#agent hotchner

Just finished watching criminal minds 5×09 title "100". Crying. Shaking. Sobbing.

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

cw: mentions of blood, r was kidnapped by unsubs on a case, torture mentions, injuries sustained by knife, alcohol abuse

“Time won’t wait on me, I want to know what safe is.”

The purpose of your life started to fade away when you were put on medical leave. If you weren’t solving crime, you were wasted. Potential wasted, mentally wasted and well recently you had been physically wasted. Alcohol had never been a comfort to your wounded heart but after that case, it’s the only coping mechanism that could make you feel alive. Human. Physically present. Grounded.

Your mind had spiralled in the 3 months you had been home, your mental health too- which is why your return kept getting delayed. You failed your psych evals three whole times, delaying your return to the bau for 6 months.

You hadn’t properly healed. Physically you had but mentally you were beyond bruised. You had been taken by an unsub during a case, no sign, no trace, nothing. It was torturous for you and a normality for the team.

They hadn’t known you were taken until 9 hours after it happened. It was normal, everyone went to bed in their hotel rooms and then you didn’t show up for the morning meet-up and they discovered that your hotel room door had been kicked in. Within the room, things were smashed, you fought back as hard as you could but you had been unsuccessful against the unsubs.

You were tortured. From the moment they had you chained to a wall, unable to escape- they had beaten you, waterboarded you and frankly you were on your very last legs by the time the knife came out. They had slit your throat in-front of your team and frankly it was a blessing and a curse that you lived.

From that day, you refused to see any of them. Not because you were angry they had not gotten to you sooner but at the fact that they had to witness that happen to you. So, you shut yourself out completely and drowned yourself in your sorrows.

So now, 6 months later you turn up at the only persons home who wouldn’t smother you. Your boss. Aaron Hotchner. The man who arguably was the biggest state at the incident than you were.

You wanted your job back, you needed it. Once you finished the seventh bottle of liquor of the week, on a Thursday evening- you knew you needed help.

You arrived at his house, a turtleneck covering the scar across your throat and sheepishly you knocked.

He answered.

It was clear he was shocked, his eyes betrayed that as they went from alarmed to softer, welcoming.

He said your name like he was seeing a ghost. In a way, he was. He had not seen you in 6 months. No returned phone calls, no communication, nothing but a letter on his desk with the results of your evaluation.

“I need help.”

His brows furrow as he welcomes you in, scanning the perimeter. After your words, he assumed the worst and came to your defence, placing himself closer to the danger. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You sigh. “Loaded question… but no, I just need to speak to you.”

He relaxes, visibly and mentally. The door shuts as he offers you a drink, taking you into his living room.

“I haven’t heard from you in a very long time. We are worried sick you know?”

“I know.” You admit sheepishly. “I have reasons and I will get to that but first… I need to come back.”

He frowns at your words. “After what happened?”

“Especially after what happened. I’m fine now- just… I need to come back.” You don’t plea but your tone is begging him on your knees.

“You need to pass your psych evaluation before that’s even a consideration… Strauss must have mentioned the early retirement with compensation to you-“ he states firmly.

“She did. I don’t want it. I thought about it, Hotch, I really did but I can’t do that.” You look at him now, your eyes wider now and he sighs.

“Are you serious about coming back?”

“Yes.” You state so sure he could tell your certainty. “I’m falling into a bad head state being away.”

“That is not the affect you should have on break…” he almost lectures, but not at you. He argues with the universe to defend your case. Always the prosecutor.

You look at one another for a moment.

“Hotch, I’m turning to alcohol to save my feelings. I need to feel safe, I need my home. My family.” You explain.

He stifles a sigh, looking at you calmly. “Are you under the influence now?”

You shake your head, running a hand through my hair. “I’ve identified the problem and I came straight to you.”

He takes a moment to look at your neck, the nightmares he has had about you falling to the ground in a pile of blood flashing through his brain.

“I appreciate you coming to me.” He nods in approval. “We’ve missed you a lot.”

“I’m sorry how absent I have been- I thought seeing me would make you guys resent me in a way.” You admit your truth and at that, his heart burns.

“What?”

“Because you had to watch what happened- I thought it would be easier if you had not seen me until I could accept it myself.” You state, your voice wavering slightly at him and he pulls you into a tight hug. You’re shocked. Frozen. Until you’re not, you hug him tightly back and you feel him press his face against your hair, a hand running through it.

“You listen to me. We want to be there for you, we want to support you. You aren’t alone and this was not your fault, okay?” He pulls back and talks to you and you nod in reply.

“How have you really been?” He inquires, pulling away now and you shake your head.

“It’s best you know what you don’t,” you whisper and look at him.

He says your name again.

“Look- I just… time won’t wait on me to heal and get better.” You frown.

“It will. You had a traumatic experience and I strongly encourage you take Strauss’ deal.” He furrows his brows at you, like it was a no-brainier.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

cw: small blurb on a petty argument, aaron is lovely, teasing, gentleman, light mention of past relationships, defensive mechanism, pushing him away.

ps. It’s been a very long time since i last posted. I apologise. Maybe I’ll be gone again but I’m always here watching, reading.

“You’re being unfair.” Aaron states softly, his voice gentle and calm which was reflected through his body language.

He wasn’t wrong. You were being stubborn and unreasonable. After a long shift, you both fell onto the sofa and soon after you started to argue. Not an argument, just a slight disagreement. You were getting sick of the honeymoon phase, not actually, just enough to mourn how your relationship may fade once he no longer treats you so perfectly. It was on you completely. You were the problem, he had done absolutely nothing wrong. Call it self sabotage, call it an art of trauma in the past with your relationships but you wanted something to call him out on. Something to enable him to call this off, while it being on your terms. But… you didn’t want him to leave you- it was hard for you to explain your feelings about this.

“Am not.” You huff and don’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” Aaron pleads, his voice almost making you melt, but it doesn’t. Though, it does encourage you to look at him.

“Aaron. I haven’t touched a door handle in months, I haven’t opened my own car door in weeks-“ you stress. He raises one eyebrow at your words.

“You’re seriously mad over not touching a door handle?” He smirks slightly, amusement drowning his tone.

“I’m frustrated not mad. You’re too… perfect and it’s pissing me off.” You huff and he actually laughs.

“You’re starting something because I’m perfect. You’re frustrated because I am a gentleman?” He queries, that amusement still prominent.

“Yes. I’m frustrated that you have given me no reason to pick a fight with you, or leave you.” You admit to him, looking him deep in the eye now.

“You want to leave me?” He asks.

“No, I don’t want to leave you. I’m just waiting to pick a fight and then you’ll get sick of me and you will leave me.” You tell him, explaining your irrational thought process.

“I’m getting lost?” He says, shaking his head softly. He places that mighty fine large hand of his on your thigh. “What do you mean?”

“I’m scared of you.” You admit another truth and he backs away. He retreats his hand from your thigh.

“Is it something I’ve done? Honey, I’m sorry-“ you cut him off.

“No- fuck, I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not scared of you, but I am. I’m scared of how well you treat me.” You try defend your point but he still looks lost.

“Darling- I’m a gentleman, you want to argue with me and have me leave you, now you’re scared of me?” He tries to use his logistical brain on an explanation as to what the hell is happening.

You huff. “You’re perfect, you do nothing wrong and I’m scared of that. I’m scared because I care about you so much and the thought of you leaving me makes me sick to my stomach.”

“So you think I want to leave you, sweetheart?” His eyes and voice softens, moving over your face even more delicately.

“Maybe you will…”

“I won’t. I really like you honey and I think I know what that feeling is.” He smiles softly, tracing your face with his finger. “I think you do too.”

“You make it so easy to fall for you, it’s annoying.” You huff and roll your eyes at him.

“Its easy to what sorry? i missed that.” He smiles, cupping his ear towards you.

“I’m in love with you.” You mumble and he hears you and grins.

“Come again?” He teases.

“I’m in love with you.” You say sharply, not at him, just the intensity of the words spoken.

He grins, proudly grins at you. “I’m proud of you honey.” He assures you with soothing circles traced upon your skin, like you had just admitted a hardship.

He pulls you softly into him, his lips pressing against yours delicately and you sigh relief, your hand moving towards his hair and gently playing with the strands. The kiss is slow, passionate, tender with the words that you just spoke. When he pulls away, he stays close, his forehead against yours as he whispers words meant only for your ears.