#*hotch x reader

[writinghotchner]

migraine in progress, temporarily out of order

pairing: aaron hotchner x gn!reader (no pronouns used for reader) rating: E tags/warnings: mentions of headache/migraine, feeling bad in general, no use of "y/n"

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this is completely self indulgent >:) i have a literal splitting headache and i would cry about it but thatd just make things worse so im just gunna struggle write :') if only i had a big strapping man to......................help me..................

when the alarm next to your bed goes off, you feel a crack of lightning strike through your skull and rattle your teeth. it jolts through your spine and for a second you're actually afraid to open your eyes. the light that's barely shining into your window through your eyelids is enough to make your retinas feel like they're going to sizzle out of your skull.

you fling your blanket over your head and let out a shaky sigh. headaches and migraines aren't super rare for you, but you get them enough to know that you are going to be miserable and useless for the next few hours, if not the entire day.

you slither your hand out to stop the loud, shrieking screams of your alarm, only to find that it's not your phone going off. you crack open an eye to look at your phone to make sure and slam it shut with a sigh.

you manage to roll over and shake aaron, who mumbles something and turns it off, and then rolls back over to engulf you in his sleepy, heavy arms.

you stay like that for a few moments before you feel the bed dip and hear him patter across the bedroom floor to the bathroom. it somehow sounds like it's echoing in your brain, making you wince and screw your eyes closed tighter. the thought of moving at all makes you want to throw up but you figure if you can get your head under your pillow, maybe the sounds will muffle enough to leave you alone.

you manage it, squeezing the pillow to your ear, some of the pressure barely easing the pain. you remember your hair is up in a bun and struggle with wanting to take it down for some extra relief or just leaving it alone.

you leave it because there's no way you can move again without actually having your brain sear its way through your skull and onto you freshly washed sheets.

it's taking everything you have to not cry, the annoyance of it all being too much. but you know if you start crying, you won't be able to stop and it will definitely make your headache so, so, so much worse.

after a few minutes of you trying to breathe through the pain, you feel aaron's presence in front of you and then immediately hear is hushed voice.

"honey?" he asks. he slides his hand under the blanket and rests it on the arm you have draped over the pillow, running his thumb over your warm skin.

you mumble a pathetic sound to acknowledge him and that's enough for him to know that you're in pain; you had a pretty bad migraine a few months ago and he can only assume that's what's happening now. you feel his arm move away from you and you can tell, even through the blanket and closed eyes, that he's drawn the curtains on the windows closed to help keep out the light.

he's back in front of you again, squatting next to the bed. "can you take the blanket off your head for a minute? you don't have to open your eyes, i just want to make sure you don't have a fever."

"don't." is all you can manage, and you hope he somehow knows you mean you don't have a fever and not "don't take off the blanket".

he waits a moment, before he peels the blanket off the top of your body and gently moves the pillow out of your death grip. you squeeze your eyes shut against the room, the light still too much for your pounding head. you have tears clinging to the seams of your eyes, and you feel him wipe them away as best as he can. he rests the back of his hand against your forehead and then feels your cheeks afterwards. no fever. he moves the pillow back and drapes the blanket of your head and you hear him get up and start to move away from you so you once again mumble a pitiful noise.

"do you want an ice pack or the heating pad?" his voice is barely a whisper but you can hear it like he's being projected inside your skull with surround sound on full volume.

you open your mouth to answer but it's too much and you immediately shut it and squeeze the pillow tighter to your skull. you feel his hand back on your skin a few seconds later. "tap my hand once for the ice pack and twice for the heating pad."

you use your free hand to squeeze his hand and then tap once. your bones already feel like they're on fire, there's no way the heating pad will not make you feel like your swimming in your own personal fire lake in hell.

you hear him leave and it feels like he's gone for an eternity before you hear him shuffle his socked feet back over to you.

"okay," he says softly. "i know you don't want to, but i need to remove the pillow and blanket."

you feel the blanket being lifted off of you and you curl further into yourself, clinging to the pillow that you still have pressing into your ear.

"i have an eye mask for you, i'll put it on you as soon as you let go of the pillow. and then i can turn you over away from the window and put the icepack on your neck. okay? tap my hand whenever you want me to start."

you want to cry because of the pain, sure, but the fact that your boyfriend is going out of his way to help you when you know he should be getting ready for work is not only the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, but also making you feel guilty because he is definitely going to be late for work.

also, when and where did he get an eye mask?

you take in a shaky breath and tap his hand. "okay." he says. you feel him start to pull the pillow off your head and you flinch, holding the pillow somehow closer and harder to your head.

aaron huffs out a small laugh. "honey..."

you reluctantly let go of it and he's quick to roll you over to face away from the window. you feel like your brain is sloshing around in your skull and it makes the pounding so much worse, but then you feel the ice pack at the base of your skull and you sigh in relief. it's going to take some time to work, but at least for now, you can focus on the uncomfortableness of the cold and not the gun fight that's ricocheting around your skull.

"i'm going to put the eye mask on you, so i have to lift your head for a second okay? i'm sorry."

you moan in pain when you feel him lift your head and settle the thin strap around your head. he realizes your hair is still in a bun, so he quickly pulls the band out and massages your scalp a little before he he softly places your head back down on the mattress and apologizes again. thankfully, the mask doesn't feel too tight and you sigh a little bit in relief when both of your eyes are completely blanketed in darkness.

you feel his hand smooth over your hair and then feel his warm lips against your forehead. "i have to make a phone call, but i'll be back in five minutes to remove the ice pack. we'll try the five minutes on, five minutes off method to see if it eases the pain any." you barely shake your head yes and then you feel him leave you.

~~~*~~~*~~~~*

you manage to fall back asleep, the cold from the ice pack and the sheer darkness that envelopes your eyes doing you wonders. your head still throbs, but it doesn't feel nearly as bad as it did before. it definitely feels like more than five minutes have passed and you take a risk to move the eye mask to look around.

the room is darker than it was before you went to sleep. the ice pack, you realize is gone and there's a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen sitting on aaron's night stand. you manage to pull off the mask and slowly sit up. your head has a dull ache to it, but thankfully it doesn't feel like your skull is going to split open anymore.

as you sit up, you rub your palms into your eyes. you roll your eyes around to test if that's going to make things worse or not. when you realize that your eyes don't hurt, you reach over for the water and pills in hopes to knock the rest of the dull ache out of your head.

you check the clock real quick, confused as to why the room seems darker than it should be, afraid that you somehow managed to sleep the entire day away. it's only noon. you barely remember his alarm going off at eight. you look over at the window to see that at some point, aaron had come in and draped a black sheet over the window. that brings a small smile to your face. but that quickly falters when you realize he must've called in to work to stay home with you. you slowly stand up to go find him but as if right on cue, he walks into the room.

"work?" was all you could manage.

"i called in. we don't have an active case and i would've just been sitting with jj in the office all day doing consults for nearby cases that didn't require us to be on the scene." he makes his way over to you and sits down on the bed. "jj and i did a zoom call and worked for the last few hours while you slept. it's all good."

you rest your head against his shoulder and he runs a hand over your thigh. "how do you feel?"

"better." you kiss his shoulder. "thank you."

he kisses the top of your head. "you don't ever have to thank me for taking care of you."

you hum a small laugh. "are you busy now?"

you feel him shake his head 'no'. "what do you need?"

"you."

he rolls his eyes playfully at that. he falls back onto the mattress, taking you with him and pulling you so that you're on top of him. you're quick to bury your face into his neck, placing a few soft kisses there before you thank him again. you hold him hostage in a koala hug for as long as you can before you realize you need to pee and he needs to get back to work.

[writinghotchner]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (no pronouns used for reader) rating: E tags/warnings: mention of headache/migraine, no mention of "y/n"

i've decided to start a little "migraine series". you can read the first one here. (or on ao3)

it'd been a long grueling day at work. everything started out fine until you started to get the flicker of a headache in the front of your skull. you downed a bottle of water and even had a shot of espresso just in case it could've been dehydration or caffeine withdrawal. of course you knew it wasn't either of those things - if anything it was wishful thinking. a migraine was lurking around the corner, and you were praying to every god you could think of to not let it hit you at work.

thankfully your boss let you off early, because right as you were pulling into the parking lot of the apartment complex, the headache started to worsen. you could feel it in your top back teeth, the aching throb that you knew was going to eventually take over your entire body.

you shuffled your way into the apartment and was immediately greeted by the loud tv in the living room where aaron was perched on the couch. hearing the door click closed, aaron turned to look back to see your very unhappy face. he huffed out a sympathetic laugh, his lips immediately falling into a pout at the sight of you.

you make your way over to him, and drop into his body. you sit in his lap and bury you face in his neck, and in return he circles his arms around you and hugs you to him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft and soothing.

"headache."

"i'm sorry." he checks your forehead with his cheek to make sure it's not a fever. he knows its not, but it's something he has to do every time you get a migraine. just in case.

"is it getting worse?"

the throb that was sitting in the top of your mouth has now moved to your eyeballs, and the tops of your cheeks are starting to hurt now too. you shake your head 'yes' and will every single tear that's gathering behind your closed eyes to stay inside.

he uses one of his hands to comb through your hair and lightly massages your scalp with his fingertips. he runs his fingers down to the base of your skull and applies pressure there. you let out a pitiful moan and he halts his movements. the hot tears that you were trying to cage behind your eyelids slip out, leaking onto his bare neck.

"oh, honey," aaron says sympathetically. he hates seeing you like this, hates it even more that this is something you have to go through at all.

he sits up a little bit and taps your thigh. "c'mon, put your legs around me, i'll carry you to bed."

you don't even argue, which is how he also knows this one is getting bad.

you falter a little, but you manage to shift in his lap and circle your legs around his hips. he stands and with ease, carries you into the bedroom and softly sits you down on the end of the bed.

"do you want help changing clothes?" he asks, squatting in front of you, his forearms bracketing your thighs and his hands holding your hips as he sneaks his thumbs underneath your shirt to rub soothing circles on your skin.

you close your eyes and hum a response, too tired to open your mouth to form actual words. you hear him stand and move away from you as slowly lay yourself down on the mattress.

after a few moments, he returns with a pair of your favorite soft sweatpants and a loose fitting long sleeved shirt.

he unbuttons your pants and slowly peels them off your legs, replacing them with the sweatpants. "i need your hands, i have to sit you up so i can take your shirt off."

your face crumples at the thought of having to sit up. the feeling of gravity working against your brain is never fun, and you know it's going to make the thud echoing in your skull even louder.

"i know, honey, i'll be quick, i promise."

you lift both of you arms up enough to where he can grab your wrists and slowly sits you up. you immediately slump into his stomach with a groan. he works quickly, pulling your shirt off over your head and before you know it, he's manhandling you to your side of the bed and flipping the covers over top of you.

the pain has settled in the entire dome of your skull now. the aching and throbbing is now pulsing entirely through out your skin and bones to the point where the back of your neck is starting to hurt.

you suck in a deep breathe, once again willing away tears, but also just trying to breathe through the anger of having to deal with this so often these days.

you hear aaron rustling beside you. your nightstand drawer is open and he's digging around for something which makes you want to clench your teeth until they break.

"okay," he says quietly, squatting next to you. he runs a big hand over the crown of your head and down your hair a few times. "migraine pills and the eye mask are right beside you on the nightstand. i'll pull the black out curtains closed on my way out and bring you some water, and then i'll be back shortly to check on you."

you crack an eye open at him and he smiles at you. "if you need me before then-"

"you spoil me." you tell him, your voice muffled by the blanket that you've pulled up to your face.

"in other cases, maybe. in this case, i'm just taking care of you." he leans down to kiss your temple and then he's off, leaving you in a cocoon of pain, comfort and love.

[writinghotchner]

pairing: aaron hotchner/reader rating: none - fluff and cuteness, some light swearing -- you're dog sitting your friends dog which leads you to having to take her out in the middle of the night in the freezing cold. aaron warms you up after. (sfw)

when you agreed to watch your friends tiny dog while she went on vacation, you really didn't think things through. one of the things being, that the tiny dog, with a tiny bladder, would more than likely have to go outside at some point in the god forsaken hours of the night.

which usually isn't something that'd bother you. you've battled with insomnia most of your life, so getting up, or actually, being up at the god forsaken hours of the night weren't that unusual for you.

however, it was dead in the middle of winter and the god forsaken hours of the night meant that you'd have to tredge your way through snow to get the tiny dog to a spot where she can safely pee without drowning in a snowbank.

so, now, you're cuddled in bed with your boyfriend, who despite telling him that you were dog sitting still insisted on staying over at your place, is all warm and comfortable when you're suddenly woken up to scratching and tiny whimpering coming from the side of your bed. you crack an eye open, surprised you'd fallen asleep so heavily- which you really only do when aaron stays over- and look down at the tiny dog who's tail is going so fast you worry for a moment that she might helicopter away from you.

you shift away from your boyfriend, who is warm and shirtless and tucked ever so cutely into the side of your body, cursing this tiny ass damn dog.

you all but dangle the upper half of your body over the side of the bed to look directly at the dog. "do you really need to go outside?" you ask her, and she twirls in a tight circle, her mouth open in a pant. "really? because it's the ass crack of dawn and freezing outside."

the dog still spins and yaps a small bark at you and you sigh, flopping back into bed. you hear a small laugh to your side and feel the bed jiggle.

"i will smother you with a pillow, aaron hotchner." is all you say and you watch as he buries his still laughing face into the comforter.

"you wouldn't wanna be a gentleman and take this dog out would you?" you ask, shimmying back under the covers and scooting closer to him. you move the blanket away from his face and kiss his nose. he pops an eye open and looks at you.

"are you going to smother me with a pillow if i don't?" he asks, his words muffled by the blanket still covering the bottom of his face.

you chuckle, moving the fabric away from his face fully. he closes his eyes again and wiggles uncharacteristically into the puffy warm comforter. "no, but i might smother this dog." you deadpan getting out of bed with a very dramatic but playful sigh. the dog nearly trips you in excitement before running full speed to your front door.

aaron laughs at that, but sits up. "i can take her out." he's about to swing the blanket fully off of him when you stop him.

"no, it's okay. i'm already up and it doesn't usually take her long to pee. go back to being a blanket burrito." he cracks a grin at you but doesn't protest.

you turn to leave the bedroom when he calls for you. "honey?"

you pivot on the ball of your foot to look at him. "yes?"

he raises his eyebrows at you. "it's freezing outside and probably snowing again. at least put shoes and a coat on."

you look down at your attire. sleep shorts that are a little too small for you and a tank top. you think for a moment but you can hear the dog frantically pawing at the door and whining. "i'll be quick." is all you say and you're down the hall and out the door.

it's absolutely freezing outside and snowing harder than you anticipated. the once snow-free sidewalk right outside of your apartment building is covered in snow and the patch of grass that's usually on the other side of the sidewalk is also covered in snow. the dog dances on her paws, the cold clearly too much for her little tiny paws, so you pick her up and sprint across the sidewalk into the snow covered grass and begin kicking your bare feet against the white in hopes to make a small patch for her to be able to comfortably pee.

after a few seconds, your foot feels like it's going to freeze and fall off but you manage to see grass and plop the dog down and beg her to hurry. she takes her time, sniffing the small area, even takes a few steps into the snow to follow whatever it is she smells in the air but quickly retreats back to the grass. she circles the spot a few times, still smelling the ground. "if you don't hurry, i swear i'll leave you out here." you cross your arms over your chest and bounce from foot to foot, the cold eating seemingly eating away at the flesh of your feet. you silently curse yourself for not at least sliding on shoes.

after a few seconds, she finally squats and you release a sigh of relief. "oh thank god," you whisper and snatch the dog up after she's done and run back into your building.

your feet are so cold they feel like they're on fire and your fingers feel like they could break off at any given moment but you manage to sprint your way back to your apartment.

once inside, you let the dog down, turn to lock the door behind you and barrel your way through your living room, down the small hallway to your bedroom, and dive bomb the bed.

as quickly as your cold, rigor mortis feeling body can, you shuffle back under the blanket. you can feel your body involuntarily shaking as it tries to heat back up.

aaron pops his head up from his pillow, his hair sticking up and flopping over in a way that'd usually make you laugh but you were too cold to even think about moving your face.

"cold?" he asked, a small grin on his face. you knew the second you went outside without any type of warm attire, he was going to give you shit about it. in your defense, you really didn't think it'd be that cold. and you definitely didn't think it'd be snowing again. the apartment was warm and with the body heat between you and aaron in bed would've made it too warm for you to sleep in pants and an actual shirt, so you opted to sleep in shorts and a tank top.

"freezing," you say and reach your hand out under the covers to find his arm. he actually yelps when you touch his warm skin and yanks his arm away from you. that makes you laugh. your lips feel like they might shatter and break off but it's worth it.

"who's fault is that?" he says, scooting over to put an arm around you waist, which is just as cold as your freezing hand.

he lifts his arm up almost immediately after he touches you, and props himself up on his other elbow to look at you.

"jesus, how cold is it out there? you feel like death."

you sniffle a little, "i'm not sure, but it's snowing pretty heavily."

you watch as he gets out of bed and shuffles his socked feet over to your dresser. "she took her time this time around, god knows why..." your voice trails off as you watch him pull out a pair of black sweat pants and a pair of black socks. "what're you doing?" (as if you didn't already know.)

he makes his way to your side of the bed and he shoves the blanket off your body. he grabs your ankle and yanks you towards him. he leans over you and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and peels them off your shivering legs. he drops them on the floor, and takes the sweatpants that he got from your dresser and slides them up your legs. you ground your feet on the mattress and pull them up over your hips to help him while he starts putting the socks on your feet. he dramatically flings your legs back where they were and tucks you in.

you watch with a giggling grin on your face as he rounds the bed and crawls back under the covers. you both scoot to meet in the center of the queen size bed and he pulls you into his side. you slide your leg inbetween his and burrow yourself into the side of his body, nuzzling your still cold nose into his neck. "thank you."

he inhales a sharp breath at the sudden cold and chuckles. "next time..." you shove your cold hand over his mouth. "yeah, yeah." he kisses your palm and then turns to kiss your forehead.

"i'll take her out next time," he tells you, quietly, noticing that your eyes have already drifted closed.

you're already starting to de-thaw and melt into his arms but you manage a hum in response. he jostles you and your eyes fly open. he laughs.

"i'm going to bite you." you tell him sleepily. the warmth of the clothes he put on your plus his body heat was lulling you quickly back to sleep.

"don't make promises you can't keep, sweetheart."

you half-heartedly bite his collarbone and he lets out another huff of a laugh. he shifts you so that you're laying directly on top of him, his arms circled tightly around your middle, anchoring you to him. you nuzzle your face fully into his throat and close your eyes, content and warm and so, so sleepy.

you feel his breath even out under you and you're so close to falling back asleep when you hear a yapping bark and scratching at the side of the bed.

you feel aaron flinch and then sigh. you laugh into his throat and he quickly rolls you so that he's on top of you. "what're you laughing at, ice cube?"

he looks over at the side table at the clock. it was barely six am. he looks down at the dog. "there's no way you have to go out again..."

you look over at the clock too and sigh. "it's her breakfast time."

you sigh again, pushing at him to get off of you. "i'll feed her, go back to sleep." he doesn't budge.

"i said i'd get up next time." he rolls off you and swiftly stands up pulling his shirt that was on the floor next to him over his head.

you don't argue, you just bunch the blanket up in your arms and cuddle into it. "okay." he laughs and rolls his eyes as he disappears out of the bedroom, the tiny tapping of the dog following behind him.

you're almost asleep again when you hear him shuffle back in. he crawls back into bed, and pulls the blanket out of your grasp so that he can fully cover himself. you wiggle your way back to his side and nestle into him again.

he pulls you into him, his arms circling your body and lulling his head against the top of yours. "it sure is cold out there in the streets."

you laugh and fling a pillow at his face.

[writinghotchner]

the infinite amount of times you saved yourself, and the one time you didn't have to

Pairing: aaron hotchner/reader Rating: M (sfw) Warning: talks of self harm & depression (nothing too descriptive)

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i really don't know why this came into my brain, but i couldn't shake it so...here we go. please mind the warnings and take care of yourselves <3

----

you have a small moment of wanting to relapse after being clean for so long and aaron finds you in the bathroom

you've dealt with self harm since you could remember. it started with hitting yourself as a child and then progressed into scratching, and then eventually when you got a little older, you got your hands on a pack of brand new razor blades. and then it became a problem. it stemmed from lack of control, a therapist once told you, so any time you felt like you were in a situation you couldn't control - or felt the need to control - you'd immediately take it out on yourself. the only thing you could control was the pain. and, as sad as it is, it always made you feel better. it stopped the spiraling and the crying and the heaving of breathe that you could never fully suck into your lungs.

you're not entirely sure how you got here in this moment. in your underwear and bra on the bathroom floor of the apartment you share with your boyfriend. he works for the fbi, travels a lot, never really seems to be home...but it still works. you've never been in such a healthy, loving relationship before, despite the distance. so maybe that's why you feel the tinge of guilt sitting on top of the unbearable sadness that rumbles in your chest like a brewing hurricane.

you're happy. for maybe the first time in your life. you have a great, albeit, stressful job, a handful of good friends and you're potentially with the love of your life...so...how did you get here? on the floor of the bathroom in the apartment that you share with your boyfriend. who is, unfortunately, or fortunately, still at work. he wasn't out of town, thankfully, but his attention was still needed in quantico. he could potentially show up at any moment. and that sends a bizarre lightening strike of adrenaline down your spine. if you're going to do it, now's the time. before he comes home and sees the mess you've made, yet again, and leaves. like almost everyone else has done before.

you know this is a pattern. you'd been stuck in a depression vortex for most of your life, so when good things start happening your brain immediately throws you ten steps backwards, and you wind up like that scared, lonely teenager, clutching something sharp and willing yourself to either do it...or don't.

you'd never really been good with talking yourself out of it. and now is no different. you can do it, and hide it for as long as you can. put on the facade that everything is and has always been great. and then he'll see the fresh marks, and you'll immediately fall back into being that scared, lonely child begging people to not leave you.

you'd done this so many times that it's almost comical that you keep hoping that this is the one time you can talk yourself out of it. but then, what else can you brag about, if not that your are your own hero. always the one to save yourself. not that anyone's ever really stuck around long enough to even try to be the hero.

but still, you picture aaron charging through the bathroom door, his short hair suddenly long and flowing in some magical wind and lifting you into his big, strong arms and hauling you off to some beautiful place where you can breathe.

you close your eyes and sigh. your legs are starting to go numb from how your sitting on the tile floor. now or never the pathetic little voice floats around your brain.

you take a deep breath, straighten out your left arm and grip the razor blade tighter....

just as your about to zip the blade through your flesh, you hear the front door open and then close. you hear aaron shuffling around calling out for you.

"honey?" he says loudly, walking into the bedroom, where the bathroom your in is attached to.

for some reason, that's what breaks you. you let the blade fall out of your hand and choke on a sob that has been threatening to come out since you got home.

you can hear him on the other side of the door, jiggling the handle. "honey, are you in here?" the door is locked and you don't know if you have it in you to get up and let him in. funnily enough, you're not sure you want him to come him - despite the little hero fantasy you had moments ago.

you suck in a deep breath and you try to calm your voice. "hey, yeah, i'll be out in a second. just getting out of the shower."

you wince at your lie and you can immediately tell that he doesn't believe you. he's a professionally trained human reader, of course he was going to see right through that. maybe you kinda wanted him to.

"sweetheart," he says softly. "i can hear it in your voice. please open the door."

your lip quivers as this unknown fear settles deep inside of you. you've never been so scared of someone seeing this side of you.

another sob escapes you before you even realize it was there, and you know it was loud enough for him to hear. he doesn't wait for you to open the door, instead he throws the side of his hip into it and it cracks open, a piece of small metal clanking around on the ground from the handle.

you can't even look up at him. you've crumbled in on yourself, legs crossed and elbows on your thighs, head in your hands as you finally just let it all out.

"hey," he says softly, and you can suddenly feel his big warm hand on your bare back. "are you hurt? what's going on?"

he moves his hand off your back and puts it softly around your wrist, pulling it away from your face. he uses his other hand to turn your face to him, his eyes immediately scanning for any blood or wounds.

"y/n, i need you to say something, i'm thinking the worst here," he whispers, his eyes never leaving yours. the hand that he used to move your face is now cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away the falling tears.

you still don't say anything, if anything the embarrassment of it all has your tongue. so instead you sit up and fall into his chest where he immediately circles his arms around your shoulders, hugging you to him securely. your heart thuds in your chest as you realize at this position, he can see the fallen razor blade that was to the side of you, hidden by your legs before. you know he's going to see it, he sees everything.

sure enough, you can tell when he spots it. because he pushes your body way from him his, just far enough to where he can look down at your entire body, looking for any signs of blood or bandaging.

"i didn't-" you rasp out. he runs his hands up your arms and uses both hands to cup your cheeks. you can't place the expression on his face, but you know it isn't good. it's never good to make someone you love so much worry so much about you. you feel stupid and even more embarrassed now. a vicious cycle.

"were you going to?" he asks. the concern in his voice loud enough to knock you over.

more tears fall, you want to curl in on yourself and hide away under the rug, but he doesn't let you move your head.

"i think so."

"honey.." his voice is so sad and so concerned. it breaks you even more. you fall back into his chest and he lets you, his arms once again coming around to hug you to him.

"is this something you've done before?"

you take in a deep breath. being in his arms like this always makes you feel better, and the fact that he can't see your face right now makes this conversation a tiny bit easier.

"since i was a kid," you blow out a steady stream of air, willing the hurricane in your chest to go with it. "i stopped for a long time. it felt kinda childish to keep doing it well into adulthood, so i replaced it with other things...." you trail off and he squeezes you tighter and kisses your shoulder.

"and then, y'know, you get older, you get a job, you learn how to distract your brain from the self destructive cycle. but i think i locked the beast away for too long, because tonight i just...couldn't..."

you feel him take in a deep breath. he pulls away from you and runs his hands down your arms and holds your hands.

"i'm glad you didn't. is there anything i can do to help? can we maybe make a plan for the future so it doesn't come down to this again?"

you nod. "i've...never had anyone offer that before. most people just...leave."

he pulls you into a small, soft kiss. his hands are back on your cheeks, and he pushes your hair out of your face. "it'll take a lot more than this to make me leave, honey. we can get through this together. whatever you need."

and for the first time in your entire life, you didn't care about having bragging rights to being your own savior. for once, you can't wait to tell someone how you met the love of your life and how he stood by your side and helped you through the unimaginable. and never gave up on you.