of the bar, feeling the minty air filling up your lungs.
As you tilt your face up and blow smoke upwards towards the sky, you close your eyes with a content sigh, taking a second to fully enjoy the way your head instantly became lighter and your limbs softer.
Being so caught up with the moment you didn’t even hear the sound of the doors opening to let someone out of the cramped bar.
“You really shouldn’t keep your eyes closed in the middle of the street that late.” you heard a deep voice beside you break the silence of the night. Not even having to look at the person, your relaxed face morphed into a wide grin.
“I do have captain america as my boss so I’m not really worried.” you joked, taking another hit of the cigarette. Only when you heard him huffing a laugh did you open your eyes, but still didn’t face him.
“Alright.” Hotch hummed annoyedly, but you could hear the smile on his voice. The two of you stayed silent for a while, the smile never leaving your face. “It’s windy tonight,” he started “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m wearing a jacket.” you said, matter-of-factly.
It sounded like a joke, honestly. You did have an oversized leather jacket on, true. But it was hanging off your shoulders, covering only your forearms and doing absolutely nothing to warm up your legs now completely exposed, thanks to the short dress you chose to wear.
“Right.” he scoffed, and it was then when you turned to face him. His gaze was strained to your bare legs, and you catched the exact moment when his eyes made their way up to your face, devouring slowly every inch of you. When he finally realized you were watching, he froze.
The smugness of your expression was definitely not helping the embarrassment he felt for being caught. You could swear he would apologize in a few seconds. You were certain that if he was sober, he would’ve. Immediately. Perhaps even before letting himself stare. Also, if he was completely sober, he wouldn’t have let his mask fall like that.
In all honesty, neither would’ve you.
You were a professional. Not once you let yourself lose control. In all those months in the BAU, never let the facade slip. You wouldn’t risk your dream job over some uncontrolled lust for your boss. You would never let him see how much you truly wanted him.
And it worked: he had absolutely no idea, and it killed him to think that you weren’t nearly as desperate for him as he was for you.
But on that specific night, after far too many drinks and just as the nicotine clouded your brain just right, you felt it slip. Outside of that bar, the chilli air combined with his attention making shivers run up and down your thighs, there was no way you could’ve kept it together.
You always tried as hard as you possibly could to keep it professional. But that night, it was out of your grasp.
When you looked at his chocolate-y brown eyes, his thick and dark eyelashes kissing the top of his cheekbone, there was nothing but raw emotion on you.
And he caught on it too. That’s what got to him, that made him silent. That made him think that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to feel the way he did because you felt it too.
Because absolutely nothing that you could’ve said would be decent, you just blinked at him and extended the cig in his direction.
Against your expectations, he took two steps closer, standing so close to you that his cologne was stronger on your nostrils than the smoke.
Looking directly at your eyes, he took the cigarette from between your fingers, bashfully brushing his knuckles on yours. You followed closely each movement he made, bringing it to his lips, completely unbothered by the red lipstick stain you left on its white material.
He inhaled, still not breaking eye contact, and tilted his head to the side to blow out the smoke.
“So…” he started, taking another hit “That friend of yours?”
You smirked, knowing damn well he didn’t want to call him your boyfriend.
“We broke up.” Hotch raised his eyebrows, seeming completely unbothered — and if you were being honest, slightly satisfied — at the news.
“I’m sorry.” he said, not even trying to sound like he was. You barked a laugh.
“No, you’re not.”
Aaron glanced down for a second, trying to hold back the shit eating smiles fighting to the surface. With only a smirk, he passed you back the cigarette.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and that time actually sounded convincing. Because, true, he was a little satisfied that it didn’t work out between you and Charles. But he’d be heartbroken if you ended up hurt.
You shrugged, taking a long drag and trying not to get so giddy about the fact that, in Spencer’s logic, you and Hotch just kissed — exchanged thousands of bacteria and probably another step toward lung failure, but no one is counting.
“I’m fine. He was a nice guy, but dating requires a certain amount of attention…”
“And you weren’t ready to give?” he asked, because (god help him) he was too bewitched by your voice and the movement of your red swallowed lips to remember that he actually didn’t want to hear about you and another guy.
Something about the air that night was dragging the naked truth out of you, and completely fogging any sort of reservation you definitely should have while talking to your boss.
“Not to him.” you said, looking closely into his eyes. He just stared back, not trusting himself to say anything else.
For a moment, you just passed the cigarette back and forth, smoking in silence and drinking each other in. Not a single word was spoken, but every touch of your hands sent an electric spark rumbling through your body like a lighting, and you hoped he felt it too. Actually, you really think he did feel it, if the way his knuckles brushed yours more intently each time was any of a tell.
When you watched him dump the burnt butt on the outdoor ashtray, and immediately dreaded the moment you knew it was close to happening. Nights out with the team were always a blast, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to enjoy having Hotch’s presence all by yourself for much longer.
With his hands now empty, he shoved them on the pockets of his pants, turning around to face you and resting his shoulder on the brick wall like he, too, dreading the moment you had to part ways.
“Ready to get back inside?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. You bit your lip, trying to clear your mind and remember it was for the best. Being around other people would definitely ease up all that desire bubbling up your blood.
“Sure.” you heard yourself mumbling, even though you screamed to stay for longer. His eyes glanced down for a second, coming back to your face so fast it was almost like it didn’t happen. You weren’t completely sure, but you could almost sense a disappointment in his face.
Whatever it was, it was gone right after. He nodded, pushing himself off the wall and stepping aside for you to walk in front of him, ever the gentleman. It wasn’t a couple steps after that, just before he reached the bar’s door handle, that you called his name.
“Aaron,” you called, making his body rigidly come to a stop.
He blinked, not trusting himself to look at you without kissing you. For months he rolled over in his bed, not able to get a good night of sleep because his mind was too busy wondering if you remembered that night.
Technically, he knew you remembered. But it aggravated him the mere thought that the night you spent together didn’t cross your mind as much as it crossed his. Obviously, he remembered very well the morning after, on your first day at the BAU, where he was very clear that whatever happened between you couldn’t not happen again – which sometimes he regretted intensively – but there was no way it didn’t affect you, right?
The fact that it haunted him that badly had to mean something. You must’ve been hunted by it too.
It was selfish, he knew, because he wanted nothing more than to move on with his life without jeopardizing his career and yours too. But god, he hoped you were just as miserable as he was.
He needed you to.
But you didn’t budge. Truth to be told, he never doubted you and your work ethics. As much as he wished that you’d break, he was very sure you wouldn’t. It simply wasn’t like you. You’d fought too hard to risk it all, especially if you didn’t know how he felt.
It surprised him, and – because, apparently, everything he felt towards you wasn’t enough – it only made him admire you the most. Even though it killed him. Even though he silently overanalysed all your words and expressions, lurking around in hope to catch at least one single slip. One hint that showed him you wanted him too, and he was gone.
Unfortunately, apart from some lingering glances – that were so quick and rare that it easily could’ve been the fruit of his desperate imagination – nothing ever happened.
At least, not until that night.
Not until you called him that.
It was “Hotchner” in your very first month. “Hotch” ever since. “Sir” when you were feeling mischievous, or pissed off. Or both. But never Aaron. Not since that night. Not when you were moaning his name, his hands all over you and his cock buried deep inside of you in all different positions.
Clinging for dear life on the last remain of dignity he still had, he liked to think to himself that he forgot how it sounded. How his name sounded on your voice, how your tongue rolled to say those letters and made it sound like a spell. He remembered all of it, though. If he concentrated enough, he could hear you call for him in every volume and in every tone. He could hear you demanding, begging, whining, crying. What was true though, was that it had been so long that he wasn’t that sure that it really sounded like it did in his memory or it was just his mind playing tricks to prevent him from acting out.
Nonetheless, it all crumbled that night, when he finally heard it again.
Aaron.
He would die a happy man if that was the last thing he heard.
Bracing himself to stop from begging you to repeat, he just stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to.
Your breath hitched, he noticed. In other circumstances, you’d apologized. Correct yourself. ‘Shit. Sorry, sir. Hotch.’
Not that night, though. Not in that particular moment. Outside the cramped bar and under the flickering street light, he wasn’t Unit Chief SSA Hotchner. He was the Aaron you met one year ago. The Aaron you dreamt about. It took him hearing you called him that for him to understand: it wasn’t over.
“I left through the back exit.” you started. He was so intrigued by where you were getting at, he managed to face you. Surprised, he found nothing but pure and deep devotion. Your heart was on your sleeve, and he knew you weren’t playing any games. Whatever you were going to ask, it was serious. “I didn’t tell anyone I’d be here. How did you know?” you stopped, searching for the truth in his eyes “Were you watching him?”
And because he had no choice than to match your honesty, he peeled off all the walls he so carefully built, and looked deep into your eyes.
“I’m always watching you.”
after hours specific taglist @sleepysongbirdsings @midnghtprentiss @camihotchner @ilovefictionallmenn @circuskatt @bernelflo @beesin03
I feel like Hotch would put everyone into his phone with full government names and notes on who they are/how he met them and is super organized and doesn’t have any emojis EXCEPT for his girl. She’d get a nickname or emoji and deff gets a photo
You’re peering over Aaron’s shoulder for no reason other than pure nosiness when a text from Jess comes through. He has her saved as ‘Jessica Brooks (Haley)’.
“Is that really her contact?” you ask quietly. You’re not trying to embarrass him, and the jet is full to bursting with your team and coworkers.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“You’ve known her for twenty years.”
“It’s efficient,” he says, side-eyeing you with an admittedly fond smile. “If anyone needs to contact her for me, I just have to say it’s Jessica Brooks. There’s no confusion.”
“Do you have many Jessica’s on there?”
He moves away from you to give you a judgemental look. “Are you being hurtful?”
“Who else do you have on there? When Jack gets a phone, what will you save him as? Jack Hotchner, bracket, son?”
“Don’t be silly.”
Your face fills with heat, and curiosity. “Wait, wait. What am I saved as? Don’t tell me it’s my full name, oh, please, Aaron,” you tease. “No, it’s Special Supervisory L/N, isn’t it?”
He’s saved in your phone as an indulgent, perhaps embarrassing Sweetheart Aaron, though you change it when the mood suits you. It’s funny. Baby, sweetheart, angel, it all felt saccharine before you fell in love. You still remember the night after your first kiss when you’d changed his contact name to Aaron with three hearts.
“It’s not,” he promises. “Have a look, if you like.”
You take his phone and click into his contacts. You scroll for your initial and frown when you miss it. There’s a John Edgar (Plumber) and a Kacey (Gardening assistant). He has four separate school teachers and three different Mia’s, one of which is marked without a profession. You’ll circle back to her later. But you can’t find your own face.
“No way you don’t have my number saved,” you say.
His laugh is boyish by your ear. “Back up.”
You scroll all the way to the top.
Your contact name is bracketed in hearts at the very top. It’s pinned. ♥️My sweet girl ♥️. The contact photo is one of you sleeping all smushed into his shoulder, not unlike the way you’d been sitting with him a few moments ago.
The shock of it has you biting down on your bottom lip. Aaron winces as you let the skin pull between your teeth, murmuring, “Honey,” apprehensively.
“Sweet girl?” you murmur back.
“You are, aren’t you?”
You cover your face with your hands, pleased beyond words, and fiercely shocked. “Aaron.”
“Would you prefer something else?”
“I like mine as it is, if that’s agreeable, sir.”
He slips his phone from your hand with another laugh. “Let’s see what Jessica Brooks has to say about my boy.”
“Jack Hotchner, son, you mean?”
He grumbles something under his breath about being ridiculed, while you open your phone up to change his contact to include a few more hearts, in way of apology.
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!profiler!reader
summary: (takes place after episodes 4x25/26) after facing the worst case of your career, you realize you needed to leave the bau. luckily, aaron is always there to take care of you.
content/tw: just a little angst, secret relationship, i used aaron’s monologue all over this bc it’s honestly world-shattering, alcohol consumption, mentions of the case in 4x25/26 (if you need an excuse to rewatch, here it is!), i think that’s it <3 disclaimer: there will be no foyet in this series!! i still haven’t figured it out if haley and jack will be a part of this universe… probably not 😛 (love them down)
word count: 1.9k
a/n: based on this request! I’m sorry it took me so long to update, adult life is kicking my ass terribly! I love you all, thank you for being with me for this journey! thank you thank you thank you 1k followers!!!!!
dividors @uzmacchiato
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The flight back was quiet.
Too quiet to be comfortable. No headphones, no small talk, little to no paper ruffling.
The space inside the jet wasn’t big, but at that moment it seemed like a whole universe could fit in between each of those seats.
Eighty-nine murders at the pig farm. The deaths of Mason and Lucas Turner makes 91 lives snuffed out. Kelly Shane will go home and try to recover, to reconnect with her family, but she'll never be a child again. William Hightower, who gave his leg for his country, gave the rest of himself to avenge his sister's murder. That makes 93 lives forever altered, not counting family and friends in the small town of Sarnia, Ontario, who thought that monsters didn't exist until they learned that they spent their lives with one.
The whole team was dismissed as soon as they arrived at the BAU. Even Hotch needed a break from his office, which was such a rare occurrence that deserved its own round of cheering. Of course, there was none. All eight of you waited together for the elevator, silently.
JJ, Emily, Reid and David discussed their plans. Some would rather relax with their family, some with their friends, some alone. You listened to their voices, but the words seemed blurred, undisguisable under the voices in your head replaying the previous hours.
Garcia nudged your side, snapping you from your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place with us?” she asked, her voice soft as Morgan stood behind her, silently helping her slide her jacket up her arms. “We can order pizza and watch silly things…”
You smiled, or at least tried to, at her offer and shook her head. For the first time in hours, you spoke up more than three words “Thank you, though. I just feel like I should be around people who – who weren't there.” you try, glancing subtly at Hotch, who stood behind them listening to the conversation. To show you he did get your point, he just gave a single nod, diverting his eyes again.
Reaching for you, Penelope squeezed your shoulder slightly, giving you her own version of a smile. Apparently, none of you felt like flashing your teeth around. “Whatever you need, hun.”
As the cramped elevator took you down the building, you realized you were right. Maybe, you just needed to get away for the night. Forget about the past days, take your mind off of the 93 victims of that case and all the ‘what if's' that naturally came with it.
After everyone parted ways, you and Aaron were the last ones there. He walked you to your car, his presence silent but comforting. It was soothing, in some way. But not what you needed.
“If you change your mind. Or… anything. Please call me.” His voice is soft but worried. You turn around to face him standing two steps behind you. You pressed your lips together. It wasn’t a smile, but your heart did warm up a little.
Reaching to grab his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze “I will.”
He nodded and watched as you got in the car, standing there until you left. As you watched his and, later, the building’s reflection get smaller on the rearview mirror, you didn’t feel the peace you thought you would. So you just hoped you'd made the right decision.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Way too many drinks later, you realized you absolutely had not made the right decision.
And so did Aaron, since exactly three minutes before midnight, his phone rang loudly though his empty and silent living room. He was far from being asleep, but the sound still caught him off guard.
“Hey,” he answered worriedly, but trying not to sound too startled.
“Aren’t you coming to my farewell party?” you asked, amused and, by the swirl of your tongue, clearly drunk.
“Huh?” it was the only thing he could manage to say, while standing up promptly from the couch and looking for a shirt.
“Oh, yeah. I supposed I didn’t invite you.” You giggled, “Well, I am now.”
“And may I ask where exactly are you going?” he asked, his tone clipped and patient, all while fidgeting with the buttons up his shirt.
“I’m not sure yet…” you sighed loudly, and the smallest of smiles made their way on his face “But I’m leaving the BAU.” that surely did wipe any hint of amusement off his face “I even have my resignation paper with me.”
“You do?” he asked, getting his keys and hurriedly walking out of his apartment.
“Mhmm. It’s right here, on my napkin.”
“That’s… original. Can you tell me where you are?”
“Are you coming?” the tone of your voice changed, immediately lightening up. He promised that the ridiculous flip of his stomach was due to the chill of the night air.
To you, it seemed that only a second after the call ended, Hotch showed up to the bar, hair slightly wet and shirt wrinkled with the buttons undone. The music in the bar might as well be muted, the way everything went silent in your mind at the sight of him.
It took him two steps in to locate you, sitting on one of the barstolls, a half-drunk beer on one of your hands and a neatly folded napkin on the other.
“Aaron!” you waved, smiling up at him. He tried to smile back, but the wrinkle on his forehead told you exactly just how worried he was.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes scanning your whole face. After his analysis, he turned to the barman behind you, mouthing for some water.
“Just… wonderful.” you said, smiling exaggeratingly. Smiling so hard your eyes started to water. And then that happened, your mouth started to quiver. And soon after, you were shaking. Aaron didn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around you, nesting your face close to his chest.
He walked you out, his arms never leaving your side, and made sure you drank enough water. As soon as you got into his car, he only rolled the windows down and turned to face you, hinting he wasn’t going to start driving anytime soon.
“Did it help?” he asked quietly, not exactly trying to nudge you to admit you were wrong, but just encouraging you to start speaking. Somehow, it worked.
“I don’t think I can be around them.” You confided. “I really thought that this is what I needed, but I can even find it in me to be around those people and not be — aggravated. How can they not know?”
Aaron blinked, his voice just above a whisper “They?”
“Us. How could we not know, Aaron?” and there it was. The thing that was sitting on the back of your mind the past few days “89 people. 89.” You blinked, not even realizing the tears streaming down your eyes. For a while, you just stayed there, side by side. “Have you tried counting to 89? This is what I’ve been doing the whole night. It takes longer than a minute. You need nine people's hands – both of them – to count the number of victims. And a whole other person if you count the Turners.” and then, like something snapped inside you, you turned to Hotch “I can’t do this.”
He breathed, blinking at you “What?”
“I can’t keep doing this. I think I— I don’t belong in the BAU.” you muttered, voice shaking just as much as your fingers.
He gulped. “Why not?”
You chuckled, exasperated “Why would I? I just can’t go on with my life knowing what I know. How am I supposed to go to sleep knowing that there are more of them out there? And we won’t even know about it before it’s too late. If — If we even get as far as knowing it.”
“So you want out. And you think that, by doing so, all those thoughts will go away?” he asks. It’s not ironic, not rude. His eyes are kind, disarming. His tone is nothing but soft, soothing even. Understanding your feelings, while encouraging you to think it further.
You don’t answer, he doesn’t need you to.
“How do you do it?” you mutter, after a moment. It’s meant to sound like a question, but it ends up sounding like a beg. Like you’re desperately seeking an alternative, a secret magic trick that will make you strong enough to face this.
Hotch blinks twice, slowly, before answering “I don’t— you don’t get over it, you get through. Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what's happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed.” As he speaks, his eyes are on the window, staring at nothing in particular. And then you realize, he needed this just as much as you. “Did it need to end that way? Could something have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place?”
You frowned, not exactly disappointed at the answer as you expected to be. For some sick reason, you find nothing but comfort in his answer.
Is it possible to find something such as comfort in someone else’s hurt? Is it terrible? Is this more proof that you’re not fitting for the job?
He turns back to you “It’s painful not being able to control everything. But just so you know, having the powers of calling the shots isn’t less terrifying.” your heart breaks a little as you see the hurt in his expression. Just then you realize how terrible it must be for him to carry that weight. “I worry about you. The team. How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss, how many times before they won't ever recover the pieces of themselves that this job takes?”
Again, you stay in silence. Somewhere in your dizzy mind, you wonder if this is it. If you reached that limit yet. Something tells you no.
“How terrible it is that I feel a little better now that I know you’re miserable too?” you confess, sniffing.
For the first time that night, he smiles. Breathing a laugh, he reaches over to clasp your hand between his. “Not terrible.” he brought your wrist to level with his face, letting his lips rest for a second over your pulse.
“I just wish I could be less affected by those things.” you confessed, your voice just above a whisper.
He looked up to face you, with those kind brown eyes that could make you melt on the spot “I don’t. This hurts you feel for the victims… The fear of letting it happen again… This is what makes you so good at your job. And I wouldn’t change it.”
For the first time since you’ve been called on that case, your heart is filled with more than grief and anguish. He was right. The anger you felt for those who had their lives ruined was still there. The horror, the panic of what you’ve seen were strong as ever. Yet… it only made you want to grow, to change. To work your hardest to change that scenario.
From the moment the dream of being in the BAU first made its way to your heart, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The reality was a bit harsher than you anticipated, but you weren’t ready to back out just yet. Sometimes you walk back home with a sense of gratification, proud of getting the job done. Sometimes, the day just… ends.
This was one of them. It wasn’t the first, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. But you were just getting started.
Later, while driving back home, Aaron asked if you still wanted to be alone.
This time, you said no.
after hours specific taglist @sleepysongbirdsings @midnghtprentiss @camihotchner @ilovefictionallmenn @circuskatt @bernelflo @beesin03
hey!! ive thought about this for a while, what about s1 or s2 spencer with a long time girlfriend? they have been together since high school and the team meets her, or their dynamic living together while she's still in college and he's already working
thanks pretty girl muah, kisses
“oh my god oh my god oh my god, are my beautiful eyes betraying me or are you actually here ?!” exclaimed a sweet voice as you entered the familiar bullpen of quantico’s behavioural analysis unit.
it wasn’t your first time here, no. over the years, you’d become used to visiting your boyfriend at work. used to the strong smell of coffee that was probably embedded in the carpeting by now, and the constant buzzing of the several computers in the room, a reminder that rest and peace weren’t words anyone was familiar with here.
but the welcome you got, this sort of half squealing, half screaming, followed by a bone crushing hug, wasn’t even from your boyfriend. no. it was from penelope garcia, the lovely technical analyst who had a soft spot for anything shiny and bedazzled and - well, you.
“nope, your beautiful eyes would never lie” you giggled, embracing her warmly in return, as you always did. “i’m here”
she let you go about a solid minute later, allowing the rest of the team to welcome you. you quickly waved, all of them somehow too engrossed in their respective roles to point out the fact that you seemed to spend as much time here as they did. emily blew you a kiss, jj winked at you from the coffee machine and derek joked about “pretty boy’s pretty girl” being around once again.
and that’s pretty much how it always went.
you coming over here to drop pick up spencer from work, or drop off some lunch to make sure he’d get something to eat. on the good days, you’d even bring some of your baked goods to the team, which definitely earned you an insane amount of compliments from all of them.
after all, none of them could recall a time where you hadn’t been around. and you couldn’t either.
which is why when his hands wrapped around your waist from behind, gentle and steady like they belonged here, you immediately softened at the feel.
“hey there,” spencer smiled, trying to keep a respectful distance between the two of you - because he could practically feel the half a dozen pairs of eyes on him, and it didn’t exactly make him feel comfortable.
you grinned in return, and he bit his lip.
“you got here earlier than i thought... which is great, i’m glad to see you. but i’m still in the middle of paperwork, because i estimated your time of arrival would be around 7:24…”
“it’s okay… i can wait, i just really missed you…” you shrugged nonchalantly.
when you told him that, muttering it softly in hopes that no one else would hear, you swore you saw him melt. and professionalism be damned, he couldn’t not say it back.
“i missed you too, darling. you have no idea”
“okay, you two. this is getting absolutely obscene” warned morgan, who had apparently heard all of it. “get a room, seriously”
he faked puking in the trash can by his feet and apparently, he wasn’t the only one to be in a teasing mood. jj and emily rolled their eyes, and rossi winked at you in a knowing way.
“i was really just driving by,” you retorted, spencer’s hand squeezing your hips a bit harder as he nodded. “and i wanted to say hi.”
all of them raised their brows. “to you, and to everyone, of course” you rectified with a chuckle. “because apparently, being in a relationship with one BAU member means i’m involved with the whole unit”
─── ⋆⋅ 𝜗𝜚 ⋅⋆ ───
back home, a couple of hours later, a quiet squeaking sound of the wooden door pulled you out of your thoughts. the greyish light of the september sky bathed your apartment in a just-bright-enough glow, allowing you to study from the couch.
you’d been waiting for him for a while now, but didn’t bother moving. the blanket draped around your shoulders was keeping you trapped in a warm comfort, and he was already striding to the living room anyway.
“i’m back,” spencer said, eyes roaming over your bundled body, curled up on the sofa like a cat.
he sunk on the couch next to you, careful not to touch any of the multiple piles of paper surrounding you. “studying again ?”
you nodded with a sigh, and put the last pile on your legs as a sign of defeat.
“yup. again. i’ve been at it for hours and yet i feel like i’ve learned nothing.”
“don’t say that, love. i’m sure you’re more than ready”
the thing with spencer, apart from the fact that he was unmistakably the brightest person you knew, was that his intellect didn’t exactly match yours.
not because you weren’t smart, no. in fact, he never made you feel less than his equal. he admired your diligence and work ethics, and celebrated all of your achievements like his own.
but he was spencer reid.
with three PhDs in his name, and years of working experience in the federal bureau of investigation.
and you, well… you were a college student, still unsure about the future and what would come after you’d receive your diploma.
“hey, look at me” he ordered- no, begged, pleadingly with warm eyes that could make you melt. “you’re amazing, okay ? my smart girl, the smartest one…”
you involuntarily let out a giggle, that made his face soften.
“there you go, that’s better…. now tell me, when do finals start ?” he asked, as if he didn’t have all of the dates jotted down in his agenda down to the exact minute.
“five days…”
your lungs tightened a bit at the words, the blanket suddenly making you hot. finals were always a stressful moment to you due to the academic pressure you put on yourself, and spencer knew it more than anyone else.
“okay, that’s okay.” he put an arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer so that he could murmur against your hair.
“five days leaves us plenty of time to get prepare you for it. i’ll help you study, we just need a plan and some extra coffee for you. maybe we’ll even stock up on the pumpkin spice one-“
“spencer-“
“just saying, if it helps you study then we can get that… but for now, you need a break” he said, pulling away a bit to look at you in the eyes. “you look like you haven’t gotten up from the couch in ages”
technically you hadn’t. but now wasn’t the time to tell him that, so you grabbed all of your documents and your laptop, and put them away.
seeing you agree so easily surprised him, but he wouldn’t complain. “how about some cuddles for now ?” he suggested, and he was quick to trap you in his arms before you could even answer.
“mhmph” you mumbled against his chest, “thirty minutes”
“thirty minutes,” he echoed, knowing you’d probably still be there in two hours.
“you know, you could study more efficiently if you didn’t come by the office everyday,” he whispered against your ear in a playful tone.
“shut up.”
his hands began rubbing patterns against your back and you relaxed, watching the world outside the window. you couldn’t help but notice that the leaves were almost all turning a familiar shade of orange already, but you didn’t mind.
no, time passing wasn’t scary. at least not when spencer was by your side.
a/n : happy september, my loves !!! i’m sooooo excited for this new season, may autumn treat you all wonderfully :))
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!profiler!reader
summary: (takes place after episodes 4x25/26) after facing the worst case of your career, you realize you needed to leave the bau. luckily, aaron is always there to take care of you.
content/tw: just a little angst, secret relationship, i used aaron’s monologue all over this bc it’s honestly word-shattering, alcohol consumption, mentions of the case in 4x25/26 (if you need an excuse to rewatch, here it is!), i think that’s it <3 disclaimer: there will be no foyet in this series!! i still haven’t figured it out if haley and jack will be a part of this universe… probably not 😛 (love them down)
word count: 1.9k
a/n: based on this request! I’m sorry it took me so long to update, adult life is kicking my ass terribly! I love you all, thank you for being with me for this journey! thank you thank you thank you 1k followers!!!!!
dividors @uzmacchiato
after hours masterlist
main masterlist
The flight back was quiet.
Too quiet to be comfortable. No headphones, no small talk, little to no paper ruffling.
The space inside the jet wasn’t big, but at that moment it seemed like a whole universe could fit in between each of those seats.
Eighty-nine murders at the pig farm. The deaths of Mason and Lucas Turner makes 91 lives snuffed out. Kelly Shane will go home and try to recover, to reconnect with her family, but she'll never be a child again. William Hightower, who gave his leg for his country, gave the rest of himself to avenge his sister's murder. That makes 93 lives forever altered, not counting family and friends in the small town of Sarnia, Ontario, who thought that monsters didn't exist until they learned that they spent their lives with one.
The whole team was dismissed as soon as they arrived at the BAU. Even Hotch needed a break from his office, which was such a rare occurrence that deserved its own round of cheering. Of course, there was none. All eight of you waited together for the elevator, silently.
JJ, Emily, Reid and David discussed their plans. Some would rather relax with their family, some with their friends, some alone. You listened to their voices, but the words seemed blurred, undisguisable under the voices in your head replaying the previous hours.
Garcia nudged your side, snapping you from your thoughts. “Are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place with us?” she asked, her voice soft as Morgan stood behind her, silently helping her slide her jacket up her arms. “We can order pizza and watch silly things…”
You smiled, or at least tried to, at her offer and shook her head. For the first time in hours, you spoke up more than three words “Thank you, though. I just feel like I should be around people who – who weren't there.” you try, glancing subtly at Hotch, who stood behind them listening to the conversation. To show you he did get your point, he just gave a single nod, diverting his eyes again.
Reaching for you, Penelope squeezed your shoulder slightly, giving you her own version of a smile. Apparently, none of you felt like flashing your teeth around. “Whatever you need, hun.”
As the cramped elevator took you down the building, you realized you were right. Maybe, you just needed to get away for the night. Forget about the past days, take your mind off of the 93 victims of that case and all the ‘what if's' that naturally came with it.
After everyone parted ways, you and Aaron were the last ones there. He walked you to your car, his presence silent but comforting. It was soothing, in some way. But not what you needed.
“If you change your mind. Or… anything. Please call me.” His voice is soft but worried. You turn around to face him standing two steps behind you. You pressed your lips together. It wasn’t a smile, but your heart did warm up a little.
Reaching to grab his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze “I will.”
He nodded and watched as you got in the car, standing there until you left. As you watched his and, later, the building’s reflection get smaller on the rearview mirror, you didn’t feel the peace you thought you would. So you just hoped you'd made the right decision.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Way too many drinks later, you realized you absolutely had not made the right decision.
And so did Aaron, since exactly three minutes before midnight, his phone rang loudly though his empty and silent living room. He was far from being asleep, but the sound still caught him off guard.
“Hey,” he answered worriedly, but trying not to sound too startled.
“Aren’t you coming to my farewell party?” you asked, amused and, by the swirl of your tongue, clearly drunk.
“Huh?” it was the only thing he could manage to say, while standing up promptly from the couch and looking for a shirt.
“Oh, yeah. I supposed I didn’t invite you.” You giggled, “Well, I am now.”
“And may I ask where exactly are you going?” he asked, his tone clipped and patient, all while fidgeting with the buttons up his shirt.
“I’m not sure yet…” you sighed loudly, and the smallest of smiles made their way on his face “But I’m leaving the BAU.” that surely did wipe any hint of amusement off his face “I even have my resignation paper with me.”
“You do?” he asked, getting his keys and hurriedly walking out of his apartment.
“Mhmm. It’s right here, on my napkin.”
“That’s… original. Can you tell me where you are?”
“Are you coming?” the tone of your voice changed, immediately lightening up. He promised that the ridiculous flip of his stomach was due to the chill of the night air.
To you, it seemed that only a second after the call ended, Hotch showed up to the bar, hair slightly wet and shirt wrinkled with the buttons undone. The music in the bar might as well be muted, the way everything went silent in your mind at the sight of him.
It took him two steps in to locate you, sitting on one of the barstolls, a half-drunk beer on one of your hands and a neatly folded napkin on the other.
“Aaron!” you waved, smiling up at him. He tried to smile back, but the wrinkle on his forehead told you exactly just how worried he was.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes scanning your whole face. After his analysis, he turned to the barman behind you, mouthing for some water.
“Just… wonderful.” you said, smiling exaggeratingly. Smiling so hard your eyes started to water. And then that happened, your mouth started to quiver. And soon after, you were shaking. Aaron didn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around you, nesting your face close to his chest.
He walked you out, his arms never leaving your side, and made sure you drank enough water. As soon as you got into his car, he only rolled the windows down and turned to face you, hinting he wasn’t going to start driving anytime soon.
“Did it help?” he asked quietly, not exactly trying to nudge you to admit you were wrong, but just encouraging you to start speaking. Somehow, it worked.
“I don’t think I can be around them.” You confided. “I really thought that this is what I needed, but I can even find it in me to be around those people and not be — aggravated. How can they not know?”
Aaron blinked, his voice just above a whisper “They?”
“Us. How could we not know, Aaron?” and there it was. The thing that was sitting on the back of your mind the past few days “89 people. 89.” You blinked, not even realizing the tears streaming down your eyes. For a while, you just stayed there, side by side. “Have you tried counting to 89? This is what I’ve been doing the whole night. It takes longer than a minute. You need nine people's hands – both of them – to count the number of victims. And a whole other person if you count the Turners.” and then, like something snapped inside you, you turned to Hotch “I can’t do this.”
He breathed, blinking at you “What?”
“I can’t keep doing this. I think I— I don’t belong in the BAU.” you muttered, voice shaking just as much as your fingers.
He gulped. “Why not?”
You chuckled, exasperated “Why would I? I just can’t go on with my life knowing what I know. How am I supposed to go to sleep knowing that there are more of them out there? And we won’t even know about it before it’s too late. If — If we even get as far as knowing it.”
“So you want out. And you think that, by doing so, all those thoughts will go away?” he asks. It’s not ironic, not rude. His eyes are kind, disarming. His tone is nothing but soft, soothing even. Understanding your feelings, while encouraging you to think it further.
You don’t answer, he doesn’t need you to.
“How do you do it?” you mutter, after a moment. It’s meant to sound like a question, but it ends up sounding like a beg. Like you’re desperately seeking an alternative, a secret magic trick that will make you strong enough to face this.
Hotch blinks twice, slowly, before answering “I don’t— you don’t get over it, you get through. Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what's happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you failed.” As he speaks, his eyes are on the window, staring at nothing in particular. And then you realize, he needed this just as much as you. “Did it need to end that way? Could something have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place?”
You frowned, not exactly disappointed at the answer as you expected to be. For some sick reason, you find nothing but comfort in his answer.
Is it possible to find something such as comfort in someone else’s hurt? Is it terrible? Is this more proof that you’re not fitting for the job?
He turns back to you “It’s painful not being able to control everything. But just so you know, having the powers of calling the shots isn’t less terrifying.” your heart breaks a little as you see the hurt in his expression. Just then you realize how terrible it must be for him to carry that weight. “I worry about you. The team. How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss, how many times before they won't ever recover the pieces of themselves that this job takes?”
Again, you stay in silence. Somewhere in your dizzy mind, you wonder if this is it. If you reached that limit yet. Something tells you no.
“How terrible it is that I feel a little better now that I know you’re miserable too?” you confess, sniffing.
For the first time that night, he smiles. Breathing a laugh, he reaches over to clasp your hand between his. “Not terrible.” he brought your wrist to level with his face, letting his lips rest for a second over your pulse.
“I just wish I could be less affected by those things.” you confessed, your voice just above a whisper.
He looked up to face you, with those kind brown eyes that could make you melt on the spot “I don’t. This hurts you feel for the victims… The fear of letting it happen again… This is what makes you so good at your job. And I wouldn’t change it.”
For the first time since you’ve been called on that case, your heart is filled with more than grief and anguish. He was right. The anger you felt for those who had their lives ruined was still there. The horror, the panic of what you’ve seen were strong as ever. Yet… it only made you want to grow, to change. To work your hardest to change that scenario.
From the moment the dream of being in the BAU first made its way to your heart, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The reality was a bit harsher than you anticipated, but you weren’t ready to back out just yet. Sometimes you walk back home with a sense of gratification, proud of getting the job done. Sometimes, the day just… ends.
This was one of them. It wasn’t the first, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. But you were just getting started.
Later, while driving back home, Aaron asked if you still wanted to be alone.
This time, you said no.
after hours specific taglist @sleepysongbirdsings @midnghtprentiss @camihotchner @ilovefictionallmenn @circuskatt @bernelflo @beesin03
this was so tender, literally the best comfort after what took place ♥️🥺 also the way he got her a water immediately made me melt, they’re so cute I love this au <33
omg ikr???😭😭😭 i might have to write one of this after every angst episode if i intend to keep going with my rewatch 🩷 i love cm but there are some eps that make me want to CRAWL 💔
i love their dynamic, writing for them truly is an experience of its own! it comes so naturally to me it’s like i know them personally 😭 (i might need to socialize more…)
anyway ignore me babbling! thank you so much for this sweet message, i’m so incredibly happy you liked it, and that you love them as much as i do💗💗💗💗
