it's a pet peeve of mine when ppl frame Andrew as hating Aaron and being needlessly cruel to him... bc while yes, their relationship is fractured and strained, Andrew genuinely cares about his brother and wants the best for him, he just doesn't know how to show that in a normal way.

like he might not know how to express it in a healthy manner but Andrew LOVES Aaron, like he truly just wants Aaron to be healthy and safe. It's like, his whole Thing. Aaron is one of the most important people in his life. Andrew wants him around. He'd do anything to protect him.

I guarantee Andrew wants to be emotionally close to Aaron too, he just doesn't have the tools to do that and the thought of letting someone in terrifies him. He also has no concept of what a healthy sibling relationship looks like, so he has no frame of reference to work from.

👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!

like dad does

aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3

you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.

likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.

but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.

"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."

"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"

"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"

he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.

"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"

"a meeting."

your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"

jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."

his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.

"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."

your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"

he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.

"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."

"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.

"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."

you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.

it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.

and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.

you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.

"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.

"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"

"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."

Hello lovely jade! Can I please request something with Hotch and shy!reader where she just wants him to stroke her hair but is struggling to ask? Love you xx

Lean on me if you're tired, he'd said. 

You couldn't think of a way to say no, didn't want to, so now your cheek is pressed to Hotch's shoulder and your skin tingles each time he moves, reminded of how close you are. Hotch has held you much closer than this, wouldn't have offered his shoulder as a pillow otherwise, but it's still egregiously nerve-wracking. 

And it opens the door for more longing. 

“How much longer?” you ask quietly. 

The dark sky outside and the dim light of the jet demands gentleness. 

“An hour.” He reaches for your thigh, letting his hand rest there, not quite flat. “You can sleep. I'll wake you up when we get there.” 

“Maybe I will,” you murmur, turning your face further into his arm. 

His hand brushes slowly down to your knee. You'd tried to sleep already and had no luck. Hotch —or Aaron, as he insists you call him whenever you're alone— could have you sleeping in minutes if he'd just do that thing he does in bed, your heads on his pillows, his elbow behind your back. He pats your hair so particularly in that it's an unmeasured touch. He changes rhythm, pressure, never too fast or rough but non-continuous. It's unlike him, and it never fails to soothe you to sleep. 

“What's wrong?” he whispers. 

He sounds different when he talks to you outside of work. Sometimes on cases too, he slips into a different voice to accompany his different roles. Right now, he's loving boyfriend, and his affection for you is a breezy, sweet tone. 

“Nothing, I just can't sleep.” 

“No?” He kisses the soft of your cheek. “Is there something keeping you up?” You fluster immediately at his kiss and he knows you will. He gives your leg a sorry touch. “Let me put my arm behind you.” 

“Actually, could you…” Awkwarder not to ask now, frozen on the tongue, you realise how stupid and vulnerable it is to want him to stroke your hair, how he should offer something like that voluntarily, not because you forced him to. “I would…” 

“What?” he asks, lifting his hand to your chin. He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger gently. 

“It's silly.” 

“Hmm.” He hums, looking down at you, eyes practically boring into yours. He smiles knowingly after a moment. “You want me to do something,” he teases. 

Your breath catches. You turn your face down into the chair, mortified, because he can't not have heard it, but he doesn't tease again. His arm pushes behind your back, wrapping around your shoulders, and his hand covers your ear as he pulls you into his side. It's not the most comfortable of positioning until you curl into him and wrap your own arm around his waist. 

“Try to sleep,” he says, as his fingers rise to the top of your ear, and then pass over your hair. He strokes a long, steady line, and when he gets to the base of your head he moves his hand back to the top. He strokes your hair for as long as it takes for you to fall asleep, and a little while after, too. 

Day 16: Washing Hair

AARON HOTCHNER X F!READER [0.7k]

Summary: Your boyfriend returns from a case hurt, and it's only fair that you get to take care of him.

Content: Vague description of injury; fluff; one nsfw thought (this probably doesn't need to be a warning, but i'm putting it anyway)

Author's Note: I would do anything to baby this man and wash his hair. I need it so so bad :,(

Masterlist || FF Masterlist

When he's Hotch, he's the epitome of strong and capable.

When he's Aaron, he's still both of those things, but he's also a major softy.

Anything you ask for, you get, and that includes the chance to baby him when he returns from a case with a bruise along his cheekbone and a butterfly bandage holding his eyebrow together. Despite his insistence that he was fine, you were determined to do everything in your power to make sure without a doubt that he was more than just 'fine'.

He had rolled his eyes when you suggested taking a warm bath together, but he agreed all the same.

Now, with your nails lightly scratching his scalp as you worked shampoo in his hair, he's grateful he couldn't say no to you.

It was difficult not to fall asleep, the lavender bath oil calming him to the point that he was completely relaxed against you, his body weight pinning you against the tub. You didn't mind a single bit, in fact, feeling him this close was everything you needed after seeing him battered and bruised.

You knew his job was dangerous, but that still wasn't enough to prepare you.

"My love, what happened?" you had asked, panic clear in your voice as you immediately looked him over to ensure the rest of his body was intact.

The embrace you pulled him into once you were satisfied he was okay was far more powerful than he was ready for. His muscles ached in protest, but he suppressed the groan in his chest so you wouldn't feel guilty for hurting him.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," he had assured. "You should see the other guy."

With how concerned you were before, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate his joke till now.

Your unexpected giggle in his ear forces his eyes to open, and you gently remind him to keep them closed, not wanting to risk getting soap in them. It's unnecessary, he can handle a bit of soap in his eyes, but you're absolutely adorable when you coddle him, and he thoroughly enjoys it.

It gives him the chance to relax and not be so serious, which is a nice change of pace. He knows he's safe and protected in your hands, and that's all he needs.

"What are you giggling about?"

"Just thinking about what you said earlier," you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Aaron turns his head and puckers his lips dramatically, looking absolutely ridiculous. Still, you indulge him with a sweet and firm kiss.

"Remind me what I said, baby."

His voice is gruff, and you're sure it has to do with him running on hardly any sleep and the jet lag, but you tell yourself it's because you have magic hands.

You hadn't realized he stopped rubbing your legs that lay on either side of his till he started again, thumbs moving in circular motions. It sends a wave of excitement through you. Not the kind that makes you want to jump his bones, you always want to do that regardless of what he does, but the kind that tells you you'll never get used to the little things.

Physical touch is his love language and you cherish the hell out of it.

You put your hand on his forehead to protect his eyes and bandages as you run water through his hair, washing the soap away. "You should see the other guy," you repeat his words, lowering your voice to match his.

He pinches your side, and it tickles more than anything. You jostle so much that water splashes out of the tub.

"Aaron," you gasp, "look what you did."

"I didn't do that. That was all you, little miss ticklish."

He can't see your face but he knows you roll your eyes, and that makes him laugh. "Well, maybe don't tickle me."

"But where's the fun in that?"

When all the soap is out of his hair, you tip his head back, kissing his forehead. "You're lucky seeing you hurt scared the hell out of me, otherwise I'd get you back."

Your tone is somber and grateful at the same time, the unshed tears in your eyes betraying your emotions.

"Don't worry about that anymore, sweetheart. I'll be good as new with you taking care of me," he says with a smile, and you can't help but do the same.

Taglist: @spacecowboyhotch, @hotchs-bitch

Hi Hasse!! What do you think about Vladimir and Aaron's silly relationship? I've read your headcanons about Vladimir's falling from roof and Aaron getting nervous about it, wanna read more about that incident if it's okay with you ^-^ Prends soin! ♡

Headcanons Vladimir's falling from roof :

Hi ! ^^ I hope you are well ^^. To answer your question, i really like the relationship between Vladimir and Aaron, I find it quite cute in a way. You can tell they are very close and Aaron is very used to the fussy mule who is his friend. Aaron already seems very protective of the members of the mansion in general, but it seems to be even worse when it comes to Vladimir and Ivan (which I totally understand if Vladimir was a Disney princess he would be more like Sleeping Beauty than Mulan or Merida and I clearly wouldn't trust him to defend himself). In spite of everything, I find that Aaron doesn't oppose Vladimir enough. He gives the impression of wanting to spare him or not to rush him too much, as if Aaron had understood that he was a very gruff and I think that in the end this is what can often cause problems in their relationship. That's what happens in his route by the way, where he insists on accompanying them to track down Neil (Of course, there's a reason, but you don't need to be a graduate of Saint Cyr to realise that his idea is as ridiculous as it is stupid). We also see that Aaron's main advice is to give in to Vladimir, but to put him in his place when he crosses the line (line that is clearly not defined) while Aaron seems to simply give in to Vladimir's whims. You can see it in Aaron's route (I think) where Vladimir comes to get angry in the kitchen because Aaron and Eloise are there (I guess he reacts like that because Neil is in the cellar, but neither Aaron nor Eloise know about it, so from a purely external point of view, it looks like a whim). In short (because I'm afraid I'm not being clear at all ^^') if Aaron continues to like Vladimir despite his very temperamental side, it's because he must love him enormously, a bit like Ivan who literally does anything but whom Aaron continues to brood/protect. For the rest, here is my headcanon on Vladimir and his fall from the roof. I hope you'll like it. Take care of yourself ! ^-^

There had been a storm on the manor during the day and several tiles were broken. It was necessary to wait for a lull to go and fix the tiles so it would stop raining in the attic.

Aaron clearly didn't feel it. But he had no choice but to ask Vladimir to help him fix the roof. Because of the storm, Ethan had locked himself in his room, and Beliath had broken his arm the day before because of a stupid bet with Ethan. He couldn't ask Ivan anyway, and Raphael had managed to make forget his existence.

Vladimir showed up to fix the roof in his usual aristocratic clothes. Including the slippery shoes, the shirt that was too thin, the lock of hair in front of his eyes and the coat that was far too loose for this kind of work. He refused to change despite the protests of Aaron and Beliath. Well, at least he hadn't taken his cane, that was something...

When he went up on the roof he almost slipped once because of his shoes, much to the dismay of Aaron who caught him. Vladimir then complained that Aaron had hurt him when he caught him.

Although the roof needs to be repaired, Vladimir is obsessed with the disastrous state of his garden and never stops complaining about it. Until Aaron gets angry and asks him to stop complaining and do some work.

It is a 19th century slate roof, the tiles are nailed on. Aaron is used to doing repairs with Beliath or Ethan. Beliath watches them from below because he is not reassured to see Vladimir on the roof.

Vladimir keeps hitting his fingers with the hammer and Aaron begins to bitterly regret not asking Ivan earlier.

He accuses the nails of not wanting to stay in place, then the hammer of not doing what he wants. In any case, it's clearly not his fault, it's the tools Aaron gives him that are of poor quality.

He narrowly misses falling a second time as he gets up and steps on his coat, Aaron again narrowly catches him.

They argue for most of the work. Vladimir doesn't understand why he can't touch the hacksaw but Beliath can. He is no more stupid than the other idiot.

No matter how many times Aaron tells him how to do it, Vladimir keeps making the same mistakes over and over again. But he doesn't feel guilty, it's not his fault, he doesn't repair roofs every day and when he was human he had servants for that!

He finally falls while trying to catch a tile that slipped out of his hand, Aaron doesn't have time to catch it this time.

It took Aaron a long minute before he dared to look down.

His shrubs cushioned part of his fall, for the rest he was very lucky that Ethan was such a good doctor.

Frankly, Aaron had nightmares for several weeks and the vast majority did not end so well.

Vladimir spent two weeks in bed because of his injuries. This made him even more grumpy and sulky than usual.

Aaron spent the vast majority of the two weeks either at Vladimir's bedside or in Vladimir's garden in any case. He wasn't very far from him.

Beliath and Ethan even called her a "mother hen", but not in his presence he was too irascible for that.

Let's just say that since then Aaron has become much more protective of the aristocrat. It's a miracle he didn't die the first time, he doesn't expect the same result if it happens again.

Aaron has formally forbidden him to climb the ladder for any reason whatsoever. This is usually a failure because Vladimir waits until he is not watching him to do so. Unfortunately for him, Beliath is also watching him.

Shortly after his fall from the roof, he was not allowed to get on a chair to change a light bulb or anything else.

It really annoys Vladimir, who feels he is being treated like a child, but his sense of balance is truly catastrophic.

Are Mack and Mandy Getting Too Close For Comfort?

Mackron fanfic.

"Right Lamb Chops let's get you in this shower" said Mandy as she went into the sitting room where Mack had been sleeping on the bed setee. "Here's your crutches now hobble over"

"Can I keep my underpants on?" said Mack who was feeling vulnerable.

"No you can't" said Mandy "That monster lurking in you underpants doesn't scare me and the sun has set on your morning glory" she joked.

"If you insist" said Mack as Mandy whipped his underpants off.

"That wasn't bad now was it?" said Mandy blow drying Macks hair "And we didn't get the plaster wet"

"No but you got your bra and knickers soaked" Mack smiled to himself. "Wait til the whole village finds out we had a shower together"

"Well I had to strip off to my bra and pants and get in the shower with you otherwise I wouldn't have been able to wash you properly.

"What the hell are you two up to" said Aaron as he came into the room "And what are your bra and pants doing on the radiator and worse still why have you got my dressing gown on Mandy"

"Ask no questions and I'll tell you no lies" Mandy replied."I only wish Paddy was as easy going as Mack"

"Well I've done a full English for us when you're ready" said Aaron.

"Tatty scones?" asked Mack.

"Yes otherwise I'll never here the last of it" said Aaron.

"I can stay all day today Aaron" said Mandy "So I can cook us my famous Lancasher Hotpot"

"Traitor" said Aaron.

"Well I'm doing Yorkshire puddings as well" Mandy replied "And for pudding I'm doing scotch pancakes"

"In that case I'll go and buy us some French wine to go with it" said Aaron.

"I'm so glad you two are back on track" said Mandy "You're my favourite couple and I can't wait for tomorrow when you take your wedding vows again. Are you sure you don't want me to paint your nails Mack. I've got a new one in. Silver diamante"

"Oh go on then" said Mack "But only on my pinkie next to my ring finger"

"Your wish is my command handsome sir" laughed Mandy Getting the nail polish out.

28.9.23.

Not My Father

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

*Mature Content Warning*

Summary: Reader gets arrested at a bar. Her boss comes to save her, but after months of frustration she doesn't get the response she expects. However, she receives much more than she can handle. 

"That pervert is lucky all I did was break his nose" You roll your eyes at officer idiot questioning you. Treating you as some sort of criminal, when in actuality you put the worst of criminals away. "Well we called your supervisor; you can take it up with him" The officer snickered, a lump instantly formed in your throat.

"You called who?" You yell at the dumbstruck officer in front of you, clearly not expecting your panicked response. Just after the words left your mouth, your boss crossed the barrier into the holding room. Your stomach instantly flipped, as if you had been caught by a parent as a child. Your eyes meeting his; he stared with the same scolding glare you were expecting. The same look you'd seen many times; it always gave you chills. However, you had never been the one sitting on this side of the table feeling its full force. He folded his arms tightly over his broad chest, eyes lingering at the cuffs connected to your wrist.

At that moment, you couldn't find words to defend what he was seeing, you could only imagine his thoughts. Your barely appropriate dress, your makeup, unlike anything he had seen at work. He finally peeled his eyes off of you, somehow that making you feel even worse.

"Please remove the cuffs, I can handle it from here. Thank you again for the call." Hotch finally spoke, but only to the officer, nodding to him. He returned the nod and quickly walked over removing your restraints.

"Thanks." You gripped at the idiot who arrested you, rolling your eyes at him again. Hotch shot you a warning glare, causing you to sigh while massaging your wrists. This night was utter bullshit. The officer finally left the room, you stood expecting to follow.

"Where do you think you're going?" His stern voice forcing your body to freeze, sending chills down your entire spine. "Um, I thought I was allowed to leave." You replied without looking directly at him, you didn't think you could handle it right now. "You have nothing to say for yourself?" Hotch scoffed.

"I'm sorry?" You questioned, failing to sound sincere. He doesn't respond this time, after an uncomfortable moment of silence you finally looked to meet his stare. He let out a frustrated sigh "Let's go. Before I change my mind." He cautions before leading us through the police station, again thanking the captain and same officer.

"Where is my car?" You ask once outside after you were returned your phone and I.D. "I'm guessing still at the bar you were picked up at, or by now at a towing company. You can deal with that in the morning, get in." He answers not stopping his strides toward the black SUV. You hurry to enter, afraid he might leave you here, the cool night air sending additional chills over your body, still buzzing from earlier.

The ride has an eerie silence, you had never made Hotch this mad at you, the feeling honestly made you want to hurl. You notice you aren't familiar with the street signs you were passing. "Can I ask where we are going?" You break the silence. "My place." He answers blankly, not removing his attention from the road. "Why?" You dare to question. "Because it is late, and you were picked up from a bar." He shot back gripping the steering wheel tighter, not seeming to give you another option.

After ten more agonizing minutes, he finally pulls into a parking garage. You quickly jump out of the car, following Hotch through a few hallways. You felt a wave of awkwardness once he finally stopped at the door. He quickly unlocked it and opened the door for you. You look at the open door, feeling like it was a threshold you shouldn't enter.

"Look I'm fine, I can call a cab to take me to my car." You insist, still not crossing the threshold. "No. You shouldn't be driving, you can stay here." He replied like it was an order. "We aren't at work." You spat not believing him. "Lower your voice, your yelling will wake others." He corrected you again, you noticing the clenching of his jaw. You groaned pushing past him into the apartment.

"Look I appreciate this but.." you start to continue your previous argument but his deep voice cuts you off. "You're correct agent, we are not at work. Meaning, that I did not have to leave my home in the middle of the night, coming to save you from being thrown in jail. You're lucky Jack is away or you would've been there until Monday." He chastised you again, but this time he was right. Although; still being a dick to you of all people.

"I didn't ask you to, I didn't even tell them I was an agent so don't try to make me feel guilty." You plead your case as he began to walk away. "I'm not trying to make you feel anything, maybe if you had more control of your actions you wouldn't be in this situation." He argues turning back in your direction. You finally noticed his different appearance, no jacket or tie, but jeans with an athletic shirt, his hair not styled but falling casually onto his face.

"I don't even want to be in this situation, I'll just go to my car." You huff turning back walking to the door. You just reached the handle, when a large hand came in your line of sight, pushing against the door.

"I'm not letting you leave like this. I don't know your mental state." You hear spoken close behind you. You spin on your heels, slightly taken back by how close your boss was to you. "I promise I'm fine. I wasn't drunk, and it's been hours." You roll your eyes again. "Obviously not, I have never seen you act like this." His voice was desperately trying to hide his frustration with you for the evening, you could see his chest rising against the fitted shirt.

"What? Not perfectly following your orders? Not everyone is perfect like you Hotch." You were yelling at this point, and you didn't care. You had never seen a person with more patience and composure than Hotch, but you finally broke him. "You allegedly assaulted someone at a bar drunk, get arrested, risk your career, the reputation of the BAU, and my credibility as Supervisor. You honestly think you should go back out right now?" He yelled back shocking you, feeling his minty breath fan across your face.

"You don't even know my side of the story!" You gasp at his assumptions. "How am I supposed to when you wouldn't tell me?" He hisses, still holding his same position, you had never seen such fire in his eyes.

"You are not my fucking father Hotch" You yell again, refusing to let him overpower you.

Your back hit the door with a thud, causing you to groan into his mouth. His hands gripping onto your hips roughly, pulling your bodies as close as possible. One of your hands latching his shoulder to steady yourself, while your other tugged at his soft hair.

"Then stop being a damn brat" He all out growls directly in your face, not missing a beat. Your not sure who moves first, you honestly think it was instantaneous, but before you blinked your mouths clash desperately, hands frantically grasping onto wherever you could reach first.

You purposely tugged harder, retrieving a groan from him, hearing it igniting a hunger in you. His lips slightly parted, so you took advantage sliding your tongue over his, still determined not to be overpowered.

Your control is short-lived, as he shifts his leg up, making you gasp at the contact, your head craning against the cold door. Even on your tiptoes, you couldn't relieve the pressure, perching you upon his thick thigh, causing your dress to bunch leaving only your damp underwear as a barrier.

"Did you think after your little game, I'd let you control me, sweetheart?" He huffs against your ear, in an even deeper tone than he usually held. You had never been affected by a pet name, but just coming from him made your walls clench, further agonizing you. You finally open your eyes, batting up at his dark eyes innocently. "I don't know what you mean" you smirk. You felt a low chuckle in his chest, and then you were swiftly moved, flipping you to face the door.

"I'm having a hard time believing that y/n. You've spent months purposely teasing and frustrating me. This..." he pauses his sentence, using his foot to spread your ankles, gripping your wrist together. "Is exactly what you wanted correct?" He completes the question as a whisper against your ear, making you shutter against him. You weren't giving in that easy.

"I honestly didn't think you had it in you...old man." You further push him, knowing your slight age difference being one of the things you regularly tease him about. He groans lowly at your words, pushing you harder against the door. "I still remember exactly how to handle a brat like you"

He punctuates the end of his sentence by effortlessly ripping your thin underwear from under your skirt, throwing the torn fabric to the floor. You shook at the cool air hitting your core, finally noticing how wet you were. His fingers brush over your center, gently spreading your arousal. You bite your lip to keep in the moans your body desperately want to release.

"Then why are you so wet for me sweetheart, hum?" Hotch hums in your ear, pushing his thick finger slowly into your pussy. You don't bother trying to hold in your moans this time, overwhelmed by the feeling of your muscles clenching around this finger, attempting to take it as deep as possible.

As if a single finger wasn't enough, he added a second stretching you delightfully. You scratch against his hand, as if some sort of plea, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop as you could feel the pleasure building in your stomach. "Something wrong?" He coos arrogantly, watching your face morphing, as your pants of pleasure increase.

"Nothing" You manage to smart back without it sounding completely of a moan. By this point, you drenched his fingers, coating them entirely, letting him fuck his fingers into you as fast as he pleased. You hear a faint growl come deep from Hotch's chest, almost sounding frustrated. "Don't you lie to me; If you are not honest you don't get what you want sweetheart" "And what do I want?" You laugh through a heavy breath.

He shifts an unoccupied finger up to graze your clit every time his fingers plunge into you, making you gasp against the cold door. He leans down to your neck, tickling your skin with his beard. "To be fucked like you wish those boys you entertain would fuck you." Hearing your boss talk like that sends you spiraling, throwing your head back onto his chest to support you as your legs began to feel weak. Just as you clench around his fingers he retracts them, leaving you dripping down your thigh, craving satisfaction.

"What the fuck?" You yell spinning quickly to face him, he catches you by the neck placing you against the door again. Your breath caught, you felt like you didn't have a voice with his large hand around your throat. The way he was staring at you, like his prey. It made your knees weak.

He lifts his other hand between your bodies, you could see his middle fingers glistening. He keeps his eyes nailed to yours, you still trying to calm your pathetic pants. Your mouth gapes as you watch him take the fingers in his mouth, he groans out twirling his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment savoring your taste. You were fucked.

He removes his fingers slowly, still watching you staring at him with big doe eyes. Then wiping the edge of his mouth with his hand. "Watch it, sweetheart. I'm not sure if you haven't caught on... but I always give the orders. You will not cum until I allow." You whimper loudly at his declaration, you had never had a man command you like this, but you couldn't deny the effect it was having on your body.

"I'll do what you say." You whisper, barely audible, looking away from his eyes. Loosening his hand on your neck, using it to make you look back up to him. A faint smirk now played at the corner of his lips. "What was that?" He lightly chuckles. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"I said I'll do what you say. Happy?" You return the smirk. "Hmm, honestly I thought you'd be harder to break. I think you're just trying to get what you want." He informs you, moving his face closer to yours. You shrug your shoulders innocently. "Is it working?" You breathe against his lips before gripping onto his shirt pulling him flush against you.

His mouth explores yours again; it's without a doubt the best kiss of your life. He was so skilled in his movements, and how he taunted you with his hands without actually pleasuring you. Maybe you had been dealing with boys before.

Hotch gripping into your hips, lifting you slightly before walking your bodies away from the door. You hardly notice he was moving you until your legs hit the back of a couch. He instantly spun you around making you a bit dizzy, folding you at the waist over the couch.

You couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face hearing the chime of his belt buckle, you were getting exactly what you wanted. "I wouldn't gloat so quickly y/n" Hotch warns. You try to look back to observe but cannot move from him keeping a hand on your neck, pushing your chest into the oversized cushion.

"And I shouldn't because?" You entertain his warning. "Because this" is the only answer he provides, and you then feel the pressure. That of him forcing his cock in you with a single plunge, burying himself to your brim, ripping through any defiance left in you.

"Aaron!" You scream out his first name, gasping for the air he just knocked from your stomach. He was massive, stretching you uncomfortably, you didn't have to see it to know you had never taken a cock this big. You were also sinfully a sucker for pain.

"Fuck" he groans above you, surly your tightness was affecting him also. You knew that he rammed into you purposely, not wanting you to be able to conform to his size before punishing you.

He made the single motion again, burying himself again and stopping, making you cry out again. "What's wrong sweetheart? A brat like you can take it right?" His breathing is labored now, one hand still tightly holding you down, the other now roughly gripping your hip. He repeats the same hard single thrust, you can feel tears building at your lashes. The way he filled you was overwhelming.

"Please" you beg, squirming under him. You weren't sure what you were begging for at this point, you just needed him. Every time he stills you could feel his cock pulsing deep in you, not delivering enough pleasure to relieve you, but only to further drive you mad.

"Oh, now you want to do what you're told huh? Now you beg like a pathetic whore." He responds with another snap of his hips. You couldn't take much more, you felt as if you could combust at any second. "Aaron I can't..please" you cry, feeling the tears stream over your face, he had finally broken you.

"Go ahead baby, call me what you really want. Go ahead." He groans, pulling your head back by a fist full of your hair. He didn't have to say it, you knew exactly what he meant, and he knew you wanted it. So you let everything out, all the months of frustration boiling over.

"Daddy, please...I'm yours...please" You wish you could've recorded the sound that escaped Aaron at that moment, a loud groan mixed with a needy whine. Matched by feeling his cock twitch inside you, struggling to stay composed hearing that name.

He throws his hips into you again, but this time it follows with another quick thrust, over and over, filling the room with a slapping noise and your moans. He keeps your hair pulled back, making your body hold the arch for him to angle deeper, brushing your g spot with each hard thrust.

"Yes yes yes, don't stop" You scream, him finally giving you what you needed. "Can you take it, baby? You're so damn tight" He grunts, you weren't going to last with him calling you baby. "Yes, daddy, harder please" you plea, wanting him to ruin you. He grants your wish, fucking you harder, you gasping feeling it all the way in your stomach. You would certainly be bruised tomorrow, but the pain would be worth it.

"Fuck daddy. So good... so fucking deep." You cry, feeling your body begin to tingle, your legs shaking against him. He groans feeling you tightening "Cum for daddy sweetheart." He encourages through his heavy breaths, and that's all it takes to make your body snap. He slows his motions slightly letting you ride out your orgasm, your walls still fluttering around his thick cock.

He releases your head, you not having the energy to stay upright you letting it hang down against the couch. "Shit that's was amazing" You whisper, causing him to chuckle and slowly begin to move into you again. Your eyes flash open realizing he still hadn't finished.

"Aaron I can't" you whine, your body couldn't possibly take more of this. "Oh I'm not finished, and neither are you" He growls in your ear, you couldn't help but moan out at his tone. "I can't take anymore" You whine again, only fueling him. He releases the hand that was holding you, now gripping onto both of your hips harshly, definitely leaving a mark. There was no reason to restrain you anymore, he knew you were his.

Hotch returns to the same pace he held previously, causing your eyes to roll back as you yelp, grasping onto the couch for dear life it felt. "Don't forget your place sweetheart. You're done when I say brat..." he pauses his sentence, repositioning one of his hands to your front. "And I think you can give me one more." He states as he set fire to your body rubbing fiercely over your clit, steadily pushing himself deep, determined to make you unravel again.

"Daddy" You scream, feeling your body giving in to him, his thrust becoming frantic, his moans become beastly with each thrust. "Give it to me y/n. Ahh... fuck. I know you want to baby." Is his final pleasuring cry to take you with him, as he made a final slap against your body to sheathe himself fully.

"Oh, Aaron" Is all you can cry as the air hitches in your throat. All at once, your body erupts again, feeling him filling you with his seed. Grasping onto him to anchor yourself to reality, uncertain this level if euphoria is real, or if you'll ever get to relive it again.

Drained of any energy, your body collapses into his, feeling his arms catch you and lifting you sweetly into his embrace. Although; unable to open your eyes, you feel him carefully carrying you, and then the soft cushion of a bed. You weren't sure how long he was gone, but your body slightly jumps at the feeling of a wet cloth between your thighs.

"Wha..what are you doing?" You mutter against a pillow and hear him softly laugh at you. "I've got you, sweetheart, just rest" He replies in a very tender voice. He softly wipes your leg, erasing the proof of your shared pleasure. Even half-conscious you had never felt so adored. Following; you feel him slide the heels off your feet, and then tug at the end of your dress to remove it. Your dress is finally off, and you feel it would be silly to care about after the deed you two just committed.

You are only naked for a couple of seconds before he wiggles a soft t-shirt over your body, oversized enough to be a nightgown. It smells strongly of him, which comforted you, but not as much as him pulling you into his bare chest, kissing your forehead just as you slip into an exhausted sleep.

Please let me know if this should be turned into a short series! Thanks loves!

...dance 'til you find someone to die for...

What if instead of Seth, Riko tried to get rid of Aaron?

Chapter 19 ♟️ [table of contents]

(CW: swearing, physical violence, bullying, allusion to Nathan Wesninski)

"Katelyn dumped his ass," Neil announced one day as he stepped into the monsters' dorm, a few weeks after the couple had indeed broken up. After Aaron had broken up with her.

"What?" Nicky yelled, dropping the carton of milk he was taking out of the fridge. Aaron didn't even bother with giving them a proper answer, he simply carried on with his book. "No way. No way! How do you know? Is Katelyn spreading hate now?" Nicky yelled again, dumbfounded.

"According to Marissa, Katelyn couldn't handle being with a monster who kills people, especially 'after all she went through for him'. Can't say I'm surprised she quit you. Don't know if it's the 'quitter' part or the 'you' part that makes more sense, though," Neil shrugged.

Kevin, who hadn't uttered a word since Neil barged in, was watching Aaron very closely. Waiting for him to snap. "Well, well... Since you have all the facts, I think your job here is done. You wouldn't mind breathing somewhere else, now, would you?" Aaron said, calmly, his eyes never looking up from the page he was reading.

Silence fell upon the room.

"O-kay, hold on. Not to be insensitive here, but, uh, since when are you and Marissa talking, Neil?" Nicky asked, hands waving around.

"We're not. She ambushed me. She keeps doing that, and I don't like it. How do you get rid of leeches like that?" Neil answered, unconcerned.

"Aw, thought you respected women, Josten," Aaron said.

"Thought you had a girlfriend, piece of shit," Neil counterattacked.

This time, Aaron's eyes looked up sharply, finding Neil's in a heartbeat. Coolly, he closed his book, and sat up on the couch he'd been lying on. "Go on. You seem to know more than anyone here. We're listening," Aaron said, his tone cold as ice.

"If you insist. Maybe now that she's out of the way, you'll pull your head out of your ass and do something about Andrew. Get your shit together. Move on. Be useful, and help us beat the Ravens. Oh wait, you can't play yet. What good are you, then? Honestly?" Neil asked, most genuinely.

Aaron stood up. Went right into Neil's face. "You think you know so much. You seem to forget that, with Kate now out of the way, as you so kindly stated, Andrew is the one breaking our deal. And for what? A loudmouth bastard like you? Tell, me, are you worth it?" Aaron whispered in Neil's ear.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Neil replied.

"Oh? Oh… Oh my god, you don't know. You don’t see shit. You don't even know... And you have the nerve to come here and talk about Katelyn... You think you've got it all figured out... You know absolutely nothing," Aaron said, a humorless laugh escaping his throat.

"Heyyy, chill, guys. I'll walk Neil to his dorm, alright? Jeez, and they say gays are dramatic..." Nicky jumped in.

"No, no, I'll leave. Don't bother," Aaron brushed past Neil to open the door.

Kevin got up from the couch as well, following Aaron. He'd been surprisingly silent throughout the whole exchange, but Aaron knew he was just preparing his speech for when he'd corner him alone. Both men left, Aaron slamming the door in frustration.

But it didn't end there, because Neil fucking Josten rarely left things alone when he should.

Neil reopened the door and got out in the hallway, following them. "Why do you never fight? Why don't either of you ever fight back? Do you genuinely enjoy being the two resident cowards of this team? What's it gonna take for you to finally snap and do something about your fucking lives? Fight, goddamn it! Do something!" Neil yelled at both men.

And that was it for Aaron. Enough was enough.

Aaron launched himself at Neil. He grabbed handful of Neil's hair and pulled, pulled so hard, pulled him against himself only to slam him back against the wall. Rage and despair swirled in Aaron's eyes, and Neil saw it. And he got scared. Not that Aaron would hurt him; Aaron could beat him all he wanted, it would never be as bad as what his father had once done to him. But his father... Neil had carried his genes in him. Had his way with words in him. And Neil didn't want to become his father, when fury filled him up to the brim and blinded him enough to cause chaos and destruction. Neil still knew when he crossed a line. Knew when he completely obliterated one; knew when he couldn't come back from that. This was one of those moments. And he was sorry for it.

Before Aaron could crush him into the wall again, Kevin stepped in. He took hold of both Aaron's wrists and pulled him away. They took multiple steps back, Aaron's breaths coming out harsh, his fists clenched in Kevin's hands but his body not fighting back Kevin's hold. If Aaron's face hadn't been red with wrath… If his eyes hadn't been glassy with pain… If his veins hadn’t been about to pop from the overwhelming wave of hatred that was coming over him...

If Aaron hadn’t been Aaron, and if Kevin hadn’t been Kevin... It could have looked like Kevin was a thoughtful teammate embracing his friend from the back. But that wasn't what it was.

Aaron wanted to... He wanted...

He wanted.

He stopped straining, and leaned back against Kevin's solid form. He unclenched his fists, his jaw, and closed his eyes. They burned with unshed tears that were fighting to come out, but simply wouldn't. Kevin's arms around his chest untightened a bit, before squeezing him again, not too strong, not too soft. A show of support in this sea of madness.

Both men finally let go once Aaron's breathing had gone back to normal. Carefully, Aaron took Kevin’s hand and removed it from his chest, before his gaze finally left the floor and directed itself right at Neil. Aaron looked like he had a million things to say, to scream, but in the end, Neil fucking Josten wasn’t worth it. Not now, and certainly not for this. If Neil couldn’t see the battles Aaron was still fighting, if he couldn’t see Kevin’s… then that was on him. Aaron turned and left, the slamming of the doors at the end of the hallway echoing as the two other men watched him go. Kevin followed Aaron’s form with his forest eyes until he disappeared down the stairwell. He felt uneasy at the idea of Aaron wandering alone at a time like this, but he had one thing to say before he allowed himself to leave as well.

He turned back to face Neil and took a deep breath. “You’re a bad friend, Neil.”

Neil’s eyes widened. “Friend? I’m not here to be his friend!” Neil spat back.

“You should be. You should be...” Kevin said with a low voice, hurt and disappointment tainting it.

“He doesn’t want me to be his friend. And I certainly don’t either. I can’t be bad at something neither of us wanted. And if-“

“What about me?” Kevin interrupted.

Neil’s mouth formed a thin line, his jaw clenching tight to fight back the impulse of saying whatever shitty clapback came to mind. “What about you,” Neil chose to answer.

“Am I not your friend, after everything? Are you not mine? Is it because I’m not gentle? Because I push you where the others coddle you? I gave you my word in exchange for your game. I chose you. And I gave you a reason to try, and live one more day. Isn’t that more than anyone else has ever given you? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Kevin answered, his face absent of anger but his voice heavy with some kind of deeper, painful emotion. “I am not kind. I am not caring, I am not thoughtful, I am not good. I'm still learning. But I give you my everything. I have grown more than you can see. So has Aaron. I cannot say the same about you yet. Simply because your death is nearing, doesn’t mean you can be an asshole to everyone else who might be going through it. We’re all dying in some ways. But I’m not ready to let you go just yet. I told you you should have been pro. I’m not giving up on that. I’ll still give you everything. I’m not expecting anything in return but your best on the court. Still, it won’t kill you any faster to try and be a better friend. Because that’s what you are to me now. I just wish you would see that. And care about it.”

Kevin wanted to wait, wanted to hear what Neil might have to say, but in the end, he decided against it. If Neil was this speechless, if he had no words of apology or comfort to offer right there and then, well... Kevin was done here. Above all, he wanted Neil to take in every word he had said. Kevin took one last look at Neil's flushed, stunned and hurt face, and turned around to go in search of Aaron.

He didn't have to go very far. As he went down Fox Tower, he could hear some faint noises coming from the first floor's gym, some choked up voice that Kevin had learned to seek. Kevin followed the distant sounds and found himself looking, through the glass doors of the indoor gym, at an absolutely enraged Aaron. Redder in the face than he had been upstairs, and angrier, too. The man had chosen to take his burning anger out on a lonely punching bag that wasn't even hung up. Aaron wasn't even aiming, he was just punching and kicking, and punching and kicking, and-

He was going to hurt himself. This was in no way 'light exercise'. Kevin didn't know if Aaron was stupid enough not to follow his doctors' advice, at the risk of injuring himself furthermore, or if the whole point was to indeed worsen his condition. Maybe he wanted it to hurt. Maybe he wanted to hurt. How else would he feel something stronger than hatred?

Kevin contemplated letting Aaron tire himself out, or even joining him, but he had to keep his cool, this time, for both of their sakes. He entered the gym, and that's all it took for Aaron to stop. Because, unknowingly, Kevin had just offered him a better target.

"I thought you would come with me. Imagine my surprise when I turned around and realized you had decided to chat some more with the delight that is Neil fucking Josten. Did you ask for the crunchy details of my breakup? Did he convince you of his foolproof masterplan to achieve the Great Minyard Reconciliation? Did you let him run his dirty little mouth until his bag of insults was empty? Huh? Which was it?" Aaron spat.

Kevin was taken aback. "None of the above," he slowly replied, cautious.

"Oh, really? Did you guys bond, then? Or did you just let him walk all over you? Did you just let him do and say whatever he wants? Like all the others do?" Aaron yelled in reply.

"I didn't let him do shit. And don't say that. You can't say that. Not you..." Kevin responded, his tone low yet thunderous, if not hurt.

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry. You didn't let him do shit? You didn't let him do shit? Like you didn't let me do shit? Why couldn't you just let me punch his face right in? Why–" Aaron yelled again, before Kevin cut him off.

"Why are you so angry with me? I thought we were just fine when you left... I didn't come here for you to yell at me when I just stopped Neil from doing the same. Tell me what's going on or reel it in," he said.

Aaron's nostrils flared before he turned his back to Kevin, and started fighting with the punching bag again. Kevin sighed. His heart ached strangely at the sight of Aaron wrestling with demons he couldn't see, but knew all too well. Kevin sprung into action when Aaron's knuckles started to split and smear blood over the material of the bag. He didn't try to stop or restrain him, this time, he simply took away the bag. But Aaron wasn't done.

"Goddammit, Day! I can't beat Josten, I can't beat the bag! Let me have something, will you?" Aaron shouted, getting right into Kevin's face.

Instead of answering, Kevin acted on instinct and tucked Aaron's head against his chest, wrapping his arms around him, holding him tight. Like it had earlier, all the tension left Aaron's body. He sagged against Kevin, his arms limp at his sides, his breath harsh. The tears burned their way up again, and this time, they fell.

"You know you're not supposed to overexert yourself. But—I know you're mad. And I know Neil is an insufferable asshole, and I know he is not always a good person. I told him that. That's what I was doing. Although... You shouldn't take it all out on him. I know your anger goes beyond that, beyond him. It's Katelyn, it's Andrew, it's your mother. And it's Riko, Seth, and the Moriyamas, too, right? If anything, for that, you should be mad at me," Kevin said quietly in the nonexistent space between them.

"I don't wanna be mad at you," Aaron's response came, muffled in Kevin's T-shirt. "I wanna be mad at Neil, and Andrew, and Riko."

"And Katelyn?" Kevin tried again.

"No—No, not Katelyn. I'm the one who broke up with her, you know?" Aaron whispered.

"...Yeah, I know."

Kevin started rubbing a hand up and down Aaron's back, creating a soothing rhythm for the both of them. Soon enough, the urge to clutch Aaron against him as close and tightly as he could overwhelmed him, and his fingers cramped. Stiffly, Kevin pushed Aaron away, but ruffled his hair nonetheless in an attempt to dissipate the queasy feeling in his chest. Aaron lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe tears and snot from his face and Kevin caught a glimpse of marred skin here and there, reminders of why Aaron was, and remained, a Fox. Kevin's glance was noticed, and Aaron's cheeks burned as he promptly lowered his shirt to hide the damage.

"Swimming," Kevin blurted out, trying to get his focus back and just short of shaking his head to clear his mind fog.

"I'm sorry, what?" Aaron replied, confused.

"Let's go swimming. Great exercise. Low risk. It's physics. It helped back when—My hand. It still helps. Get changed, get your trunks, pack up. Meet me outside," Kevin explained as if on autopilot, back to his authoritative and obsessive self. A brief moment of weakness he would be sure to squash and never repeat. He raised his brow at Aaron, waiting for his affirmative, his face all sharp angles and laser-focused eyes daring him to refuse.

"How many times did you read Abby's file on me?" Aaron chose to answer Kevin's unspoken question.

It was no use denying it, and Kevin couldn't care less about how it made him look. Only Exy would guide his actions. He would silence the rest.

"Enough to know it's time you get off your ass," Kevin answered, tough but without malice.

And Aaron didn't take it the wrong way either. He inhaled sharply. "I gave you my game," he agreed, looking everywhere but at Kevin.

Kevin waited him out, until Aaron had to look him in the eye.

"And it's time I collect what's mine."

(read on Ao3 here !)

I have a request. Maybe Hotch suffering anaphylaxis or food poisoning after a fourth of July picknick with the team and Morgan taking care of him.

Hey! I've written a lot of anaphylaxis and throwing up stories recently, so I decided to go in a little different direction with this one while still trying to honor the original request. Just to keep it a little fresh. It is pretty fluffy though, focusing more on Morgan taking care than the sick. I hope you like it! <3 If you feel slighted I'd be glad to write some real suffering.

Warnings: food poisoning, food, sickness (nothing too graphic though, strange I know)

Words: ~1800

**

“You really don't have to come,” Derek announced, not for the first time that afternoon. He was busy pulling on his swim trunks when Aaron walked out of the bathroom all messy hair and tired eyes, trying to make himself look like he belonged among the living. “You haven't slept in two days.”

“I'll be okay,” Aaron replied. Derek wouldn't argue again. He'd made his point and it was, not surprisingly, being ignored. “Jack wants to go.” That was just going to have to be good enough to get him through. He'd pulled himself together on less plenty of times.

The day before, he'd been in the bathroom throwing up. All day and all night, he hadn't even bothered to try and sleep in his bed it was so bad, just moved between the bathtub and the toilet. The worst Derek had ever seen, he was sure of it. Linda Blair, eat your heart out. Derek had stayed with him at first, he tried to hang, sitting there beside him trying to be of some comfort but he reached a certain point where he was no good anymore, he was falling asleep sitting up. Aaron insisted he go to bed, get some sleep, there was no reason both of them should be miserable at Dave's barbecue.

Derek didn't sleep anyway. After hours of listening to the way Aaron tried to go undetected, the way he kept the fan on to muffle the sounds of his sickness he got up to use the bathroom. The door was locked from the inside, frustrating, but Derek had known it before he tried the handle. He had to use the bathroom in the hallway to pee and was glad Jack was such a heavy sleeper. There was a key in the kitchen cabinet, right above the sink, just in case but he wasn't going to use it this time. Not so long as he could still hear Aaron in there. There were any number of tricks Aaron kept up his sleeve for these occasions, ways to mute himself, shrink until he disappeared – locked doors, ceiling fans, running water. By the time the shower was going, Derek had fallen asleep accepting that there wasn't anything he could do. It would just have to run its course.

Being in love with Aaron Hotchner was messy. Not for the faint of heart. Sometimes it felt like being the center of the universe and other times it was being alone, living with a ghost. The good times were so good, and the bad times were impossible and lonely. If he believed he was a burden, he would vanish, it was just that simple. Like a dying animal hiding beneath a porch, Aaron would hole himself up and expect you to pretend he never existed in the first place. Turn your feelings off, erase your memory. With outstretched arms Morgan would wait, assure him he wasn't a burden, that he wanted to care for him but his arms would remain empty.

The moment his arms were full, he knew the worst of it had passed. He held Aaron close to him, felt his muscles tremble beneath his grasp. The way tired didn't seem to cover even his normal days, this was a level he was unfamiliar with. Uncharted territory and yet the feeling of Aaron wrapped in his embrace felt like hope – he was there, right there, and he was not pushing Derek away.

“Fireworks,” Aaron whispered into Derek's neck. “Jack wants to see the fireworks.”

It was unlikely that he was going to make it to the fireworks. They both knew it, but he was going to try. Dave's house was busy, filled with the team and their families and loved ones, the air conditioner was on high, the drinks were flowing and the pool was open and inviting. Aaron tried. He wore a black t-shirt and black swim trunks, as if he planned to get into the water. Jack had insisted, just in case. Always practical, prepared for anything.

“Ey, Rossi! I didn't know you were friends with Gomez Addams!” Emily shouted, raising her beer high in a sort of cheers that Aaron didn't find amusing at all. Derek, however, gave up one of the best belly laughs he'd produced in weeks. She sauntered up slow, more than a few beers in and looked him up and down. “You look like roadkill.”

“I feel like it,” he muttered, declining the offer of a beer from JJ beside him. Emily's face fell dramatically and she looked at Derek who just shrugged in a way that said he'd tell her all about it later. The sun beat down on them and Aaron watched Jack drop all of his things near a table, kick out of his sandals and fly into the pool without a second thought. Henry was already spinning around in the deep end like a tornado, creating a whirlpool of epic proportions and Jack sputtered in the wake happily. Derek placed his hand gently at the small of Aaron's back and lead him toward some chairs that weren't taken yet. There was a bottle of sparkling water and a smile offered to him as Derek crouched in his line of sight, just making sure he was okay before he moved on and mingled.

“You good?”

“I'm good,” Aaron replied dryly. His stomach hurt enough that stretching out was painful, but once his muscles settled it took him almost no time at all to fall asleep in the direct sunlight. The way the warmth encircled him, made it hard to breathe with it's thick, humid blanket covering him. The sweat that beaded up on his forehead and trickled down, catching in the silvery hair at his temples, it all provided him the perfect conditions to sleep for the first time in days.

Everyone ate while Aaron slept, and though multiple people offered to make him a plate, Derek told them not to wake him. He wouldn't want to eat anyway, he said, over and over as he told and retold the epic tale of their last few days. In the pool he could hear Jack telling Will and Henry about his dad puking and Derek told his story with equal enthusiasm. He spared no detail. Aaron wasn't awake to protest, and after the days they'd had, Derek felt he was owed this much.

The sleep was deep but didn't last. Penelope was worried, covering him in cool wet towels, shocking him awake. She'd sprayed him down with Jack's sunscreen first, terrified he was going to get a sunburn. She'd gotten to him before Derek could stop her, and even after he noticed he just let it play out. Aaron grumbled and tried to pull himself back into the dream he'd been having but it was no use, his legs were cold and wet now and it felt too good to ignore. There was a sunburn in his future, at least for his shins and he got up and wandered toward the pool, seating himself in the corner at the shallow end away from the splashing children being tossed through the air by Derek and Will. He slipped his feet in, let them dangle for a moment to get used to the icy chill before letting go of the tension and kicking them back and forth beneath the minty green water.

“You don't look so hot,” Dave said, groaning as he sat beside Aaron. He handed Aaron a bottle of sparkling mineral water, knowing exactly what his drink of choice would be.

“Food poisoning,” Aaron replied, shrugging as he hazarded his first icy sip, testing out the way his stomach would react before taking more.

“The Lunchables you ate on the jet?”

“That's my best guess.”

“Just your luck, huh? Morgan and Emily ate four of those wrinkly old gas station hot dogs without a problem, Reid had that crusty corndog, you grab a package of pre-packaged kid food and get sick.”

Aaron hummed and nodded, having no desire to relive the memory of the slimy turkey and sweaty cheese on crackers. It hadn't tasted off, but he knew it when he finished them that something was wrong and was just grateful to make it home before it hit. Jack was worried at first, and then he'd started to record the sounds through the door so at least there was that. He'd made his son happy. Sean had always found his suffering to be amusing, too. Most of it, anyway.

He found his way into the water soon after. Not awake or well enough to swim, he just lounged by the wall and enjoyed the reprieve from the heat, still in his t-shirt now sopping wet and clinging to him. Derek made his way over, showered him with chlorine kisses and shook the water droplets off of his body like a dog all over Aaron who scrunched his nose and closed his eyes against the assault.

Jack thought it was hilarious. Henry begged Derek to do it again. Will made a show of protesting but it was weak at best, he wanted the show to continue as much as the boys did.

So, Derek dove beneath the water and leapt out, shaking himself off again.

And again. And again, until Aaron was soaked and smiling and threatening Derek's life. He wasn't feeling particularly energetic but he was just playful enough to splay his palms against the surface of the water and slap a stiff wall directly at Derek, slicing over him as he attempted to dive out of the way.

“Truce!” Derek called, wiping water from his eyes. Will and the boys laughed close by before resuming their own games at the other end of the pool. Derek swam to where Aaron stood and circled his waist beneath the water, pulling him into deeper water until they were just barely touching, chins dipping just below the surface.

"You were right," Derek said, pressing a soft kiss against Aaron's cold, wet lips. They were turning just the palest shades of pinks and blues. "You must be feeling better."

"Oh, no, I feel like I was scraped off of the bottom of a dumpster but I am having fun."

As the sun began to set, everyone vacated the pool and found places to set up on Dave's lawn, ready for the private firework show he'd set up with a friend who happened to be licensed for that sort of thing. No one bothered to question Dave's connections, they just accepted that he knew everyone – if you needed a guy, Dave had a guy. Or he could find one with relative ease.

Derek set up a lawn chair beside Jack, and though they drug a chair out for Aaron as well, he found himself more comfortable sitting with his wet clothes in the cool, freshly clipped grass. He slipped between Derek's legs, resting his cheek against Derek's knee while he shivered in his towel. Sitting where he was, he had a view of everything but Derek formed a protective barrier, helping him slip away and hide, keeping to himself. Smiling, he watched Jack and Henry toss the football with Will while the fireworks were set up and fought the overwhelming urge to fall asleep where he sat. Once or twice his eyes drifted shut, muscles relaxing into the soft grass beneath him as they waited patiently for the show.

The boom of the fireworks overhead, the shower of bright lights and dazzling spray of sparkles kept him awake. Around him was the sound of his team oohing and aahing happily, Dave and his friend loading up more explosives onto the makeshift stage they'd put together and across town they could hear the faint sounds of more explosions in the night sky. A crowd from Dave's neighborhood gathered at the outskirts of his lawn, eager to witness their own private show. Derek tangled his fingers mindlessly through Aaron's damp hair, pulling it into peaks and twists and though he knew he should have been sleeping the rest of his sickness off and he'd probably pay for it later, he was glad he'd come.

Not just for Jack.

Jimmy & Janis

Planning a romantic weekend away

Jimmy: Gracie came at me earlier. There was mistletoe up and I near fully hit the floor 😎 Jimmy: Hold fire though. She only wanted to tell me to convince you of summat. Pretty sure you already know what it is Janis: Erm...Father Christmas is really real? That her weave isn't from dead Brazilian hookers? Janis: Enlighten me or I'll tell her she's got a holiday free pass on you 😈 Jimmy: Double date. Need I say more 😡 Janis: FUCK. I DIDN'T THINK IT'D ACTUALLY HAPPEN. Janis: How far does she expect the season of goodwill to extend, like? Already got some poor cunt being a charitable home for her arse so she don't freeze Janis: Single tear. Janis: Question is, can we make it worth it enough for us to endure that shite? Hmm Jimmy: I almost got my arse to church so it wouldn't. Shoulda sucked off that priest when he asked. Too late? Jimmy: You better get me a top notch pressie, baby 😏 Janis: You know you ain't on the nice list 😉 Janis: So, Santa might be dissing but you'll be getting something extra special from me Janis: As for God, and his holly jolly perverted following, I reckon we're both shit out of 🍀 there, no matter how good our head game is, such is life Janis: Grah, I hear she does shoutouts now...want that 'influencer' clout, baby? Not double entendre my end but might be for GracieGuru 🙊😂 Jimmy: what the fuck we going to do then? No way I'm hanging with her and her latest 'boo boy' Jimmy: Even if I was getting paid, which is likely since she just loves common grounds Janis: Preaching to the choir, dickhead, ain't my idea of a good time either, or hers let's be fucking real. She just wants to dry-hump a slab of boy in front of you on the off chance that really gets you going for her Janis: You wouldn't call her brainy, bless Janis: Idk, don't worry about it, Jim. Just avoid her/the flat whites like the plague and I'll have to literally run away like I'm an angsty 12 year old so we can't be located, even with friend finder or whatever they stalk each other with Janis: Oooh! Just call me brains, we should pretend to have a romantic weekend away planned, that'll send her over the edge, that is her everything goals Janis: Like I said, I can hide from a hoe Jimmy: I knew there was a reason I kept you about Jimmy: Let's do it though. Easier to take than fake the 'gram Jimmy: Any ideas? 🤔 Jimmy: Most of my boltholes are far from yours and not very enviable for that crowd #it'sgrimupnorth Janis: Yeah, why do you tbh? Janis: Now its clear my sister has got no respect for anyone on her hunt for dick/self-esteem Janis: She's hoping its a twofer like Janis: I don't know if I can stand you for that long, darling Janis: But I SUPPOSE your the lesser of two evils here 😉 Jimmy: It's love 💕 Jimmy: Come on, it'll be a laff. I'll get the beers in Jimmy: You can try harder to beat me at darts and pool Janis: As far as the adoring fans/salty haterz are concerned Janis: and that's all that matters Janis: bitch i don't have to try! 😤 you put me off last time with ur mooning 😍 Janis: we don't need to convince the old fellas in the boozer Jimmy: Fuck off I was getting practice in! Jimmy: If you're ready to fake a break up say the word but until then, it takes a lot of work to give you the puppy dog eyes. I'm not Twix Janis: Sure you was 😂 Janis: N'awwh but you do it so well! Janis: Audition for the School play whilst ur at it, soft lad Jimmy: I do enough fake snogging without signing myself up for that bollocks Jimmy: You coming away with me then or not? Jimmy: You know your sister'll be in again nagging before shift's end Janis: Well, when you put it like that Janis: 😒 Janis: I ain't got nothing better to do, and I certainly ain't third wheeling her fake date Janis: My grandparents got a place down skerries Janis: we can crash there Jimmy: How many rooms they got? My dad's working so I'll have to bring the ramble with Jimmy: #goals I know Janis: Fucking hell, my pissing sister! She owes you more than she's spending on coffee for the hassle she's causing Janis: If you really can't, don't worry, I'll sort her. She'll be unbearable when she finds out it was all for a laugh but it was at her expense so how much of a mug can she actually make me feel? 😑 Janis: That said, there's 3 rooms, its only a caravan don't get excited but the kids would probably be buzzin', it is pretty nice down there Janis: I'll even let you have the double bed to yourself Janis: ol Janis: l Jimmy: It'll stop them nagging me about going somewhere other than the park that'll do me Jimmy: Cass talks big but she isn't even really so doable Jimmy: Don't be getting any ideas though 😍😉 my brother hasn't slept well since we moved. I'll be sharing that double like it or not Jimmy: What a way to spend my first proper time off since I started #blessed Janis: Yeah, fish and chips on the beach even tho its fucking baltic, chasing Twix will keep 'em warm, you'll earn major big brother points as well as bae ones Janis: What a mighty fine man Janis: Same here, Cass. Shh about it though Janis: Like you said, it'll be a laugh, we can make it one Janis: You'd really rather be making pinkity drinkidies or whatever the fuck they are? Jimmy: Nope. But your 1st romantic break usually is. Any talent there is in all grans playing bingo? Jimmy: Be nice to get something off the 'gram 💋 Janis: I ain't been since I was about 9 Janis: I wasn't after bitches then and I ain't now Janis: I wish you luck, 2 kids hanging on your arm and a woman back home, like Janis: Does it for some. Jimmy: I'd do some talking first to get things clear I'm not tall Tammy 😂 Jimmy: Bet you were a right cute kid, weren't you? Aww Janis: Again, have fun explaining that one, mate. I'd struggle with the concept and I'm in on it. Janis: Adorable. What happened? Jimmy: Shut up you know what you look like, mate Janis: A butch lezza? Janis: So I've been told 👍 Jimmy: That's not what they are saying anymore. Check my comments sometime. The lads are gagging for you now Janis: Goody gumdrops. Janis: I'll leave my knickers at the door, like Jimmy: You could like. I've been waiting for you to drop me as your fake bf since this whole thing started Janis: I'm not interested in any of them. Janis: Would your world be set alight by Aaron O'Reilly from form? Janis: If you wanna cop off with some of your fans don't let me stop you Jimmy: You aren't. They're not my type anymore than Aaron's yours. I'm just saying you take a crackin pic and I should know since I'm the one takin 'em. So you don't need to spout that crap. They're just jealous of how much of a butch lezza you aren't Janis: Alright. Well, you're not half bad at taking snaps, and not in the bullshit way every hoe thinks they know their angles and magic lighting these days, you're actually decent. Janis: It don't feel like crap when Janis: blah, meant to delete that, ignore it Jimmy: 🤐 Jimmy: Wanna help me with my art project while we're away then? Kill all the birds (hopefully not with my flash) Jimmy: I'll owe you again Janis: I won't even joke on you for being a swot 🤓🤞 Janis: What've you got planned? Jimmy: I haven't had any time to think yet beyond film being the medium but Jimmy: #workinprogress Jimmy: with a muse like you m'dear how could I go wrong 💕 Janis: 😜 Janis: just so you know, i ain't bringing any homework but put my name or yours, yeah? 😘 not even in art but might count for something Janis: clue me in tho, brainiac, what do the kiddos like? i'll get 'em something Jimmy: Rookie mistake mate, art's an easy A Jimmy: They'll take anything covered in sugar. Can't say I'll love you for it when they crash mid journey though Janis: Only 'cos you're good at it. With my genes I should be but I can barely draw a stickman. Janis: I'll stick with double sports, sports science and science 👌 Janis: I'll keep sweets in stock for bribery, goes without sayin'! Different pocket to Twix' fish treats, though Janis: I'll have a look down town Jimmy: 😂 did you see that article doin the rounds about the mum who bought her kid a cat's advent calendar Janis: 😂 Yes! Shame catnip don't work like on us like it does cats, that kid would be pingin' Janis: Might get meself some, like Jimmy: What gets dogs off their heads? I'll keep Twix well clear Jimmy: She's high enough on your 😍 Janis: I don't know, actually...telling them they're good bois? Janis: Works for you boo 😘 Jimmy: I prefer being called a very bad boy 😎 Janis: You clown 😂 Janis: Good to know, suppose. Dirty weekend away though it ain't Jimmy: what our fans don't know won't break their jealous hearts Jimmy: you coming in for your freebies today or shall I do a delivery your way once Grace is home? 😉 Janis: Kick it really cliche and be my sexy delivery boy Janis: Try and bring something with sausage in so I can come at you with the quality porn writing Jimmy: Live your fantasies as well as your sister's if you want, my name tag says Jonathon today Janis: Ooh, spicing it up with some roleplay like we're middle-aged okay Janis: How boring are you that you've picked a name so similar to your own...this is why we've hit a dry patch, Jimothy! Jimmy: What would you seriously pick? Janis: For you? Janis: Who's a fittie... Janis: Anthony Joshua could get it Janis: You don't want to be in the play but reckon you can stretch to that? Jimmy: Next time I lose my name tag I'll insist on that. For the bae 💕 Jimmy: About as close as I'll get I think Janis: Who do you want? Janis: I wanna know your type Janis: Bar Tall Tammy Jimmy: Your sister obviously Janis: Fuck off, not even funny Janis: If that were true, you know where she lives bitch, I ain't stopping ya, she's practically shoe-horning you in 🤢 Jimmy: I meant the fit older one 😉 Janis: Ohhh Janis: Still, do one 🖕 I'm not pretending to be my sister you freak Jimmy: That's one pretense too far. Got it 😂 Janis: Yeah, in this hypothetical you've really shit the bed, pal. Jimmy: I only half read that because #customers and thought you called me shit in bed mate Janis: well... 😏 Jimmy: I fake rocked your world Janis Cavante! 😂 Janis: you know we faked it so i didn't have to fake it 💅 Jimmy: Aaron O'Reilly's walking through the door want me to slip him your number and end this? 😝 Janis: I will murder you. Janis: also he might think your trying to set up a threeway for YOUR benefit, so if you wanna take over the gay rumours that bad, go for it 💋🍆 Jimmy: I've seen you with a pool cue I think I'm safe Jimmy: Give a shit. At least I actually am butch Janis: Psh, you're all show no grow Janis: We're arm wrestling, then you'll see Jimmy: 💪 I'll beat you at that too then, shall I? 🏆 Janis: Bring it on. I won't make you cry too hard, save face in front of the kiddos. Janis: 'Let' them kick your arse too 😜 Jimmy: Try it, baby girl 😝 Jimmy: Cass probs could no lie. Scrappy af that one Janis: Good girl 👍 Janis: Gotta keep you in check Jimmy: Doubt you'll be calling her that when she's shadowed you all weekend Jimmy: She loves you. Who knows why? Janis: I keep telling you I'm a delight Janis: Has this...how long has it been? Month, 2? Of SHEER BLISS taught you nothing Janis: Ruuuuude. Jimmy: Nope. I'm with Team Bobby. You're a gross meanie Jimmy: As all girls are 😂 Janis: Well I'm winning Bobby 'round this weekend by hook or by crook Janis: then you can please yourself, billy no mates Janis: Team Janis 💪 Jimmy: Every bro knows you can't be friends with your girl Jimmy: DUH Janis: Oh yeah, all straight couples HATE each other and that's #goals Janis: If I can't be chatting shit on you, how will I get to talk about you constantly to my gals? Janis: Singing your praises? I THINK NOT Jimmy: Speaking of, Gracie and co are back on the premise that Tall Tammy left her....something. I wasn't listening. Should I break the news we won't be here for date night or do you want to do the honors Janis: Dignity? That's long gone, honey. Janis: Ooh, lemme do it, you're coming round with the sausage anyway Janis: We can do it together baby Jimmy: awhhh Jimmy: I've hidden the mistletoe but she can see the top of the highest counters!! I'm on borrowed time what do I do? Janis: Headbutt her in the teeth Janis: 'Accidentally' Janis: Can't help being a normal-sized human Jimmy: #customerservice Jimmy: then recommend her our chewy cookies 😂 Janis: You can see why I'm not trying to be your work wifey too, yeah? 😂 Janis: If you can convince any of those girls to break their diet, I'll be impressed Janis: Don't count if they go vom in the bogs after tho Jimmy: Gracie might be on her way already. One of her posse asked what you were getting me for Christmas and I didn't hold back Janis: Oh no, am I about to get slut-shamed? 😲 Janis: Or, heaven forfend, tips Janis: I will die Jimmy: Damn I didn't think of that. Sorry Janis: Its cool Janis: She's all mouth anyway, not in a beneficial to the cause way Janis: Be interesting hearing what she thinks you want, keep ya posted lol Jimmy: 🙌 Can't wait Janis: that's what you're meant to say about my present! Jimmy: I did, swear 🤞 Janis: what do you actually want Jimmy: Don't worry about it Janis: Oh, is it? If I'm not fucking your brains out you're not interested Janis: Fine then, save my reddies. 👍 Jimmy: That's what I was thinking. Stage a break up before 🎄 for max drama and min spends Janis: Cool. If you wanna. Janis: Just don't tell everyone you chucked me 'cos I wouldn't give it up. Already a frigit. Janis: What's the story then? Jimmy: Obviously not. We've been hooking up for ages got to keep it #goals Jimmy: I don't know haven't thought that far ahead it just makes sense to get out before gifting Janis: Yeah. Fair. Janis: Think on and let me know Jimmy: You too. We can brainstorm at the weekend. Nothing but time then Jimmy: Can't break up right after the break though Janis: Would look sus, yeah. Janis: Maybe I'll whup you one too many times, your fragile male ego can't hack it, eh? Jimmy: Grace'd be smug 😩 Jimmy: Can't even fake that, babe Jimmy: Nobody'd believe the story Janis: She's gonna be regardless Janis: I got the shitty end of the stick here like but ain't nowt we can do about it now Janis: 🙄 Jimmy: No we're goals we just burned too bright that's all 😂 Jimmy: You've got way more time served with me than she does any of her boos she doesn't win Janis: Mhmm. Calm down, Icarus. Sure you'll be comparing some other bint on a balcony to the sun in no time. 😘 Janis: Suppose so. Least hers are real, if not short-lived, and, well, shit. Janis: She won't know the difference anyway Jimmy: There's nobody like you 💕 Jimmy: Exactly I'm not going to tell her we weren't real Janis: Bullshit 💕 Janis: True enough, I'll take it. Jimmy: Shit gotta go the boss is back Jimmy: Love you 💕 Janis: Love you too, Jonathon 💕

hey lovely! <3 can i request a little something for aaron hotchner? maybe something where he’s being jealous/protective? i adore the way you write him! :)

this is like a very mini fic it's all over the place ♡ thank you for your request!! fem!reader cw weird guy tries to kiss you

You're in New Jersey of all places trying to find a serial killer, and in your opinion, Hotch is being entirely unprofessional. 

You're also really enjoying it, but that's not the point. 

There's a police officer that isn't flirting with you, really, more like he's a touchy guy in general. You're working as the conduit between the team and the police force, and so every time you tell this touchy guy something, it's an opportunity for him to say thank you.

This guy says thank you with a quick shoulder touch. 

You feel guilty, admittedly. While Hotch isn't quite your boyfriend, he isn't not your boyfriend — you're working it out. Or rather, he's working it out. You'd walk into the middle of the road if he asked you to, but Hotch has hang ups about interwork relationships. He's hesitant because he worries about the inherent power imbalance between you. 

It's fine though. You're hoping he'll come around eventually. And eventually might come sooner rather than later, with the way he's glaring holes in this guy's head. 

"Is he making you uncomfortable?" Hotch asks you. 

The door closes behind your guilty police officer. You'd prefer it if the police officer didn't touch you at all, but he isn't necessarily making you uncomfortable.

"It's alright," you placate, feeling the eyes of both Spencer and Rossi on you like laser beams. 

Hotch nods and goes back to work. A small tell, and huge in the eyes of profilers. 

You get further into the case and forget about the guy's touches, but you don't think Hotch can. He sits next to you at every opportunity, and insists you ride shotgun on the way back to the hotel. You have separate rooms, wouldn't dream of ever sharing one with him, so it shocks you like lightning when he invites you in for 'coffee'. 

You sit on the end of his bed. 

"Are you mad at me?" you ask, a moment of weakness. 

He's very tense. Less so at your question, he pulls his weight off of the closed door and sits beside you on the bed. "Of course not." Then, because he's too smart and too himself to avoid the issue, "I'm sorry if I'm being forward." 

"I like you, Hotch. You know I do," you say. In lieu of, Be forward, please. You don't speak with any particular inflection. It's the stone cold truth, and you aren't mad at him for anything. Not his hesitancy to be with you, or his jealousy. 

"You don't think it's arrogant?" he asks. 

"I think it's kind of nice. It's reassuring," you amend softly, "to know you want me to yourself." 

That sounded better in your head. Thankfully, all Hotch does is nod. "I do." 

"Okay, good. You can keep glaring at Officer Paulson, then." 

He smiles at you, half defeat, half fondness. "His name is Poulton." 

"Is it?" 

His smile doubles. He places his hand across the sheets, palm up. You place your hand in his. 

"You really need to get it together," you joke lightly. 

"I know," he says. 

The next day, you're back in the conference room of the Cherry Hill police department, hand pretty much on fire still from his touch where its resting on the desk as you jot down notes. Each time you remember how he'd held it, you'd fingers curl in on themselves, looking for Hotch's hand and not finding it. 

You write down notes, not to be selfish, but because it really helps you connect the dots. You're not like Spencer, you can't store an infinite amount of knowledge up in your brain. You need space and time to work it out. 

A cup of coffee appears to your right. A hand presses flat to the space between your shoulder blades. You beam at the tiny thumb movements and turn in your seat. "Oh… my god. Officer Pauls-ton." You laugh awkwardly, shrugging out from under his hand. "I thought you were someone else." 

"I noticed you in here all by yourself and figured you could use some company." 

Even if you'd been alone, and you had wanted company, and this was a dimension where Hotch didn't exist, Poulton's hand absolutely should not have been where it was. Now you're uncomfortable. 

"Oh, no, that's alright. I'm just trying to make some connections here while everyone's out." 

What a terrible thing to admit. You can practically see the excitement on his face. 

"Yeah? They always leave the pretty one behind?" 

You laugh without meaning to. Usually, Spencer is the one running point, so he's technically right. "You could say that." 

"This all seems pretty boring."

You lean away as he leans forward. You're surprised — you've never been cornered like this, whether he means to do it or not. 

"It's my job," you explain. 

"Now why would a girl like you do something so gruesome?" 

"Uh-" You laugh clumsily, wondering how the fuck you're gonna get out of this situation. You start by standing up and turning to him completely, the backs of your thighs pressed against the desk you'd been working on hard enough to ache. "A girl like me? I love the work we do." 

"You don't find it boring?" 

"Sometimes, but-" 

"I can think of a few ways to liven it up in here." 

This is the kind of thing your girlfriend's have told you about, over-imposing creeps who use a facade of niceness to get close. Officer Poulton has known you for all of three days, and while you've been friendly, you've never given any indication that you want to be seduced in a public work space.

"No, I don't think so." 

"Come on, baby." 

He steps toward you, hands moving to take your waist. You side step around him, eyes on the door, and he follows. 

His fingers close around your wrist, and he says, "Where are you going?" 

You yank your hand away and glare at him, other hand behind you and opening the door. You close it between you. You want to call someone. One of your friends, your team. Your heart races. 

You can't tell if you were in danger or not. 

You make your way through the bullpen to the women's restroom and hide in one of the stalls, typing a quick text to Garcia, who's most likely to respond. 

Weirdo just tried to kiss me at CH PD. Hiding in the bathroom. Swear some guys see a polite smile and take it as enthusiasm. :[ 

You don't want her to panic, so you add, It's fine, though. How are things back home?

You spend a little time in there, as much as you can allow, hoping desperately that Officer Poulton has left the conference room so you can get back to work in peace. 

he did wt? R u ok??? wts his address?

The bathroom smells like bleach, and the toilet tank behind you drips. It's cold, and you feel an odd mixture of embarrassed and ashamed, though you don't have any reason to feel either. 

I must have said something to him, you think scornfully. Something that made him think- 

You shake your head. That guy's just an oddball. He saw signals where there weren't any. You didn't do anything wrong. 

After some mild internal debate you stand up to face the music. You're barely a step outside of the bathroom when you're bumping into Emily, who's expression floods with relief. 

"What happened?" she asks urgently. 

"What?" 

"Garcia said some guy came onto you? Officer Touchy?" Her eyes are sympathetic, her lips pinched into a friendly, pitying pout. 

You gawp. "She told you?" 

"What did he do?" 

"Nothing awful, he just- he put hid hand behind my back and I- he was leaning over me so I tried to leave and he grabbed my wrist. It wasn't anything more than that." 

"He grabbed you?" she asks. 

You look up to find Hotch a few paces behind. His expression is unreadable. His tone, less so. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, all the airs of someone taking pre-measures.

"I'm perfect. He barely touched me. I only told Penelope because I-" Why did you tell Penelope? "I don't know. He surprised me." 

"I'm going to speak to the Chief of police," he says. "If you'll be alright?" 

"I'm fine, there's really no need."

"It's disrespectful," Emily says, fiercely protective over her friends no matter what. "We're here to help them and you've got officers acting like frat boys." 

Hotch says your name, pulling both of your attentions. "You're sure you're okay?" 

You smile at him softly. It's good of him to be so concerned, but unnecessary. "I'm fine, I promise." 

He takes your word for it and turns around. Emily lets out a low whistle. 

"Someone's in for it," she says. 

You don't know how right she is until you hear his raised voice. Chills run down your spine at his tone, so formidable, so sternly contained.

"Touch my agent again and you'll be working desk jockey for the rest of your career. Do I make myself clear?" 

You can't hear it, but you imagine the answer is, "Clear."

That night, laid like two twin commas invested toward one another, you ask, "'My agent'?" 

"You're one of mine, aren't you?" Hotch asks quietly.

"But am I yours?" you ask. 

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, the bulk and curve of his bicep firm against your neck, and smiles, lips resting at the crown of your head. 

"Do you want to be?" he asks. 

You curl into his touch and embrace, warmed by his body heat and the blanket he's taken care to pull up to your chest. He smells like toothpaste and eucalyptus body wash, his hair still damp from the shower. You breathe him in indulgently, and you close your eyes to sleep without responding to his question. He already knows the answer. 

take cover

when intense weather keeps you awake, all you need is aaron. takes place in 7x7: there's no place like home

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, episode references, storm anxiety, comfort

your whole life, you've never experienced wind as grueling as this.

it was roaring; consistently slamming against the hotel, accompanied with pelting sheets of rain and the occasional crash of thunder. your room and everything within it shook with each blow, and it felt as if it would only take one more insane gust for the entire building to collapse. even the turbulence on the way to wichita was calm in comparison.

the only other sound present was the television in front of you, displaying the local weather channel. miraculously the hotel somehow still had power, and there was only a tornado watch rather than a warning. that should've calmed your nerves and helped you fall asleep, but it didn't.

you had never feared storms in the past, but this was your first time experiencing the wrath known as tornado alley. in addition, it didn't help that just earlier that day you had been walking through tornado debris to locate a victim's dismembered limbs. you couldn't quite shake the visual either; it was all too easy to imagine the hotel being pulverized to nothing just the same.

the worst of your current situation- aaron wasn't next to you for once. his absent comfort allowed your nerves to do nothing but heighten to the brink.

for the sake of maintaining professionalism, the two of you didn't typically share a room on cases, the only exception being if the whole of you had to double up due to minimal rooms available.

but, desperate times called for desperate measures.

a particularly harsh bout of wind sent you scrambling out from underneath your comforter, hurrying out of your room and rapping your knuckle frantically on aaron's door once you had reached it. hopefully the wind wouldn't drown out your knocking, that was the last thing you needed.

and it didn't, for it only took a moment for the door to open and reveal aaron, who's expression developed into concern as he took notice of your current, panicked state. he also didn't seem surprised at your sudden presence either, as if he had known it would only be a matter of time before you came running into his arms.

another boom of thunder caused you to visibly flinch, your heart thumping wildly against your chest. "can i sleep with you?"

"by all means." he nodded, gesturing for you to enter and shutting the door behind you.

aaron's room presented a much more inviting demeanor compared to yours. yours embraced the darkness as you attempted to sleep, while his was still warmly lit, the bedside lamp all to thank. a file was thrown hastily on his duvet.

"you weren't sleeping?"

"i couldn't." he shook his head, returning to his place in bed as you followed closely, glued to his side. once the paperwork was moved aside, you were practically on top of him- curled into his chest, a leg thrown over his waist.

"god it's so loud." you squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face into his tshirt. "it feels like it'll never end."

"i know." aaron's hand moved up and down your back, allowing you to finally soak in the comfort you had been craving all night. "but i got you right here." he mumbled.

you hummed softly in response, recoiling as the building shook. at your reaction, aaron's hold on you only tightened. the pressure he supplied allowed your heart rate to drop, and you found yourself matching his even breaths to further settle yourself.

"it'll stop soon." a kiss on the top of your head followed his words.

"or not." you muttered, unenthusiastically.

"it will." he insisted assuringly. he fell quiet for a moment, your fingers clutching onto his shirt. "want me to wake morgan? i'll steal his headphones for you."

his words arose an immediate laugh to escape you, and you didn't need to open your eyes to know he was smiling. "yeah, i'm sure he'll really appreciate being awoken by none other than you."

"well, i am his favorite person, after all."

you hmph'ed at his words, "you keep telling yourself that, honey."

he chuckled softly in response, granting your head with a few more kisses.

"can you tell me something?" you peeked up at him.

"such as?"

"anything." you dropped your head back onto his chest. "i just want to hear your voice, to focus on you instead of what's brewing outside."

"okay." his deep brown eyes looked down at you lovingly, his fingertips drawing shapes on your back. "how about..."

you eventually fell into an uneasy sleep as aaron recalled the time he chaperoned jack's class on a field trip to the museum, describing the different exhibits, the ones jack was particularly fond of, and how the three of you should take a trip your next free weekend.

the faltering wind kept your mind awake- at the ready if the tornado sirens were to finally blare. but, in aaron's arms, you never felt more safe.

Like Falling Sand

Chapter 3: As Cold As Life

Notes: How about a little excitement? Our boys are getting themselves into some trouble in Seattle while undercover, but what's new? Undercover missions rarely turn out well for either of them. It does lead our boys to getting pretty...close...though. And isn't that the whole point of this web I'm weaving?

Warnings: Near drowning, kinda vomit, a little blood, a lot of swearing

Words: 3611

Previously On: Chapter List

Tag List: @disgruntledchowchow, @84hotpockets (msg/reply to be added)

“Explain this to me one more time,” Derek demanded, holding his shirt up for Rossi to finish taping his microphone to his torso. The tape was cold and the wires tickled. “Why in the Hell isn't Reid going out there?”

“I can't swim,” Spencer replied, shrugging. Derek glared at him and looked around for someone, anyone to call him on the lie. He'd seen Spencer in that swimming pool with the hot little actress, he knew it was a complete lie, he just didn't want to go out on the boat. No one said a word, no one was confident enough to say whether they knew if he could swim or not but he had all the look of someone who wouldn't do well in the water regardless. Derek rolled his eyes.

“What if I said I couldn't swim?” he asked, turning his pleading toward Aaron who just smiled at him in that infuriatingly calm way he had about him.

“I'd call you a liar,” Aaron replied, lips twitching up at the corners. “I've seen you compete.”

“I hate open water,” finally, Derek was just out with it. The water was dark and it was cold and there were creatures you couldn't see all over the place – open water was terrifying. A pool? Cool, he was into it. Would swim for hours. Lakes? Rivers? The fucking terrifying ocean? He would rather eat a worm, he'd told his cousin Cindy that very thing when they were children at the beach in South Carolina for a family vacation. She tried to feed him a worm and if Sarah hadn't stepped in and put a stop to it, he would have eaten it he hated the idea of being in the ocean that much.

“With any luck, we won't have to do any swimming,” Aaron patted Derek on the shoulder before heading over to where he would be leaving Dave and Spencer and Penelope in charge of operations from the shore. Their base was tucked neatly behind the statue outside of the Seattle Aquarium, a small tent filled with sensitive equipment shrouded by a giant red pacific octopus and bull kelp made of beautifully twisted and painted metal. He'd always wanted to bring Jack out this way but it never seemed to work out – too many serial killers in Washington and not nearly enough vacation time. Standing for a minute, Derek took in his surroundings and was glad to at least not be going at it alone. He knew that if there was a situation that called for putting your life on the line, Aaron would always be there one step ahead of him, never watching from the sidelines. And in this particular case, he would also have Emily and JJ on board – the four of them could handle whatever their unsubs had to throw at them.

It was a party boat, at least there was that. Aaron had already allowed them to each have one drink in the interest of blending in, a fact that made Derek glad and also nervous. He'd been roofied during undercover work before, was in no rush to repeat that experience and he was worried about something happening to Emily and JJ at the bar. Insistent on getting their drinks, he was shot down, they weren't supposed to be there together, he would be permitted to get Aaron his drink because that was his date but that was it. That didn't sit well with him.

The boat loomed on the horizon as the sun sank over the Sound, music pumped through the speakers and people began piling into the line ready to dance the night away. Derek and Aaron hung back, keeping an eye on Penelope and her Save the Orcas tent hiding all of her equipment and teammates in back. She handed out pamphlets and smiles, made small talk with everyone she met, gave pins to kids heading into the Aquarium. They couldn't have picked anyone better to play the part, she looked so at home out there talking to people about Orca pods in the Puget Sound. Around them milled police and FBI Agents in plain clothes, some ready to join the BAU on the boat, others waiting on dry land. Aaron tried to relax, knew that if anyone was going to give themselves away it was going to be him and his frown, his stiff shoulders and clenched fists. Derek slipped his arm around Aaron's waist almost as if on cue, sliding easily into his role like a second skin. They'd done this before countless times all over the country – the clothing and aliases changed, but it always felt the same. The last time Aaron had felt himself pulled down too far, almost believing it when Derek looked into his eyes and held him close, it had thrown him for a loop so badly that he found it hard to look at Derek or Haley for almost an entire week while he got a grip on himself. Method acting was what he chalked it up to because if that wasn't it, then he was in deep trouble.

“Relax, big guy,” Derek cooed, leading the way up the ramp and onto the boat. Deep green water sloshed against the dock beneath them, lapping at the wood hungrily with the force of the heavy boat on the waves. He tried not to look down into the murky depths but it was hard not to let his eyes be drawn by the floating tangles of seaweed and fishing line. At the Aquarium he could hear the excited crowds of people gushing over a mass of jellyfish visible from where they stood, right out in the water, lion's mane jellies and moon jellies by the hundreds. Aaron smiled at Derek and squeezed him back, reassuring him that the intention was not to end up in any of that water. It was to catch their unsub and get back to land without incident.

As soon as the sun sunk behind the evergreens and the guests were on board, a horn blew and the boat embarked on its slow crawl through the shimmering sea water. The illuminated Seattle skyline grew faint as they drifted, clouds covering the stars above, obscuring the milky light of the moon on the water. They stood and watched the sky scrapers light up one by one along the board walk, Ferris wheel glittering and spinning, the Space Needle lit up in neon greens and blues signifying a Seahawks victory at the stadium nearby. On board people were dancing to Pet Shop Boys and Janet Jackson, the smell of sweat and sickly sweet alcohol mingling with the briny sea air. Across the way, dancing in a sea of people were Emily and JJ, all hands and smiles, and to Aaron it looked like they fell into their roles even easier than he and Derek did. He didn't care to read too far into what that said about his team in general, instead he was simply proud of each of them and the way they stepped up. It wasn't often they got to go undercover and they usually tried to enjoy it as best they could, especially in scenarios like this. He could hear Dave's voice in his ear, telling him when to turn, when Penelope had run her facial recognition software on everyone in sight until finally landing on someone that they thought looked promising.

“That guy there in the green,” Dave said, “he's been watching Morgan for about ten minutes now. Move closer.” Aaron pulled Derek toward the bar and felt the boat lurch beneath his feet. His head swam and his ears popped at the sudden change. His knees almost gave out and he grabbed for Derek's shoulders to steady himself.

“You okay?” Derek asked, watching curiously as Aaron pressed his hand to his ear and nodded. Always okay, never really okay, burdened with the fate of the team resting on his weary shoulders.

“Sorry,” he muttered, holding tight to Derek with his other arm waiting for the world to stop spinning so violently. The vertigo had been terrible as his ears healed, taking over swiftly where the pain had left off. Some days he had no trouble at all, others felt like he was walking on legs made of jello through a traveling carnival fun-house. Derek glanced around and steadied Aaron against his chest, letting the other man press his face into the soft curve of his neck. “Just need a minute.” He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow, allowing his body to sway with the boat instead of fighting it. The pulsing, throbbing music wasn't helping his nausea. Gathering his wits was no easy task, the only comfort knowing that he was supposed to be drinking Derek in, he was supposed to be here.

“No worries,” Derek replied, signaling to the bar tender that they needed a couple of drinks. Aaron took his but couldn't put it to his lips, knew it would come right back up as fast as it had gone down.

“I think I need some fresh air,” he muttered, breaking free of Derek's grip with a little more force than he'd intended. “Watch the guy in the green.” Derek glanced at the man Aaron had indicated before watching his friend leave the dance floor, shuffling quickly toward the exterior deck. He turned away quickly, knowing that watching too long would mean seeing his friend get sick over the edge.

The music was loud enough that he didn't hear it.

“Where's Hotch?” Emily asked a few minutes later, sidling up next to Derek. Her hips swayed to the music, dark hair catching the lights and the breeze until it was almost iridescent. She was almost as terrifying as the sea itself.

“He needed some air,” was Derek's reply, glancing back toward the spot on deck he'd last seen Aaron. “And JJ?”

“Bathroom,” Emily said. They stood and chatted for a minute, keeping an eye on the man in the green shirt who hadn't moved from his perch at the bar. Dave was certain that was their guy but they knew he had help and they hadn't seen him talk with anyone yet. Content just to sit and nurse his beer. They needed more time.

When JJ and Aaron failed to return, they started to get antsy. Splitting up was never advisable but it was a big boat and they had plenty of backup on board, it was the only thing they could think to do. Emily rushed through the main deck toward the stairs while Derek split and ran in the direction Aaron had gone, both came up empty handed.

“Rossi,” Derek said into his comm, spinning himself in a circle, eyes scanning the crowd desperately. How did he manage to lose Aaron every single time they went out like this? “You heard from Hotch? I can't find him.” He heard a crackle as Dave's voice broke through but he couldn't make out the words before he felt something heavy connect with the side of his head. A split second, a flash of light, Pet Shop Boys singing Absolutely Fabulous, blood in his eyelashes and he fell to the ground in a heap. The man in the green shirt dragged him into the stairwell and shoved him into the corner beside a janitor's closet before making his way to the roof to meet his friends.

“FBI!” Emily shouted, coming up behind the three unsubs. The young man holding JJ's arms let her go, threw his hands in the air and allowed JJ enough time to grab her weapon. The other two stayed where they were, one large man holding Aaron's barely conscious form next to the railing.

“One more step and your poor sick friend's gonna get up close and personal with the fish,” the man in the green shirt said, slowly turning to face Emily. JJ trained her weapon on him, Emily on the man holding Aaron. It happened in a flash, one of the plainclothes Agents burst up to the roof and shouted, startling the man holding Aaron into taking a bumbling step backward, sending both of them over the railing. Emily fired a shot before they were out of sight, hitting the man beside Aaron before they both splashed into the water.

A gasp, a shock of ice burst through him, his skin felt like it was on fire the moment he hit. He felt water rush into his lungs and he sputtered, coughing, thrashing his too heavy limbs around trying to claw his way back to the night air. Something wrapped around his wrist, stinging, burning and he felt himself sinking into the icy black water, barely able to make out the dancing pinks and yellows and blues of the lights on the surface. There was panic amid the dizzy swirling feeling, his ears popped and burst painfully with every motion, every new depth until the pressure was too much and he closed his eyes.

Derek heard the splash as he came to, knew exactly what it was deep in his gut and let loose a string of words that would make a sailor blush. “The goal isn't to end up in the water he said...don't worry Morgan, you won't have to go swimming he said...” He pressed his hand to the gash on his forehead, felt the sticky blood against his palm and groaned.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuuuuuuck.” Scrambling to his feet, stumbling toward the railing he saw two men getting into diving gear and he followed them into the water without a second thought. Stifling a gasp, knowing it would do more harm than good, he stilled himself and floated for a moment while his body got used to the temperature. His heart thundered in his chest, beat at his ribs painfully and he shook the water out of his eyes. He heard the divers beside him hollering at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” one asked, swimming up beside him and adjusting his headlamp.

“That's my boss down there!” Derek called back and both divers shouted at him to avoid the jellyfish if he could, watch out for sharks and fishing line with hooks, the water in these areas was thick with things to get tangled up in. Sharks. Jellyfish. Fucking Aaron Hotchner. He couldn't think of many people on this planet that he'd jump into this water for, wasn't even sure Aaron was one of those people until that very moment. He swore a few more times and dove where the other two men pointed him. Kicking below the surface, pushing his way through a forest of kelp he felt the sting of tentacles on his bicep. Fucking Aaron Hotchner. Fucking jellyfish. Come at me, Salmon Sharks, I dare you.

Just about ready to head back to the surface for air, he spotted Aaron's lifeless form in a tangle of kelp and illuminated moon jellies. Like a scene out of a movie, he could scarcely believe his burning eyes. In one swift motion he kicked, propelled himself just far enough forward and wrapped his arm around Aaron's torso, pushing up toward the surface. The rescue divers surrounded them, kicked faster until they breached and Derek forced huge gulps of air into his burning, exhausted lungs. Aaron hung limp in his arms.

“Hold onto him tight!” one diver shouted, catching a rope tossed from the side of the boat and looping it around Derek and Aaron before signaling for them to be pulled to where a huge platform rested just below the surface. He let himself be pulled to the metal and held onto Aaron tight while it screamed to life, hoisting them up the side of the boat slowly. Water poured from the sides, and he let out a few choking coughs while they rose, tasted the blood running down the side of his face. Hands grasped his shoulders, pulled he and Aaron from the lift and onto the deck of the boat surrounded by shocked faces and people taking photos with their cell phones. He felt the boat lurch, making its way back to the pier while hands pried at his clothes and pulled Aaron off of him, preparing him for CPR. Derek scrambled away from the medics, watching desperately while they cut Aaron's shirt and pants off of him and lay him flat, ready to begin chest compressions.

Fucking Aaron Hotcher you better not die, he thought, crawling toward his friend. Blood splashed from his soaking wet wound to the floor and just as he opened his mouth to yell at the other man he watched as Aaron coughed, gagged and was sick with foamy sea water all over the deck. The medics rolled him onto his side, patted his back and encouraged him to continue coughing up the mess he'd inhaled.

“Get off me, I'm fine,” Derek grunted but the medics pinned him, pressed towels to his forehead to stop the bleeding and forced him back away from Aaron, giving them room to help him. They let him stay close enough to see while they cleaned and pressed his wound closed, sealing it with butterfly bandages and gauze before wrapping him in a wool blanket. The boat slowed, started turning around to back into its spot at the pier and Derek climbed over to where they were sitting Aaron up and wrapping him in his own thick blanket.

“You said no water,” Derek grunted, pulling Aaron into his chest, wrapping himself around his shivering friend. “You lied.”

“S-s-s-orry,” Aaron stammered, teeth chattering. He let himself be held, he was so cold his blood felt thick like syrup in his veins. Stifling small coughs, pressing the blanket to his lips and nose to warm them up, he felt awful. Sick to his stomach, the world still spun around him, a dip in the Sound hadn't done anything to stop the vertigo and now the pain was back. “You don't have to...”

“Oh shut up,” Derek snapped. Aaron's chest felt tight but he was able to breathe better by the minute as he warmed up, focusing on Derek's rhythmic heartbeat. He coughed water into his trembling hands and tried to force himself to get his shit together – this was his crime scene and if he heard his name in reference to being a victim one more time he might lose it. He struggled to get away, to stand up and take charge of his scene but Morgan held him tighter. “Just...stay with me and shut up.”

Back on land, Derek still hadn't let go of him and he was starting to panic that something was really wrong, he couldn't see why Derek would be so terrified. EMTs treated their jellyfish stings alongside those of the divers, scraping tentacles out of the wounds. They didn't burn too badly, just enough to be a nuisance but they were assured even that would go away quickly enough.

“Your friend saved your life,” one of them said, patting Aaron on the shoulder before getting up to talk to the police. "Didn't even give us a chance."

“What does that mean?” Aaron asked, furrowing his brow. Derek muttered something under his breath and told him not to worry about it but Emily outed him, boasted about how she looked over the railing just in time to watch Derek dive into the water right before the divers did. “You hate open water...” he mumbled and Derek laughed.

“Yeah. Well.” He had nothing to finish the sentence with, just let it hang there a moment, watched as Aaron squirmed under the realization that Derek cared enough for him to leap into wildlife infested water in the black of night just to save his life. “I'm a better swimmer than you are, someone had to do it.”

“You're hurt,” Aaron said softly, peering at Derek's eyebrow. Emily walked away, left them there to deal with the frenzy that was coming as Dave and Spencer and Penelope rushed toward them. Two unsubs were dead and one was in custody, they had a mess on their hands, and to top it all off they had two injured members of their team. To say they were frantic would have been an understatement. Penelope fawned over Derek while Dave rushed to Aaron, giving him a once over with a sour look on his face. Aaron didn't meet his stare, just looked down at his trembling hands inside of the blanket. The feel of that water surrounding him, rushing into his lungs, the way he couldn't see anything with his eyes wide open made his breath hitch in his throat. He felt the kelp slippery against his skin, felt the jellyfish burn at his wrist, the way his ears popped. In and out the world faded along with his hearing, one minute everything was too loud and the next he was ensconced in utter silence.

“Aaron?” Dave asked, nudging him until he met his friend's eyes. “How are you?”

“Cold,” Aaron replied, pulling his blanket tight around himself. Not a moment later he felt Derek's arms circle him, wrapping them both inside of Derek's blanket, and there they sat until the scene began to melt away around them. In the bay they heard the seals yelping, water lapping against the wooden pilings beneath them. The clouds parted briefly, revealing a buttery yellow moon and her light pooling over the calm, glittering black water. He wasn't sure his body temperature would ever return to normal, but he didn't mind the view as he sat and waited.

Next Chapter ->

Breathless Charm

Notes: A short little Hotch/Rossi first date story for @valyerena. Happy Birthday! I have more in the works for these two (a lot of my 200 followers celebration requests have been for Hossi and I'm not upset), but I wanted to make sure to get something up for your birthday. <3 It's barely edited and a little disjointed but fluffy and sweet.

There was a little restaurant Aaron had always wanted to go to. It was right down on the pier with a view of the water and Mount Rainier, but Haley didn't like seafood and it was far too indulgent to go on his own, or so he told himself. It wasn't exactly fancy, you didn't need reservations and there certainly wasn't a dress code but there was just something that had always just drawn him to it. In fact, it was more of a tourist trap than anything if he really considered it, but that didn't matter. Maybe it was the bright orange neon sign you could see from miles away, right there on the boardwalk, next to the aquarium and the tourists and the smell of the Puget Sound that called to him. He'd walked by it dozens of times a week during his lunch hour, biked past it, rode the train past it. No matter where he went in Seattle, he seemed to gravitate there, and yet he never went, just watched couples and happy families going in and out and dreamed of it. It had become an odd fixation of his, a point of contention between he and Haley until they moved back East and it was forced to live only in his subconscious.

“Aaron, why don't you just get lunch there? It's a fish bar, not a Michelin star restaurant.”

“By myself?” he asked, scandalized by the thought. He wasn't sure why, he'd always liked being alone, he'd eaten at plenty of establishments on his own, even gone to movies on his own. Still, he stared at Haley like she had a second head and she just laughed at how utterly ridiculous her husband was while she folded laundry on the sofa.

“Yes, Aaron. By yourself.”

“They have salads and burgers, too, you know.” Stabbing in the dark. He knew she wasn't going to take the bait. She just rolled her eyes dramatically and threw a towel at him to fold.

“I'm not going to order a burger or a salad at a seafood restaurant. Find someone who likes fish and go with them, or go by yourself. Or...never go. Your call, babe.”

Being back in Seattle, it was the first thing he thought of. They landed, and he stood up, arched his back to stretch out, and followed Dave out of the jet thinking about that stupid little restaurant, so built up in his psyche now that it couldn't possibly live up to the hype. Maybe it wouldn't even be open anymore, maybe it was a sushi place or a gift shop now. He frowned, standing in the purple and gold twilight, dreading the ride downtown. He'd asked them to just get them their own vehicle but the head of the Field Office insisted on driving them, said it was an honor but Aaron wasn't sure they'd feel that way when he threw up all over the backseat.

“Dinner?” Aaron asked, sliding into the backseat of the SUV with some trepidation, arranging his bags at his feet and on his lap. He hugged the door close and did his best to avoid looking out the window, instead he focused on Dave and the other agents while they spoke, just to avoid the inevitable motion sickness that came from being in the back of a moving vehicle. Nothing exposed his need for control faster than not being the one to drive. There was no focusing on a fixed point that would help him, just careful distraction, so Dave did his best to keep the conversation with the other two agents engaging.

“I could eat,” Dave replied under his breath, still listening to the agents in the front seat. He could tell the agents were nervous, the way they rambled on and on about everything they'd set up and done for the week, looking for nods of approval or pats on the back from the more seasoned agents in the back. It happened often when they flew out to help prep for big trials, and in this case, it was the biggest Washington State had seen in decades, so the newspapers were saying. When Aaron had been asked to come out, he insisted on bringing Dave as well, Dave knew the case better than anyone and Derek could run things back home for a few days.

“You like seafood?” Aaron whispered, taking a chance. Dave shrugged and nodded, a careless little motion that read as being non-committal at best. Aaron stared at him, willing him to say something, give him a solid answer.

“Sure,” was his reply, and that was that. Aaron took it as a done deal, they were going to his little fish bar and he was finally going to be disappointed by reality not living up to fantasy. They dropped their files off at the Field Office and made their way to the hotel, asking to get an SUV for their own use for the rest of the week. Aaron knew he wouldn't be able to be carted around like a child in the back of an SUV all week, there was no way. He'd rather walk or get a bike.

“We can drive you anywhere you need to go, it's no trouble,” Agent Kennedy said, a little bashfully. Dave shook his head and tried not to crush the kid, he looked so young. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so young in his life.

“I'm sure you must have better things to do than chauffeur two old men around,” Dave replied, winking, lightening the mood. “We can drive ourselves. Agent Hotchner lived in Seattle for two years, we'll manage.” Agent Kennedy opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Aaron's face when he returned from checking them in scared him into silent agreement with their demands. He told them he'd do what he could and left them to get settled in.

“Sharing a room,” Aaron said, waving the key. “The bureau's generosity knows no bounds.”

“Just like old times,” replied Dave, with a coy little smile and they made for the elevator at the end of the corridor. Aaron wasn't unhappy about it, he'd always liked sharing his room with Dave, there was something so easy about the way they fell into sync together, shared a space without stepping on toes. Dave always brought the nice scotch and he slept so peacefully that Aaron couldn't help getting at least a little good shut eye when they shared a room. “So, this restaurant you want to take me to...it's the one Haley wouldn't go to, huh?”

“You remember that?”

“Aaron,” Dave started, but he caught himself, carefully planned his reply instead of just winging it. Not the time to be coy, to flirt, not until wine. They'd been cautiously flirting for years, but wine helped. “I listen when you talk.” Sappy, but not over the top. It made Aaron blush, though, he could see it. Aaron didn't blush the way other people did, it never hit his cheeks, but his neck would flush bright splotchy pinks and reds and Dave knew it spread down to his collar bone like a rash. He'd made an inappropriate joke once while Aaron was in the hospital and watched it happen through the wide open gown, was so enthralled by how bizarre it was. He couldn't imagine anything more on brand, he even blushed in private, like he was allergic to attention. You had to know what you were looking for to even notice.

They settled into the hotel room, changed from work clothes to play, and set out on foot. Aaron decided he only needed a sweater, maybe because he was showing off over having lived in Seattle – he wouldn't bring an umbrella and he wouldn't wear a jacket, the locals didn't bother with those things and he'd been local once. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about it, but he watched as Dave put on his dinner jacket and a pea coat and he thought about grabbing his coat anyway, but dug in. He'd manage. It was April, it wasn't warm but it wasn't cold either. Their hotel was just up the street from the boardwalk, they could see the lights and the people from their sixth floor window. The walk was brisk, a little windy and they sucked in the smell of the briny sea air and watched the throngs of people pass them in loud groups, families with children tugging them along toward the aquarium or the market.

“A neon sign?” Dave asked, turning to Aaron, who had his hands shoved in his pockets to keep his fingers warm, regretting his decision not to bring his coat already. He'd forgotten how quickly the temperature changed on the water.

“It's busy, that's a good sign right?”

“Is it?”

“Listen,” Aaron began, but Dave just shook his head and opened the door for Aaron, letting him enter first. The humid heat hit them quickly, and Aaron smiled. It smelled like oysters and lemons.

“I'll try anything once. They'd better have good drinks.”

Much to Aaron's chagrin, they were seated outside, right on the pier and perused the menu as they listened to the water slapping against the pilings below them, the far off sounds of sea lions and the aquarium. The wind was chilly, his nose felt frozen but at least they'd been seated beneath an umbrella with a heater tucked inside so it was bearable. The wine list was enough for Dave to decide the restaurant was okay, not exactly what he would have selected but then, he had expensive taste. Their seafood was as fresh as it could be and prepared with skill, lightly fried oysters and carefully cooked salmon still delightful and soft and pink. They ordered nearly everything on the menu after Dave decided Aaron had waited long enough to try the damn place and then watched his brow furrow in desperation over what to pick. Conversation never lulled, and Aaron thought maybe he was flirting but he was out of his depths in that department. The more wine they consumed, the further back their stories went, dredging up old memories of Gideon and Max and driving or the time the bureau put them on a god forsaken Greyhound bus to somewhere in the mid-west, but they couldn't remember where now, the wine had pickled a few of the more important bits of the memories. Probably for the best, they both realized as they got further into it.

“You threw up in that nasty little bathroom,” Dave blurted out and Aaron laughed, nodding. He hadn't forgotten that bit, though he'd been hoping Dave would have.

“It was that air freshener the driver kept spraying, gave me a migraine.” That was the story he'd stuck with, but it was all of the smells of the bus, the motion sickness, anxiety, it was a perfect storm. He'd never been on a Greyhound bus before, and he had outright refused them since. There were two other cases that the bureau wanted to put them on those buses for and he paid for a plane ticket out of his own pocket just to avoid it each time.

“Yeah, well it was better than the smell of the diapers. I'm not sure what they were feeding that kid but I almost joined you.”

When they stood to leave, bellies full and more than a little wine drunk, Aaron shoved his hands deep into his pockets and felt a sinking regret over his decision not to bring his coat. The temperature had dropped significantly and the walk back to the hotel wasn't long, but it was long enough that his wool sweater would lose its battle with the wind. Dave slipped his pea coat off of the back of his seat and handed it to Aaron with a knowing smile. In truth, he'd only grabbed it because he knew how stubborn his friend was, his dinner jacket was more than enough for a chilly spring evening.

“No, Dave,” Aaron protested, but Dave just pushed it at him again. They stared at one another silently, Dave not willing to take no for an answer. He'd leave the coat on the chair before he put it back on himself and Aaron knew it.

“I'm plenty comfortable the way I am,” he replied and watched as Aaron pulled the jacket on slowly. He adjusted the sleeves of his sweater, tugged at them until they weren't bunched up, and smiled.

“Thanks Dave.” He knew he'd been played. Dave knew him too well.

They made their way up the boardwalk, side by side, taking the long way back to the hotel on boozy legs, breathing in the salty sea air. They were silent, just listening to the slap of the water against wood and rocks, the gulls above them screeching and squawking, the cars roaring past on the highways that twisted and curled above the city. The way the city lights reflected over the black water danced in Aaron's eyes and he felt like he was home, silly as it was. He'd loved this city once. Getting as far away from Virginia as he could had been his only real tangible dream, and for two short years, it was a reality. Slowly, he realized that might have been why he anchored himself so hard to that restaurant, a reason to return. Unfinished business in the Emerald City. It hadn't been disappointing, but he knew while he ate his meal that it hadn't been about the food at all, it was the feeling, the fixed point on his horizon. That neon sign.

“Fish Bar?” Dave asked, one eyebrow shooting comically toward his hairline. Aaron smiled a little sheepishly and looked down at his feet as he walked.

“What's wrong with that?”

“Oh, nothing. I just think I could have done better for a first date, that's all.”

Aaron made a small strangled sound, his neck flushing beneath the collar of his wool sweater and he hugged Dave's coat tight around himself. After an awful stretched moment of silence, he caught his bearings and laughed. “Okay, hot shot. Prove it.”

Mean Old World

This is a mean old world to be alone Without someone to call your own A mean old world, to try and live in, all by yourself

Warnings: Car accident, mention of surgery, gun related death, canon-typical Criminal Minds stuff. (Cut early so the car accident is hidden from anyone who doesn't want it on their dash.)

Notes: It starts with a bang but it's mostly just minor injuries, angst and fluffy bittersweet stuff. ~2958 words

Flashing blue and red, pulsing in and out, the swirling scream of sirens. Aaron held tight to the door handle as they skidded down alleys and out into busy intersections, squeezing his eyes closed when he knew he should be keeping them open. Hazarding a glance at the detective behind the wheel, a young man with a square set jaw and angry eyes, he tried to breathe through the agony of not being in control. They were in pursuit of their unsub, heading for the highway at dangerous speeds, and on a good day he'd be the one behind the wheel but this was not a good day. This was a bad day, and it was getting worse by the second.

“They've got road blocks set up!” Aaron shouted, hoping the detective would slow his pace, ease up just a little though he knew in his heart, his thundering wild heart that he wouldn't have slowed down either. Not when they were so close. Sure, their job was to corral the unsub, box him in, but the detective clearly had vengeance and glory on his mind.

“We're almost on him!”

They were, he wasn't wrong, but it was all wrong anyway. Maybe the unsub saw the road blocks, maybe he just decided to give it up, no one would know because his brains were about to be splattered all over the interior of his vehicle in the middle of Main Street, and the police car in hot pursuit was going to be up close and personal with his car very quickly. So quickly that Aaron didn't have a chance to react, he tensed up and shouted at the detective to pull off, to stop, he was screaming but he knew there wasn't time to react. They watched in slow motion as the unsub's car spun on its axis, their nose clipped it gently at first and on the second spin the cars seemed to wrap around each other like the red and white swirls on a candy cane.

The scene flooded quickly with emergency vehicles, all three men involved in the collision requiring immediate medical attention though they would soon find that the unsub had put a bullet through his head and wouldn't be requiring nearly as much attention in the long run. Dave and Spencer were the first to arrive at the wreck, flashing their credentials at anyone in their way until they were up close, watching in a state of horror as Aaron was extracted from the vehicle unconscious. Alive, they assured him. His pulse was thready and weak but he was alive and he wasn't impacted directly so they appeared hopeful, at least Spencer thought so. Dave had other ideas as he jumped into the ambulance without being asked, insisting that while Aaron was unconscious his proxy had to be involved if at all possible. The EMTs hadn't dealt with FBI Agents before and didn't bother to question him, it sounded legitimate enough and they weren't about to stop performing life saving procedures on account of a man who jumped into an ambulance uninvited waving his credentials around like a man gone wild. Dave sat back, wringing his hands, desperately pleading with God and anyone else on another astral plane who might be listening to let Aaron be okay, to let his Aaron pull through because God he'd been here too many times and he held himself personally responsible for every single scar, every single ambulance ride. Aaron hadn't ever, not one time, blamed him for one – they were all on him, his actions, his responsibility, but Dave wouldn't ever forgive himself for any of them.

“He's stable,” one of the EMTs said to Dave, breaking him from his trance. “He'll have to undergo some tests at the hospital but right now, he's stable. That's something.” Dave nodded, as if he trusted anything they said. He'd been down this road too often with Aaron, he would present as stable one moment and then throw you into a tailspin the next by his sheer power of will or stubborn pride. Pick your poison, he loved them both equally.

As the doors swung wide open, Dave braced himself for the barricade, the nurses who would stop his approach, tell him he had to wait with everyone else while his closest friend was poked and prodded entirely against his will. He was pulled in the opposite direction of the stretcher, told he needed to sign papers and answer questions if he would just follow them, called sweetheart as nurses tugged at his elbows. The waiting room was packed but there were no familiar faces, they'd be on their way he was sure, no way they wouldn't come. And when they came they would be a force to be reckoned with, making their way through the automatic doors in an unbreakable pack like hounds of hell, sniffing out one of their own. There would be no stopping their approach, no way to deter them, and so he waited patiently for his reinforcements.

“Derek Morgan?” The nurse approached Dave, calling that name, as if he'd answer to it. As if it belonged to him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he swung around, narrowed his eyes and she said the name again, like she truly believed it was his.

“No...” he drug it out, like the letters just wouldn't get off of his tongue. Brow furrowed, he stared at her in confusion.

“Will Derek Morgan be coming?” she asked, peering at her paper curiously. Dave glanced at the doors, expecting them to barge in just then, like a scene from a movie. It didn't happen, but he knew it would be soon.

“Yes,” he replied with a nod, an understanding. “I'm David Rossi. Am I in there?”

“You're listed as a secondary, in case the primary is unable to present in person.”

“Gotcha,” his voice was dripping with sarcasm, he fought not to roll his eyes at her and the flippant way she spoke to him, as if she wasn't tearing his heart wide open and letting him bleed out right there. “He'll be here.”

He found himself hoping that Derek wouldn't show. He couldn't tell you why, really, he just hoped traffic or maybe engine trouble, something that would keep him away and Dave would be allowed back to see Aaron. He'd never been secondary, not once, not even when Aaron was married to Haley. He'd been top billing or not at all, and during those years he was racked with guilt at not being there, not being on that paper. He wondered if Gideon had taken his spot at first, was sure of it for a while but now, now he thought maybe Derek had always been there waiting in the wings. Silly thoughts of a desperate old man who couldn't stand the idea of losing his closest friend, he figured, but he couldn't shake them.

“Where is he?!” Derek shouted, stalking toward Dave like a lion on the hunt. “Rossi, where's Hotch?” His voice betrayed him, the terror scarcely cloaked by his gruff demeanor, as if he'd behave that way for just anyone. Dave pursed his lips and nodded his head, indicating for Derek to follow him toward the desk, intending to be present until he was told he couldn't any longer. He wouldn't give up without a fight.

“Apparently,” Dave began, his voice clipped as they walked. “You're his proxy now. They need to speak to you.” Derek felt his breath hitch in his chest, felt his lungs seize up and his eyes went wide and darkened by a few shades.

“No. No, what do you mean? You're his proxy,” he stammered, and Dave wasn't sure what to make of that response. He'd been a profiler long enough to know a genuine reaction when he saw one, and it didn't get more genuine than this. “You've always been his...you mean he's just been alone back there this whole time because of me? Dammit Aaron. Fuck.” He muttered the word a few more times as he sped up, making his way for the desk and Dave hung back with a sudden clarity, watched as Derek signed papers and asked with a genuine look of sadness and fear all the questions that a man in love might ask, and Dave understood it. He glanced at the team, the confused looks being shared between them, and he thought for a moment he might be able to do something for Aaron, to safeguard this thing that was about to be blown wide open by his error in judgment, by his own naive desire to show his love for another person in the best way he knew how. Aaron didn't slip up often, but when he did, it left wreckage of epic proportions in its wake.

“They're going to have Morgan go back with him, he was stable when we got here,” he announced, ushering the group toward a small bunch of seats together near a window. “Any word on when we can leave?”

“The jet is ready,” JJ offered, holding up her phone, its black screen glinting under the bright lights. “Just got a text from the pilot. Whenever Hotch is out of here...”

“Why don't the rest of you go back to the station and pack us up? That way we can get the hell out of here as soon as he's discharged,” Dave said, and he said it with such authority that the remaining team members were certain that Aaron was okay. He had to be, because Dave was planning their escape and they wouldn't leave without Aaron.

“Derek?” Aaron mumbled, eyes fluttering open and closed, eyelashes dancing on his cheeks like frantic broken butterfly wings. He winced at the bright light, squeezed his eyes shut tight but could feel Derek's warmth come up beside him, minty breath and soft hands. He pressed his cheek into Derek's hand, into the warmth. “What happened?”

“You were in an accident,” Derek replied, lips so close Aaron could feel the air move between them. “You're in the hospital. They're running tests now. Took a lot of pretty pictures. You know the drill. We're just waiting now.”

“Detective Ralley,” Aaron rasped, and Derek let his thumb trail down his cheekbone to his jaw, tracing the harsh lines and the soft curves, dancing nimbly over the swollen bruised places. His face was a mess, stitches above his eyebrow and along his jaw line, a deep red and angry purple bruise spreading down along his exposed collar bone where the seatbelt had snapped tight against his neck. They had him in a soft neck brace, it hid enough but he knew what he would find beneath it. His right arm was pinned to his chest in a sling, pillowy gauze covering much of his forearm.

“He's in surgery,” he replied. Aaron nodded, swallowing hard against the dry, thick feeling in his throat. With his new knowledge, he let his mind wander, assess what damage he thought he could feel but they'd pumped him full of enough medication that the world felt fuzzy and warm and he couldn't move. He floated there in barely reality beside very real Derek until the doctors came in with their big metal charts and he tried to focus though the odd throbbing in his head that wasn't exactly painful but he knew, somehow, that it should be.

“He's very lucky, Agent Morgan,” the doctor said softly, speaking around Aaron as if he weren't really there. In truth, he was in and out, there and gone. The list was rattled off, and Derek thought to himself that he'd heard worse, much worse, and when they told him they just needed to keep him for observation due to his concussion and then they could leave, he felt his lungs fill to capacity with air for the first time since he'd heard the metal smashing against metal. He'd only been moments behind, two blocks back, saw it happen through the shield of downtown traffic but didn't get through the barricades before the ambulance made off with his precious cargo.

“You hear that?” Derek asked, pulling his chair closer to Aaron now, watching the languid blinking and the soft, silly smile. “You're going to be okay. Some bumps and bruises, nothin' to worry about. Nothin' we can't manage.”

Aaron hummed his approval, attempting to nod his understanding as well but his neck was immobilized, he realized, and so he settled for just the hum. Derek noticed but didn't say a word.

“So what's the deal with me being your proxy? Rossi's out there ready to knock my block off. You coulda warned me.”

“Didn't...” Aaron started, swallowing hard against the grinding pain in his throat. “Didn't think it was a big deal.”

“Well, Rossi might have me sleepin' with the fishes if you don't fix this, man,” Derek said, but he kept his tone soft and sweet, he wasn't really upset. In fact, he understood that this was, in Aaron's emotionally stunted and distant way, a very very big gesture. It was Aaron saying I love you and my life is in your hands. It was bordering on a display of affection, a public one, and Derek wasn't sure Aaron really understood the gravity of the situation. He did, however, and he was going to eat it up as long as he could.

“My decision,” he rasped. “I'll handle it.”

While Aaron slept to the sounds of ESPN on the mounted television, a trick Derek had figured out a long time ago, he slipped out to the waiting area and found Dave sitting alone with his PDA. He glanced up as Derek approached and shut off the screen, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders.

"How is he?"

"Sleeping now. We'll be here another hour or two for observation, he's got a concussion they want to watch and a few other minor injuries they're treating. He's responsive and able to follow conversations so I guess they don't mind if he sleeps...I don't know. They said he was really lucky. Look, Rossi," he started but Dave shook his head. He'd had time to think, time to consider the implications of this information and the last thing he wanted was to take something good away from either of them.

"Not here, kid."

"Okay. But we need to talk, on the jet then. In the meantime, can you go clear out our hotel rooms? I'll get someone from the local field office to drive us to the air strip from here." He slipped Dave two key cards and with them a whole lot of trust, because they both knew one of those rooms would be pristine and the other would be filled with both his things and Aaron's.

On the jet, JJ and Spencer were already asleep while Alex and Dave visited over their second glass of scotch by the time Derek helped Aaron on unsteady legs, limping up the steps and through the door. Dave looked up first, caught sight of his bruised and patched up friend, and gestured toward the couch they'd already made up for him with blankets and pillows, attention Aaron would have loathed if he wasn't in tremendous pain and simultaneously very high on painkillers that only managed to help him disassociate from the pain. Aaron made eye contact with Dave, apologetic and soft, blinking a little slower than usual and Dave nodded, a small knowing smile turning up the corners of his lips. Aaron knew they'd have to talk later, he owed his friend an apology at the very least, but he was ready to sleep all the way from California to Virginia. He didn't have conversation in him. Derek helped settle him in, cover him up and he pressed a soft kiss to Aaron's temple, hardly caring who might have seen it. In his mind, the proxy change had been all the bright flashing lights anyone might need to know their secret and he was right. He sat beside Aaron, hand on his head, fingers dancing their way through his hair while the plane took off. Once Aaron was asleep, Derek moved and took a seat beside Blake, across the small table from Rossi who handed him a drink with a knowing and sad smile.

“I'm not upset,” he said softly, peering over at the prone form of his sleeping friend. “He's okay, that's all I care about.”

“I didn't know, Rossi,” Derek offered and Dave waved his hand in the air, trying to halt Derek's explanation. He didn't need it, he wasn't owed anything. His heartache wasn't Derek's fault. “Honest.”

“Doesn't matter. It was inevitable, and for what it's worth...I'm glad it's you.”

"Nah, don't lie to me, you don't trust me, you don't trust anyone...I get it," Derek sipped his scotch, winced at the burn as it moved through his throat, warming him from the inside out. "I would feel the same if I were you. I'm gonna ask him to change it back, though, it makes more sense for it to be you - I'm not in the field with him enough anymore. He was alone when you coulda been back there with him, man. Doesn't sit right with me."

"Kid, don't you dare," Rossi replied, settling back into his chair, glancing at Aaron. "You and I both know why he changed it. You deserve to be happy and if this was the way he chose to tell us, however asinine and misguided it may have been, so be it."

"I'll drink to that," Derek said, and Alex and Dave raised their glasses, took another sip, and prepared themselves for a long flight back home.