#I didn't count the flash forward at the beginning of the first episode as their first appearance

[confused-pyramid]

While I breathe, I hope

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...

word count: 10.1k (omg)

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, slow burn, age gap, canon!typical violence, mentions of death, drinking, angst, so much yearning, hotch is a dilf

a/n: this covers events from the beginning of season five through the end of season seven, and includes mentions to specific episodes and cases

You can't go inside. The whole team is in Hotch's hospital room, looking at his motionless body, and your feet just won't move.

It would be one thing if he was awake and talking, but the idea of seeing him just lying there, hooked up to countless tubes and a heart monitor, makes you want to throw up.

You weren't the one who went to his empty apartment. You didn't see the bloodstained carpet or the bullet hole in his drywall. If you had, you definitely wouldn't be as outwardly calm as the team thinks you are right now.

When you got the call from Emily that his things were still in his apartment, his car still outside, you thought the worst. You’re ashamed that your mind went there immediately, but it's almost like your brain was trying to prepare you, just in case.

Your back is pressed against the wall next to his room when Derek finally emerges, an impassive expression on his face.

"How is he?" you ask, your voice reverberating around your skull like an echo chamber. "Will he be okay?"

Derek looks at you for a long moment, and you can tell he's profiling you, but you don't have the energy to gripe at him today. "Yeah, he'll be okay. We briefed him on the situation. You should go in. He's awake."

He's awake. That means he's okay.

The rest of the team files out a moment later, and JJ squeezes your arm as you finally take a step into the linoleum room.

He looks better than you would have expected, considering he's been stabbed nine times.

Fuck, was it really that many?

"Hi," you croak, your voice breaking embarrassingly as you flash him a tight smile. "You look terrible."

Hotch lets out a small laugh before wincing slightly. "You wouldn't look any better after being stabbed a dozen times."

"Look who's exaggerating now. I heard it was only nine."

Only nine. You can hardly get the word out.

"You missed Haley and Jack," he says simply, but you can tell what he's really trying to say.

Where were you when I woke up?

You swallow, knowing that the truth might be more than you can bear to disclose...because he's your boss. "I had to wrap up some things with a case."

Hotch nods slowly, but he doesn't press you further. You both know you're lying, but this isn't the time for torrid confessions. His face returns to its resting stoic expression and for a moment, he looks just like he did when you saw him for the first time.

"This lecture was supposed to start 20 minutes ago," you complain, checking your watch again. "You'll forgive me if I find it hard to believe that an agent on the Behavioral Analysis Unit has better things to do than guest lecture at Quantico."

Your friend rolls her eyes before turning to you, an exasperated expression on her face. "I actually heard they're being called onto some pretty big cases these days. Did you hear about that train that got taken hostage last month? That was theirs."

You scoff, already too haughty for your own good. Getting the highest test scores in your class has filled your head with hot air. "I'll believe it when I see it."

When Aaron Hotchner eventually walked up to the podium in front of the large lecture hall, everyone was either on their phone or talking to their peers.

He taps the microphone once and leans forward, his tall stature making him tower over the stand. "Good afternoon."

Whether it was the timbre of his voice or his self-assured nature, you couldn't be sure. But within a few moments, the entire auditorium was silent.

He starts speaking again, and his voice is the only sound filling the room. "Today I'll be discussing some the recent cases my unit has worked on, and how profiling helped us solve all of them..."

Your first thought as he begins his lecture is, 'He's handsome.' The next is a bit more professional: 'I want to have that kind of effect on a room.'

You graduate from the Academy a month later, and within the week, your application to be assigned to the BAU is on his desk.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask, suddenly eager to get out of this sterile, fluorescent-lit room. "Coffee? Jello? Tequila?"

He laughs again, but this time he manages to move less, so as not to shift his bandages. "Just water would be great."

You nod and dip your head down before leaving the room, the tension leaving your shoulders when you walk into the hall.

"He seems good," you tell the team when you find them around the corner by the nurse's station. "Really good."

"Yeah, kid," Rossi smiles, patting your shoulder. "He's a tough one."

You fill a paper cup with water from the fountain and are about to take it back to Hotch, when Emily catches your arm, taking the cup from you.

"I got it," she assures you, before shooting a nearly imperceptible glance at JJ that you wouldn't have noticed before joining the unit.

Rossi, Morgan, and Reid start walking back to the waiting area, and you move to follow them, but JJ catches your arm, holding you back firmly.

She cocks her head to the side, her eyes serious, but not unkind. "Come with me."

"Look," you say as JJ leads you to the opposite side of the waiting room. "I know I'm the youngest, but I really don't need a babysitter."

She shakes her head, motioning for you to sit down next to her. You sigh, sinking down onto the vinyl covered cushion, even though every muscle in your body wants to avoid what is coming.

"We all know you and Hotch are close," she says softly, her tone diplomatic. "We just want you to know that you're not alone, and that we're all here for you."

Close. You're not sure if that’s an overstatement or an understatement. He has definitely opened up to you a lot more since you joined the team, but you don't know if you can classify your relationship as anything more than professional.

A small voice in the back of your mind scoffs. You can't even convince yourself.

***

Aaron can't help but feel slightly disappointed when Emily enters his room with his water, instead of you.

"Surprised to see me?" she asks conspiratorially, and he isn't sure what he's supposed to be hiding.

"No," he frowns, trying in vain to sit up a bit straighter, "I thought- well, never mind now. Thank you for bringing the water."

"We're all really glad you're okay," she tells him, leaving a soft pat on his covers. "We'll find this son of a bitch before he can hurt anyone else."

He appreciates her sentiment, but the fear he feels for Haley and Jack - his family - still burrows deep in his bones.

Emily doesn't stay long, and soon the familiar silence envelopes him once again. Ever since Haley left him, his apartment hasn't felt like home. Not really.

He started staying at work later and later, coming home only to shower and get a few hours of sleep. It certainly wasn't healthy, but after getting stabbed in the place he was supposed to feel the safest, it is all he can do to keep going.

The silences had felt safe at first, but then you started coming over, dropping by randomly when you knew he would be home, and he finally began to understand what being safe was really supposed to feel like.

You are so young, barely 27, but you are one of the best agents he has hired straight from Quantico. When your application arrived on his desk, after a thorough review from Strauss and the director, he had been certain that you wouldn't be a good fit for the BAU. But then he met you.

"You were the top of your class," he observes, his eyes trained on your file that he has laid open on his desk. 

He hasn't looked up since you sat down, but he has clocked everything about you. The way your hair is pulled back from your face, as if to present yourself fully and openly. The firm set of your shoulders as you sit forward in the chair. Even the small, loose thread on your blazer that you must have missed when you were likely inspecting your clothes that morning.

You nod, clearly proud of your academic accomplishments. Aaron is the last person who would fault someone for taking pride in their achievements, but he also can't shake the feeling that you may just be another one of the 'rich girls' he knew in law school. The trust fund kids and Senators' daughters who knew just how smart they were...and knew exactly how to use it to their advantage.

"Your academic record is quite impressive, and you scored well in physical fitness," he continues, quickly realizing that he doesn't exactly have any concrete grounds on which to reject you.

"Thank you," you smile, your hands folded in your lap. "I would love to work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. One of my favorite classes at the Academy was in behavioral science, and I know how important the work you all do here is. I also got a chance to talk to some of the team before this interview, since I got here a bit early..." You let out a small laugh, and he can tell that it's mostly for your benefit, to lighten the tension. "...and everyone seems really nice. Agent Morgan is clearly a natural leader, especially with how he carries himself in front of the team, and Doctor Reid gave me some statistics about the rate of Academy grads who get into various fields across the agency."

You trail off as your rambling winds to a close, and suddenly Aaron isn't sure what to make of you anymore.

"Doctor Reid is a genius," Hotch agrees, before cracking the faintest smile, "but he can take some getting used to."

You shake your head, possibly misinterpreting his comment, but trying to clear the air nonetheless. "Not at all! It was incredible speaking to him. I think I learned more just this morning than I have since I graduated."

A slight flush colors the top of your chest as you gush about your experiences and Aaron finds that your curiosity and keen senses (and warmth) are the exact characteristics that will serve you well here. He is pleased that you got along with the team, and that's when he realizes there is no point in trying to find a reason to reject you.

You're already in.

***

It still hurts when he breathes in too quickly, but after three weeks of recovering in his empty apartment, Aaron is ready to return to work.

You've been keeping him up to date with the cases that the team has been working on, but it's not the same as being in the thick of it. After years of constant motion and always being on his toes, this last month of medical leave has made him feel like he's decomposing.

He only gets up to eat, shower, or, you know, and he misses being around people every day. He misses being around you.

As if his thoughts conjured you into being, a knock sounds at his door, and he gets up with a grunt when he hears your voice announcing your presence.

It takes him ages to get to the door, but once he gets it open, he sees you standing in front of him with a plastic bag in one hand and a bottle in the other. He's surprised to see you, but he's also very very pleased.

"I brought takeout," you smile, your eyes glinting in the dim light of the hallway, "and sparkling cider."

His eyebrows raise at the latter, and you roll your eyes dramatically, following him inside. "Considering all the medications you're probably hopped up on right now, I made the tactical choice not to bring alcohol over here."

He chuckles, watching as you remove containers of steaming Thai food from the bag. "A sound decision."

"How are you feeling?" you ask once you're both settled on the couch, a plate of uneaten noodles resting on your lap. "Do you think you'll be ready to come back soon?"

"It's not up to me," he sighs, his eyes following the movement of your fork across your plate. Why aren't you eating?

"Well, you can tell those doctors at St. Sebastian's that I said you look great."

His heart rate jumps before the meaning of your words sinks in. But the warm shade of mauve that flushes across your chest says otherwise.

"I just mean that you look fine," you correct, clearing your throat. "Healthy."

He nods, not wanting to embarrass you, but a fire courses through his veins as he watches the telltale signs of attraction wash over you. Darkening of the eyes, flushing of the skin, eye contact.

Aaron would be lying if he said that he never noticed the way your eyes lingered on him across the conference room. He had chalked it up to a schoolgirl crush, but could a temporary infatuation really explain the relationship that had developed between the two of you?

You were the first person he looked for when he walked into work in the mornings, the first opinion he sought out when testing a new theory. How much longer could he pretend that what he felt for you was strictly professional?

"How are Haley and Jack doing?" you ask, jerking him from his thoughts.

"About as well as you can imagine," he says sincerely, his expression falling as he thinks about how long it has been since he has seen his son. "It's tough being under constant watch."

Ever since Foyet practically called them out by name, they've been assigned a protection detail and kept away from anything to do with the case...which includes him.

"We'll find him, Aaron," you whisper, your eyes glowing with genuine earnestness. "We have to."

He nods, and only then do you finally take a bite of your food.

"I'm sorry, I just don't like red wine," you laugh, taking a sip from your chilled glass of white. "I'd much rather just have a beer."

Rossi scoffs, his "Kiss the Cook" apron lending him very little authority. "That's because you've never had real, good wine. Your $7 grocery store wines don't count either, kid."

Leaning your forearms on the island counter in the center of Rossi's kitchen, you shoot Hotch a look that says 'help me out here', but he just shakes his head, smiling at you from over the rim of his glass.

"Okay," Emily nods, taking a seat next to you. "I'll bite. Let's see this fancy red wine you've been raving about."

"Not yet," Rossi says, waving his hand at you both as he carefully stirs marinara sauce into his handmade pappardelle. "Red wine cannot be truly enjoyed unless it is taken with authentic Italiano."

It takes everything in you not to snort, but you bite your tongue and take another sip of your white wine.

"I hope you're prepared to finish what you started here," a deep voice rumbles from behind you.

Hotch comes up next to you, his hip resting against the counter as he turns to face you. "David won't give up until he gets you to concede."

"I can handle myself," you smirk, your eyes glinting with amusement. "Besides, when have you ever known me to turn away from a challenge."

He's about to say something witty, but then the edge of your lips curves up and you wink at him, and suddenly every thought he has ever had has mysteriously disappeared.

You can't stop laughing, even though it really isn't that funny. "Kevin asked you for advice on how to ask Penelope out on a date?"

Aaron nods, his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh. "He was very earnest, but I didn't think his prospective relationship with our tech analyst was more pertinent than finding a missing girl."

"He asked you in the middle of a case?!" you squeak, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you shake with laughter.

He lets himself go a bit and a bright grin spreads across his face. Your laugh is like music and he finds that his wounds don't hurt as much anymore.

The drinks don't have any alcohol in them, but he still feels lighter than he has in months, and he feels himself wishing that you could be here with him all the time.

"Yup," he confirms, shaking his head. "Reid was with me as well, and I thought his jaw would fall off with how far open his mouth was."

"Oh my goodness," you gasp, trying to control the giggles bubbling up inside of you. "Speaking of Reid...he really needs a haircut."

This finally breaks him and Hotch lets out a loud hoot of laughter. You almost forget to worry about whether his scar tissue is hurting him, because he looks so happy for the first time in what feels like forever.

Your heart warms in your chest and as you lean back on his new couch, you realize that you would come over to his place with takeout and cider every night until the end of time if it meant he would keep smiling at you like that.

***

Your ears are still ringing even in the eerie silence. Three gunshots and a choked sob and then nothing.

Your SUV feels like it's barely moving, even though the speedometer is hovering around 90, but somehow when you skid to a stop in front of the Hotchner family home, there's only one other SUV parked out front.

You throw yourself out of the car, running as fast as you can into the house, your gun at the ready in front of you. It takes a long time - too long - to make it up the stairs, but the moment you hear the forlorn mix of thuds and sobs, you're running again.

Please let him be okay. Please let them all be okay.

You burst into the room as Hotch pounds into Foyet, his bloody face practically unrecognizable as he gets shredded to a pulp.

"Aaron," you gasp, sinking to your knees and throwing your arms around him from behind. "He's dead. You have to stop."

It takes a few more moments, but eventually his hands stop throwing punches. His knuckles are covered in blood and his hands shake violently as he leans into you, his body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs.

Tears prick your eyes as you hold him tightly, working off the futile hope that if you squeeze hard enough, all of the pain and horror will go away.

Loud footsteps reverberate around the house and you relax when you hear Emily and Derek's voices behind you. They fall silent when they see the two of you, but you're unable to focus on anything other than keeping the man in front of you in one piece for as long as possible.

"Wait," you mutter suddenly, the team's arrival bringing you back to reality. "Jack?"

Aaron's body stiffens against yours and he practically springs off the ground, pushing through all the officers and agents that have entered the house since you arrived. You race after him, following as he runs into his home office and opens a small compartment under his window seat.

When Jack's small face peers back at you, the entire house lets out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, buddy," Aaron whispers, pulling Jack into a lumbering hug.

Jack looks at all of us over his shoulder, his eyes full of a youthful innocence that tugs at your heartstrings. "I worked the case, Dad, just like you said."

"Yes," Hotch nods, the tension in his body slowly seeping away, "you did a great job, buddy."

***

The funeral is somber and beautiful, even before the snow starts falling. JJ and Will nod at you from across the lawn as you make your way along the sidewalk, a few steps behind Derek, Emily, Reid, and Rossi.

You feel a light pat on your hand and you look down to see Jack looking back at you. You press your lips into a thin smile and take his hand, trying to warm up his chilly fingers with your glove.

"Let's find your Aunt Jess," you tell him as you wade between the crowd, all dressed in black.

When Jack is safely tucked under his aunt's arms, you trudge back over to where the team is all standing together. Rossi holds his arm out and you latch onto him with a grateful nod.

"Will this ever end?" you whisper, unable to keep the pain festering inside of you for a moment longer. "The pain can't go on forever, can it?"

He brings his other hand up and lays it on top of yours, holding you to him for a small, comforting moment. 

"It will feel like forever," he sighs, his usually reassuring voice suddenly low and anguished, "but it won't be...and that's the important thing." 

Haley's casket is carried up the snow-blanketed hill and when the proceedings begin, you watch as Aaron clasps his hands together, his head permanently dipped down.

You can feel his sadness from here, and you would give anything to be able to take it away, but this isn't the time. This is the time for remembrance and appreciation of the life Haley lived. The loyal friend, the loving wife, the devoted mother.

Jessica squeezes your hand as she passes by you, and when she makes her way up to the front, Aaron begins his eulogy.

"Haley was my best friend since we were in high school..."

***

Even when it seems like nothing will ever be the same, things eventually manage to return to normal. Jessica has been helping out with Jack when Hotch is at work, but you can see the strain being a single father is putting on him.

When the team is called to a small fishing town in rural Alaska, you can feel the stress emanating off of him from being so far from Jack for so long, but he doesn't let it get in the way of the work. He never does.

"I've got four of the upstairs rooms available," Rhodes, the police chief, explains when you all arrive at the singular lodge in town.

Uh, four?

"Uh, four?" Derek asks, echoing your thoughts.

Rhodes sighs, clearly starting to regret calling us at all. "Your team is double the size of my department."

When we don't say anything, he shakes his head and bids us goodbye. "I'll see you in the morning."

When he leaves, Hotch turns to us. "Looks like we'll have to double up."

"I'm not sleeping with Reid," Derek points, shaking his head.

You stifle a laugh when Garcia immediately latches onto Derek, piping up with a "Dibs!"

By the time night falls, you end up bunking with Garcia, which works just fine for you, except for the fact that you can't sleep.

Penelope has been out like a light since everyone called it a night an hour ago, but you've been staring at the ceiling, unable to catch a wink.

A half hour later, you finally give up, grabbing your files and shutting the door quietly behind you. You tiptoe down the stairs, hoping that the small seating area in the lobby will be empty, but when it comes into view, you spot someone sitting in front of the crackling fireplace.

"I want to dance!" JJ announces, clapping her hands together as she bounces on her toes. "I love this song."

"You go right on ahead, darlin'," Will says, pressing a kiss to her temple.

JJ shoots him a knowing look that feels so familiar it makes your chest hurt. You would give anything to have that sweet domesticity with someone you loved.

"If you won't join me, then my girls will," she fires back, reaching out to grab at your hands.

Emily and Penelope start to shake their heads, but JJ looks so excited that you can't help but mirror her enthusiasm.

"Okay," you nod, taking her hand. "I'm in."

She grins back at you and shoots Will and the guys a proud look, before pulling you into the crowd with her. It's clear that she's had a couple more drinks than she should have, but as long as she's having fun, who were you to stop her?

With the bustling throng of bodies filling the bar, you can hardly believe that Rossi's favorite joint is about to close for good.

The bar is pumping a bright Abba song through the rickety speakers and you sway your hips to the melodic beat as JJ gyrates in front of you. Your eyes fall closed as you lift your hands above your head, trying to find the rhythm over the loud buzz of conversation around you.

Your eyes snap open when JJ squeals again, signaling the arrival of Derek and Penelope to the dance floor, and you grin at them as he holds her hands and twirls her around deftly.

You turn around, scanning the crowd for a familiar face - well, one in particular - when you land on Rossi, who smiles at you. You grin brightly, waving at him, but he heads to the bar to get another drink, shrewdly managing to avoid your call for him to come join you all.

Your line of sight wanders again, this time landing on the person you were looking for. Aaron doesn't smile back immediately, his gaze slightly hazy, but then he lifts his glass in a pseudo-salute, his eyes never leaving yours.

You know this isn't his usual scene, so you don't try to get him to join you on the dance floor, but when he reaches up to unbutton his collar, you feel a breathlessness you haven't experienced since your first kiss.

The rest of the bar fades away and the loud voices around you quiet to a murmur. Hands grab at your shoulders, but your body feels far away as your eyes stay locked on his, diving deeper and deeper, trying to see every inch of him.

You love him, you know you do. You can try to ignore it for as long as you want, but that won't change the truth. 

You're in love with him.

You snap back to reality when Penelope yells your name, and you shake your head, trying to clear the feelings that are rising inside of you.

Your brain feels warm and fuzzy as you return to your friends, and you're not sure if you can blame it on the alcohol anymore.

"Couldn't sleep?" you ask rhetorically as you take a seat on the well worn couch, next to Hotch. He's still in his clothes from earlier, but his sleeves are pushed back and his tie is hanging loosely around his neck.

He looks hauntingly beautiful with the firelight gleaming against his skin. You want to lean in and press your lips against his —

He shakes his head. "You too?"

You don't respond, instead reaching forward to lay your case file on the wooden coffee table.

"There's something off about this place," you eventually say, trying to describe what you've been feeling since you arrived. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."

He nods, setting down the files he was working on. "I think I understand what you mean. The kills have been so horrific, I'm shocked that the town hasn't already imploded just from trying to find the killer on their own."

"That's not- I don't mean..." you struggle to find the right words. "I'm scared for the team. I feel like we're all so strung out that one bad case, one bad outcome, could break us."

You don't know where this is coming from, and you can tell he doesn't know what to make of it either, but you're glad it's out there. Anything is better than the pit you feel in your stomach every time he - any of them - gets too close to a place they can never come back from.

Before he can react, you lean your cheek on his shoulder, a sigh of relief leaving your body as his fire-warmed skin burns into you through the thin fabric of his button-down.

This is the closest he has ever been to you, and the warmth of your smooth skin against his makes his breath catch in his throat.

He whispers your name and it comes out more like a gasp than a warning.

"Please," you breathe, turning your face so that you are looking at the fire. "Please, just...can we just sit here for a moment."

He knows what this will mean for your relationship going forward, knows that nothing can be the same if he lets this continue, but he can't bring himself to move.

The words flash in his mind before he can shut them off, and he closes his eyes, savoring them for as long as he can before reality is sure to set in.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Eventually, the fire will die out and the morning light will filter through the windows, and the world will come rushing back. But for now, it's just you two. So instead of doing what he would've done not six months ago...instead of standing up and telling you to go to bed, he stays still. Instead of stopping this at the root, before it can blossom into something he can't control, he sits there, with you at his side, for more than just a moment.

***

When Aaron pulls you aside in the hospital to explain the plan to fake Emily's death, you can barely breathe.

"You mentioned in your department file that you have contacts in Paris," Hotch is saying as you struggle to quiet the buzzing noise in your skull, "and we need them to help her lay low for a while as we figure out the Ian Doyle situation."

You remember nodding and giving him the information he needs, but everything else that happens that night is a blur. You can't remember who broke the news that Emily was gone, or where you went when you couldn't stand to be in that hospital anymore, or even how you got home.

All you know is that it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to tell the team the truth. Their gaunt faces stare back at you every morning for weeks, and somehow, at the same time, you have all the power in the world to help them, but also none at all.

You swear you can hear the crack of your heart when Spencer comes to your apartment every other night, tears spilling onto his cheeks, and at first, Aaron is the only person you can be yourself around.

But then he leaves too, and that's when the ground truly starts to cave in around you.

***

"Hey," you say softly, pressing the satellite phone to your ear. "How are you?"

Derek had handed you the phone after debriefing Hotch on the Doyle investigation, and now he was downstairs with rest of the team.

"It's getting harder to find leads over here, but we're still working," Aaron tells you, a quiet static coloring his voice. "How are...how is Jack?"

You press your lips together, trying to hold in the anger that has been bubbling up inside of you for months. "He's really good. Jessica is great with him."

Since Aaron left for his assignment in Pakistan, you have been spending more and more time with Jack. He's a sweet kid, and since you can't be there for any of your work family, the absolute least you can do is be there for a boy who doesn't have his mother or his father right now.

"Will you be home soon?" Your voice sounds different to your own ears. Tinny. Distant.

"I don't know," he says truthfully, his voice giving away nothing.

There's a pause on his end of the line and when he starts speaking again, his voice is clearer than before. "I know how hard all of this has been on you...I'm sorry."

Anger flares in your veins and you bite your lip as you hear quiet laughter filter up from the bullpen. "Hard? Yeah, it's been really damn hard to come in to work every day and lie to the people I care about most in this world."

You can hear the slight catch in his breath, but it only spurs you on. "I'm sure it's much easier to hide from the team when you're all the way across the freaking world."

He says your name, his tone not so much warning as it is fervent. Your finger moves to the 'off' button and you don't wait for his response before you mutter a quick "I have to go" and press down.

When you go back to your quiet apartment that night, the solitude feels almost overwhelming. You set your bag on your coffee table and pull your shoes off on the way to the master bathroom, where you strip off your clothes in one go.

Your shower is set so hot that steam fills the bathroom within minutes of you stepping inside. The scalding water burns away the pain and loneliness of the day, and for a few moments, you can just stand there and not think.

When you close your eyes, you can almost imagine that he's still here. That the searing rivulets that glide down your body are his fingers and that the hands that are holding you and comforting you with their warmth aren't just falling water.

It takes you a few minutes to realize that the tracks running down your face aren't coming from the cascade above you. The sobs you've learned to hold in and keep quiet start gurgling in your chest, and before you can tamp them down, they burst out in full force.

Your knees give out and you crumble to the floor of your shower. The salt of your tears mixes with the water around you and for the first time ever, you hate him almost as much as you love him.

***

Everyone looks just as confused as you do when they are called into the office extra early for seemingly no reason. You all meet in the conference room, trying to figure out what kind of case could be so secretive that none of you were briefed, when a figure appears in the doorway.

"Welcome back," Derek mutters from across the room, but you can't take your eyes off of Aaron (and his beard?).

"You're back," you exhale, equal amounts of joy and fury flooding your system.

"Everyone," he nods, motioning to you all, "take a seat."

Everyone sits down obediently, and then he dives into the speech that you have both dreaded and looked forward to for months.

"Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team."

The lying is finally over.

"As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle."

They look so confused. God, why can't he get to the point.

"But the doctors were able to stabilize her."

There it is. She's okay. Emily is alive, and she's okay.

"Her identity was strictly need-to-know."

They look so betrayed. You've been lying to them for months, of course they feel betrayed.

"She's alive?" Penelope asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer gapes. "...But we buried her."

Aaron closes his eyes for a moment, and you can see the emotions swirling inside of his head. Pain, anger, self-hatred.

"If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me."

"Who else knew?" Derek yells, his eyes brimming with hurt.

Aaron's eyes flash to you for barely a moment, but it's enough. They all turn to you, disbelief coloring their features.

"This whole time?" Reid mutters, his eyes not fully meeting yours. "You knew this whole time?"

You are spared from answering when Emily steps into the doorway, a shawl thrown over her shoulders. You know you don't deserve the reunion as much as they all do, but seeing her is still a shock.

Even though you were privy to the details of her re-assignment, you haven't seen her since that day at the hospital either. Penelope and Spencer rush forward, pulling her into desperate hugs that burn your throat with tears.

Morgan is standing still, his hands motionless on the back of one of the conference room chairs.

"Derek," you plead, trying to catch his eye. "I'm so sorr-"

He doesn't let you finish, his hand coming up in an evasive gesture. "Save it."

A sob catches in your throat and you walk out of the room.

***

Aaron's apartment building looks exactly the same as it did seven months ago, when you came to say goodbye before he left for Pakistan.

You sit in your car for what feels like hours, but when you finally step out onto the street, it's only been ten minutes.

After Hotch broke the news to the team, you went home in a haze, unsure of how you were even able to drive. Hours of sitting by yourself in the dark didn't do anything to change your mental state, and you were already in the car when you realized what was eating at you.

Now you are in front of his door and you can hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. When the door opens, you push past him, swiveling your head as you look around the apartment.

"Is Jack here?" you ask, searching for his telltale head of blonde hair.

Hotch shakes his head, clearly confused. "He's with Jess until tomorrow."

You nod, trying to formulate what you want to say in your head. There are so many words swirling around your brain, but nothing feels just right.

"What's going on?" he asks, taking a step towards you. "Are you doing okay?"

That's what breaks you.

"Am I doing okay?" you cry, your hands coming up to rake your hair back. "Emily's finally back, and I can't even enjoy it, because the whole team hates me."

"I'm sorry," he says, his brow furrowing. He takes another step toward you. "They're going to hate me too, if that makes you feel any better."

You scoff, turning away from him as you pace across his living room. "They'll never hate you as much as they hate me, because you weren't here. You weren't the one lying to their faces everyday for seven months. I was!"

He deflates, and suddenly he looks smaller than you've ever seen him before. "I'm so sorry for putting you in that position. I can't imagine how painful it would have been to lie to the team for so long."

He's saying all the right things and that only makes you angrier.

"You don't get it," you grit out, your fingers pressing into the back of your neck. "They had each other. All those months they were grieving, at least they were together. For a second, I had you, but then you left me and I was all alone."

Your voice breaks on the last word and he reaches forward as you fall into his arms, sobs wracking your body. "I missed you. When you left, I hated you, but I still missed you every day you were gone."

Your face burrows into the crook of his neck as he holds you tightly in his arms, his strong body holding you up as your legs threaten to give out. He smells different, like pepper and smoke, and you resist the urge to breathe him in now that he's finally here.

When you pull back, you stay in the circle of his arms, relishing the way his hands feel resting against your lower back. It's almost comforting to know that your body still reacts to him the same way it did seven months ago.

He's so close to you that you can feel his breath on your nose. If you tilted your head back your lips would brush his, and it takes everything in you not to give in.

But then the familiar warning bells go off in your brain and you take a step back. You aren't completely in the dark. You know that he feels something for you that isn't strictly professional, but you also know that if you lost him the way he lost Haley, you wouldn't be able to handle it. At least not with the grace that he has.

Your expression falls and his eyes fill with pain. "I shouldn't have left. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

"That's the problem," you sigh, resisting the disturbing urge to laugh at how deep inside of you he has burrowed himself. "I forgave you the moment you walked through the door."

***

Emily's return softens the blow of what you and Aaron had done, so by the time Ian Doyle is killed and the case is finished, the whole team is mostly working together cohesively again.

Spencer and Derek didn't speak more than a few words to you for weeks afterward, but when Emily made it clear that it was her life that hung in the balance, they eventually came around.

With the Senate hearings and Congressional oversight starting to take a backseat, the team was finally getting a chance to loosen up, and after investigating a serial killer in Atlanta, you all decided to make a day out of cheering on Aaron at the FBI triathlon.

Jack holds your hand as you lead him through the small crowd that has gathered by the finish line. The rest of the team is already there, leaning against the barricade, and Derek props Jack up on his shoulders when he gets to the front. He waves his big sign in the air and you grin as he cheers loudly, even though nobody has made it to the finish line yet.

"Do you see him, Uncle Dave?" Jack asks as he starts to get bored.

Rossi peers out across the trail. "Yeah, buddy, I think I do!"

You all turn to see Aaron jogging across the grassy expanse, his running form impeccable (of course). Everyone starts cheering and when he sees you all, a smile crosses his face, his eyes glinting with joy and amusement.

"Running should be illegal," you complain as Aaron pads along a few feet ahead of you, his skin barely starting to glisten while yours is covered in sweat. "How far are we now? We've definitely done at least a half-marathon."

He snorts, checking his fitness tracker. "We're halfway through the second mile."

You groan, slowing to a stop and putting your hands on your knees. "I have no idea how I scored so well on my academy physical. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"How old does that make me?" he asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

You shake your head, lifting up a finger as you ask for another minute. "If we're talking in terms of physical fitness, you may just be younger than me, Hotchner."

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly before patting your back and nodding. "Come on, let's keep going."

You groan again, this time more dramatically, but you start jogging alongside him, making a genuine effort to keep up. "Okay, so you can run. Well, need I remind you that a triathlon has three events...my money's on the swim taking you out."

His eyes twinkle like bright stars and you have to look away, pretending that the sun's in your eyes. "I think I can handle myself. Besides, I have a much better chance of completing the swim than the bike ride at this point."

"Well," you grin, speeding up a bit to run a few steps ahead, "you know what they say about riding a bicycle!"

"Thank you guys for coming," he says sincerely after hanging his medal around Jack's neck.

"Oh, we wouldn't miss it," Derek grins, smacking him on the back playfully. 

"How do you feel?" Rossi asks.

Aaron sighs, a small grin appearing on his face. "I'll survive."

Jack patters around the group and reaches forward to grab your hand again, and you don't miss the look in Aaron's eyes when you take it. 

The sweet domesticity you wanted. This is it.

Your chest burns with tears and you clear your throat, squeezing Jack's hand and helping him roll up his poster.

"Okay, drinks tonight," Rossi announces suddenly, clapping his hands together. "On me!"

That gives you all another reason to cheer, and you lead Jack to Hotch's car as JJ loops her arm through yours.

Penelope and Derek walk a few paces behind you, arms linked, and Emily, David, and Spencer are deep in conversation about something you probably wouldn't understand.

The team feels like a family again.

Happy tears sting your eyes and you blink them away, hoping no one noticed. But when you look up to find Aaron's car, he's already watching you, and you could have sworn his eyes were glinting too.

***

The whole team is crowded around one booth in the back of the fancy bar that Rossi selected for tonight's celebration. You are squished between Aaron and Penelope, and the conversation has gone from the average running speed of adult males (Reid's idea) to how many shots would you need before you'd be willing to go and dance in front of the whole team (Emily's). 

Your empty vodka tonic is sitting on the table in front of you, condensation dripping onto the dark wood as the ice melts.

"I'm going to get another drink," you announce, before pushing past Hotch and Rossi and slinking up to the bar.

"Can I get a cosmopolitan?" you ask the bartender, who nods at you before turning around to make your drink. 

You drum your fingers against the counter as you wait, but it doesn't take long before a tall, blonde man who looks to be about your age sidles up next to you.

"What are you having?" he asks, his eyebrows raised in a way that you're sure he thinks is seductive.

"I'm already set," you tell him, turning your body away slightly, "but thanks."

"I saw you with your group earlier," he continues as you flash your eyes at the bartender in a signal you hope conveys that you need him to hurry up. "Unless you're with the nerdy one, I'm not sure what the problem is."

"The problem," you explain, your jaw clenching as your drink finally lands on the counter, "is that I'm not interested."

You grab your drink and immediately turn around, but thankfully Emily and JJ have come up to order new drinks too. Clearly outnumbered, the man shakes his head and leaves you alone.

Aaron hasn't taken his eyes off you since you got up from the booth. When a man approached you at the bar, he felt the first inkling of jealousy scrape through his bones, but your body language quickly made it clear that you weren't interested, and that you could handle yourself.

He probably should be a bit more careful with how much he watches you, especially when surrounded by a band of profilers, but sometimes, when the day comes to a close, and he's had a drink or two, his shields fall down and he allows himself a moment to just...pretend.

Pretend that what you feel for each other is something he can act on. Pretend that you are someone he can look for in a bar. Someone he can call his.  

He's lost in his thoughts when David mutters something from next to him.

"What was that?" he asks, turning his head to hear him better.

Dave repeats himself. "It's okay, you know."

Aaron frowns. "What are you talking about."

"What you feel for her...it's okay."

His brow furrows and a pained look crosses his face. They were bound to notice eventually, and he would have had to tell them at some point. If not now, when? "It doesn't feel okay all the time."

Dave sighs, his fingers running over the side of his whiskey glass. "When you're with her...does it make everything else hurt less?"

Aaron shoots him a look that's a mix between confusion and exasperation, but when he thinks about the question, all he can hear in his head is yes, yes, a resounding yes.

Dave must see it on his face, because he smiles and shrugs. "Then how can it be wrong?"

He turns to look at you again, but this time the lights in the bar feel brighter than before. The music sounds clearer and the smile on your face sets his whole chest ablaze.

When you return to the table, you finish your drink, but you don't go back for another. You've noticed Aaron looking at you here and there throughout the night, but you're not sure if it's just your imagination or if you're tipsier than you thought.

The team is laughing around you, and Aaron's thigh feels warm pressed against yours. You haven't been this happy in ages. 

***

After what has easily been the most taxing case of your life, the weekend comes to a close with an evening you have all been waiting for almost as long as JJ and Will have.

"You clean up well," you joke as Aaron walks into Rossi's backyard, where the rest of you are scattered around, talking to the wedding guests.

He's wearing a clean, black tux that fits him perfectly. 

"You think so?" he asks, the ghost of a smirk in his eyes. "You look beautiful."

You smile in response, letting him lead you to the back of the patio, where rows of folding chairs have been set up. He looks better, lighter, than you've seen him in a while. It suits him.

JJ and Will get married in an elegant ceremony that leaves no more than a few dry eyes in the audience, and when they take to the floor for their first dance, you sip your champagne from a table off to the side.

Aaron is watching Spencer do magic tricks in front of the children, and he's wearing one of his secret, dazzling smiles that he only brings out when he thinks no one is watching.

"This seat taken?"

You turn to see Emily's hand on the chair next to you, and you shake your head, smiling as she takes a seat.

"You look wonderful," you tell her, patting her hand on the table. "I'm so glad you're here. You were amazing this weekend. This wedding wouldn't be happening without you."

She laughs, taking a sip of champagne. "I'll be sure to tell Will you said that."

You chuckle, settling into a comfortable silence that is only really possible with people you know as well as you know this team. 

Emily adjusts her dress and you think she's going to get up and re-join the group, but then she takes you completely by surprise. "You should go for it."

You look at her, confused. "Huh?" 

Deep down, you know what she's referring to, but if you can play dumb for a few more moments, you won't miss out on the opportunity.

"You and Hotch. You should go for it."

You open your mouth to respond, but she gets up and leaves you to mull over her words.

When Rossi asks everyone to join the newly married couple on the dance floor, you assume that you'll just hang off to the side with Reid, but then you get your second surprise of the night.

"Care to dance?" 

Aaron holds his hand out, only mostly certain that you will accept. When you take his hand, he's as much relieved as he is pleased, and he leads you out into the center of the clearing.

Your hand finds his shoulder as his slips onto your waist, and you fall into an easy rhythm as you look up at him, a smile on your face. You look radiant under the twinkling fairy lights, and he has to tear his eyes away from you when you lean in closer to rest your chin on his shoulder.

His arms envelope you as your chests press together, your breaths going in and out in unison.

You peer over his shoulder, watching as Derek and Penelope laugh in the corner, and Emily tries to teach Spencer how not to step on her feet. 

"Jack looks happy," you whisper as your eyes land on the children playing off to the side. 

"He is," Aaron agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. After a pause, his head dips down and his cheek presses against your temple. "We are."

***

When the night comes to a close, you are looking for Emily, since she drove you to Rossi's house, but a pat on your shoulder stops you in your tracks.

"I can take you home," Aaron says, his eyes filled with an earnest look that has you nodding before you can even process the offer.

The car ride is nearly silent during the short trip back to your apartment, but when he pulls up in front of your building, you can't bring yourself to open the door.

You can feel a tension in the air, the same one that has been building for years, and for some reason, tonight, you're not scared of it anymore.

"Aaron..." you whisper, turning to look at him, but he cuts you off.

"I love you."

Your breath leaves your lungs and you open your mouth to say it back, but he keeps going.

"I'm not some young player anymore," he says, a breathy chuckle leaving his mouth as he speaks. "I think you know what I feel for you. I think you've known for some time."

You've forgotten how to speak. "I didn't know for sure."

"I know why you never brought it up," he whispers, his voice tight with emotion, "but even though she's gone, I know she wouldn't have wanted me to be alone forever."

None of the words floating around your brain seem good enough, and you can't think, so you just lean forward and kiss him.

His lips are softer than you imagined, and after a moment of indecision, he reaches up and threads his fingers through your hair, holding you against him. The kiss is sweet and it feels like the perfect start to something new and fresh, but then his tongue slips along the seam of your lips, and you gasp, heat shooting down to your core.

"Aaron," you gasp against his mouth, your hands gliding up his chest and over his shoulders. "Let's go inside."

He pulls back momentarily, and there's a small smudge on his lips from your lip gloss.

You throw open the car door and practically speed-walk to the elevators as he follows closely behind you. It takes years to get up to your apartment, but when you finally get the door open, you're on him again, your lips pressing against his and your hands tangled in his thick hair.

A groan rumbles in his throat when you tug slightly, and he grips your waist, moving you back and lifting you onto the couch. 

"You'll tell me if it's too much," he says frantically, his voice low and strained. "If you want me to stop and take it slower, you just have to say it."

You shake your head, pulling him down on top of you. "I've waited for this for years. I'm not going anywhere."

He smiles against your skin, peppering slow kisses down your jaw as your eyes fall closed and pleasure melts down your spine. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you tightly as though he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.

Aaron's ministrations are slow and careful, and you quickly become impatient, your body squirming as you implicitly beg for more. You're practically vibrating under him when he lifts his knee and presses into you, his lips moving in unison with his body as he applies a glorious pressure that has you gasping into his mouth.

Where did he learn to do that?

Heat swells in your abdomen and you pull back, your eyes wild and your chest heaving.

"What is it?" he asks, his forehead furrowing. "Are you okay?" 

"I need more," you exhale, reaching down to grab at the hem of his shirt.

You yank open the buttons and slip it over his shoulders, reveling at how beautiful he looks on top of you. When his mouth returns to your chest, you keen against him, your legs pressing together as you try to ward off the pleasure rising inside of you.

Aaron reaches down and tugs the bottom of your dress up, yanking upward until it's over your head. Your hair cascades down, splayed out around your face like a halo, and he can't imagine that any angel would look prettier than you do right now.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and along your stomach.

The sensation is not enough, but the sheer anticipation of where he's heading has your whole body tingling. 

He takes his time, kissing the soft skin of your inner thighs and working his up around your core until he finally dives in. His hands takes your calves and lift them onto his shoulders as he licks a thick stripe up the center of your cunt.

You writhe against the smooth couch, your hands grabbing onto his hair for some semblance of support as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, his nose bumping against your clit with an infuriating rhythm. 

Aaron moves his tongue with the movements of your body as he painstakingly avoids the one place you are begging for him to go. Your hand tightens in his hair and he groans, creating satisfying vibrations that make you shudder.

Just when it seems like it may never be enough, he laves over you, sucking at your clit with a lewd, wet sound that makes you moan so loudly, you shock even yourself.

He hums with pride and your hips fly off the couch, trying to get closer and closer as you near the precipice of all the pleasure that's been building up. He sucks you into his mouth one more time and you fall over the edge with a strangled cry.

His hands press into your abdomen, trying to keep you still so that he can keep working at you, but pleasure rolls over you as your body spasms below him. You lift your head slightly as you come down from the high, and you see him pushing himself into the couch, his eyebrows pinched in a strained expression.

When the shudders finally abate, Aaron crawls back up your body, a big grin eating at his face. He plants another kiss on your mouth and the taste of yourself on his tongue makes you whimper.

"I want to feel you," you gasp between clashes of teeth, "inside me."

He freezes and you're afraid you may have gone too far, but then he's tugging off his pants and you can't help the small smirk that flashes across your face.

When he's fully bare, your mind goes blank and you move to reach down and take him in your hand, but he just shakes his head, pushing your shoulder back gently to lay you down again. 

The apartment is silent except for low grunts and harsh breathing as Aaron enters you slowly, pushing forward until he is seated fully inside of you. His size is impressive and it takes a few moments for the initial sting to dissolve into white, hot pleasure.

He takes his time to let you get adjusted, but when you grit out a "please, move" he doesn't wait another second. His thrusts start slow, because he wants to work you up until you're writhing beneath him, but when he peers down at you, his breath leaves his body.

You are everything he imagined, and he can feel you everywhere, from the flush of his cheeks to the tingling of his toes. You look like a dream below him, one he never wants to wake up from.

Aaron pushes into you, harder this time, and a barely constrained bliss fills your eyes, a cocktail of desire and hunger mixing to create the greatest possible pleasure he can imagine.

You squeeze around him like a vice grip, and a deep, low sound rumbles in his chest, stuttering his movements.

Your legs shake as he runs his hand up your thigh, before lifting it up and around his waist. The new angle hits a deeper spot inside of you and you let out a moan so beautiful that he can't resist dipping down to press his lips to yours. 

You tighten around him once more and he can tell how close you are, so he speeds up his thrusts, creating a rhythm that has you shuddering against him. You reach your climax a moment later and with you falling apart below him, he thinks that he finally understands what it means to have everything you could ever want.

After a few more thrusts, he spills into you, his arms the only thing holding his body up as all energy flows out of him. He rests his forehead against yours and his breath stutters as he falls onto the couch beside you.

You may be completely spent, but you're not ready to be away from him yet, so you tuck yourself into his arms, practically on top of him as he wraps himself around you.

"I love you too," you whisper, ghosting your lips over his pulse.

Aaron sighs out a breath of contentment and he pulls you closer to him, unable to let go just yet. Emotions that he finally understands rise up inside his body and for the first time in a long time, he lets them wash over him.

This is it. This is what home feels like.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner fic

[sheetsonfire]

The Escape King

gifs by @reivenesque

-

Fandom: Chicago PD / Chicago Med

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: drama, pre-romance, whump!

Warnings: vomiting/spitting blood, descriptions of injury, i think that's it???

Word Count: 2594

Summary: Based on the Chicago PD episode Turn The Light Off, Season 1 Ep 11

“He’s fleeing! Front of the house!” You could hear the various calls come out over the radio, Jay had gone in pursuit of the offender on foot, and Antonio was going with the car. Nadia was with Erin and Voight, Al had stayed back with Kim and a very pissed-off Adam had been given the slip in an alleyway.

You were also going by foot, sprinting as fast as one could manage on the icy and wet sidewalks, following Jay’s locational call-outs over the radio you managed to catch up just in time to see Jay, down another row of backyards, charge through an open gate in pursuit of your guy.

“Offender has entered a private residence, potential address-” You begin reciting the address as good as you can guess from the street you’d come from. Hearing Antonio respond that he was closing in on the location. You had your weapon drawn, approaching fast and quietly as you headed down the path to the kitchen door that had been left open. Reaching the threshold you lock eyes with the woman that you had heard yelling, she was elderly and clearly startled by the sudden altercation erupting in her kitchen.

Amongst the chaos of Jay charging at Munoz and attempting to subdue him, you're trying to use the moment of distraction to silently instruct the old woman to go and find somewhere safe. You push forward into the kitchen just in time to see Jay hit the floor as your offender kicks him repeatedly in the chest, stomping hard as Jay can only try to protect himself.

To your great anger, you can't get to Jay without making sure the resident is safe first, and to your dismay, she doesn't entirely move fast enough and Munoz sees her as an opportunity. With a final kick to Jay, Munoz leaps behind the elderly woman, stopping you from being able to subdue him with your weapon. And in a flash he's gone, the elderly woman letting out another horrified wail before scurrying off to seek shelter through another door.

“Jay?” You call to his hunched form on the floor,  worry filling your stomach as he doesn't reply, stumbling to get back to his feet. You quickly holster your weapon, moving forward to stop him from falling and smacking his head against something.

"Hey, I got you, take it easy..." You coax him to slow down and slip your arms under his to take his weight. His legs aren't working as he grunts in pain, and you can't help murmuring words of reassurance to your partner as you lower him back to the floor, leaning him against the kitchen cupboards.

Your stomach flips with anxiety as he spits out mouthfuls of blood, slamming his fist against the cabinet in frustration. Rarely did any suspect get the drop on him, and the result of such an occasion was one very pissed-off Halstead.

Jay tries to shoo you away with a groan, but there's virtually no pressure behind the motion as he turns his head to spit out more blood. Grinding out, 

“Go…after him…!” You feel that conflict there, Jay clearly needed immediate help but you didn't want to let Munoz have a clear chance at escape.

You don't answer Jay, reluctantly stepping to peer into the hall for signs of movement.

Departing the kitchen into a dark hallway, you see the front door is wide open and that the elderly woman is now lying prone on the floor in another doorway to a different room, having presumably been shoved out of the way by your elusive offender. Munoz had ripped his way through your team, and it was aggravating to watch him slip away like an eel.

You key your radio, “5021 Nora, offender in the wind, believed to have exited the front of the property. We’re gonna need two ambos to my location, officer and civilian injured”

Taking a glance at Jay you can see his breaths have become laboured, and the way he tries to mask his pain has your heart sinking.

“Dammit." You grumble, deciding you could circle back to Jay once you'd checked out the elderly woman. You come to a stop, crouching down to check on her. The pursuit of Munoz was all but abandoned on your end.

“Ohh, my leg.” The woman lets out a pained whine, and you can see she had fallen awkwardly against the doorframe, most likely knocking her knee hard. 

Suddenly, there’s a noise by the wide-open front door and you’re quick to point your gun, ready to defend. Yet the sight that greets you is a relief, it’s Adam.

“Adam, can you stay with her? Jay’s in the kitchen, he-” Adam waves you away, knowing somebody needed to check on him and he absolutely wasn’t going to fight you on it. Everyone in the unit could see how you felt about Jay, and vice versa, even if neither of you had admitted it yet.

“Go, I got her.” You smile briefly in thanks as he’s taking your place, a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder as he waits for the ambo to arrive, there were already two that had been called for Nadia and Kim. 

You’re quick on your feet back down the hall to the kitchen, Jay was more slumped against the kitchen cupboards now, almost laying on the floor, teeth gritted together at the undoubted agony he was in.

You holster your weapon, kneeling beside your partner. “Hey, tough guy, what’s the damage?”

“I’m f-fine, just gimme a second.” He hisses, an arm protectively held over his ribs as he coughs some more, wincing at the strain it puts on his body. His eye had a shiner blooming by the second, scratches and gashes to his neck and face were clear, and a split lip and some trauma to the chest for his troubles. 

You know that Jay would never, in a million years, admit to needing medical attention, certainly not off the back of taking a beating from a suspect. 

It takes all your might not to fully fuss over him and show the depth of your need to protect him, you rest a hand on Jay’s shoulder. Jay’s attempt to throw you a glare is cut off by a pained wince and somewhat of a whimper, not that you'd describe it that way to his face.

Reaching forward you make sure Jay’s weapon is secure in your other holster as you carefully undo the straps on his vest, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his ribs. He gasps softly, and you apologise profusely, rubbing his shoulder gently.

Your heart hammering with nerves in your gut, you really hoped it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Footsteps from behind have you alert again, but once again you’re relieved when Antonio’s face appears. 

“Jay?” He asks, concern etched into his furrowed brows. Jay simply glances at his friend with a disgruntled eye roll and a barely restrained cough.

You sigh, addressing Toni yourself. “He took a pretty bad beating to the chest and stomach, lacerations to the neck and face, and I’m sure some other pains he won’t admit to. Ambo’s on its way, Adam’s down the hall with an elderly victim.”

Toni nods, patting your shoulder as he slips past you. “I’ll see how Adam’s doing, we've already got some Ambos here, I’ll send ‘em your way. Hang in there, Halstead.” He teases Jay a little, ruffling Jay’s hair as he passes.

Jay grounds out a “Fuck off, Toni.” before being interrupted by another wave of pain that has him groaning, he exhales with a shudder, feeling the increasing discomfort of breathing and moving.

You smile gratefully up at Toni, patting his leg as he goes. “Thanks, Tonio.” 

-

Not even a minute later the paramedics come in search of you and your patient, you relay the information you had as you stand back up and away to let them get to Jay, waiting patiently as they ask your partner all the relevant questions, carefully guiding him to lay on the gurney in a partially seated position.

“Let's get you some oxygen, Detective, and then we’ll do something about taking the edge off.” 

You can hear Jay mumble a pained “thanks” as he finally gives in, laying back, looking exhausted as they roll him to the front of the house where you follow, discovering that Adam and his companion had already been seen to.

Voight’s waiting outside talking to some officers as you emerge from the house, walking over as the paramedics carry your partner down the path to the sidewalk. Hanks pats Jay’s leg, a wry sympathetic smile in Jay’s direction. “Don’t fight it, kid. You need to go, you look like shit.” 

“Yes, sarge.” Jay sighs, paler than he was before. He seems to be shivering now, even under the blanket from the paramedics, and it’s with that that his tired eyes start closing for a moment.

Voight then looks at you and nods, gesturing to Jay and then the waiting truck, indicating you could go with him. You lift up a thumb, giving a grateful “Thanks, Sarge.” as you follow Jay to the ambo.

-

The journey to Med starts out quiet enough, you can see Jay wrestle with putting on a brave face vs. just letting his actual agony show. His breathing had become a concern to the paramedic, only able to give Jay oxygen until he had been examined at Med.

Jay had tried to remove the mask a few times but with a final death glare from you, he knew better than to fight anymore, not that he had much energy to do that anyway.

You watch him on the gurney with your uneasy thoughts accumulating by the second, as Jay's face becomes more pained, you can see as he tries to mentally soothe the griping in his chest and stomach. You had seen enough of these sorts of injuries to know he was most likely bleeding internally, given how hard Munoz had beat the shit out of him, you weren't surprised.

The paramedic upfront calls out that the ETA is 5 minutes, and you couldn't have been grateful to know that you were fast approaching help.

You shuffle forward on the bench, ensuring to stay out of the paramedic's way as they try and talk Jay through the pain, knowing not much more could be done until he could be examined, scanned, and possibly taken up to surgery to fix any potential tearing.

You speak softly, "Jay, take my hand. We're almost there, just hang in there, okay?" You're clasping your hand with Jay's, sympathetic to the fact that he looked thoroughly queasy, shaking from the low blood pressure the paramedic had identified.

"Just squeeze if it's too much, it's just me and you, alright? We're gonna get you seen, almost there."

Jay's tired, partially bruised and swollen, eyes flutter, and he nods meekly as he focuses on breathing, clutching your hand tighter than he meant to. You didn't care, this was exactly what you were there for.

-

From the second you enter the ED it’s a flurry of Connor, Ethan and April as well as technicians who examine Jay. You're left to wait out in the ED’s family room, eventually joined by the rest of the gang who had come with their respective casualties.

Antonio comes to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around you with a comforting squeeze. You offer him a tired smile, and he returns it with a gentle knock of his head against yours.

“He’s gonna be fine, at least Will isn’t here to tear him a new one for being stubborn and getting into trouble again.” 

You huff a small laugh at that, “True… I just wish he wouldn’t attract danger so much, which is ridiculous to say given our profession, but Toni…I hate seeing him so distressed.” 

Toni nods in understanding, despite the absurdity of complaining about your friends, loved ones and colleagues in the CPD getting hurt, it still didn’t make it any less of a troubling thing. Especially when Jay was as precious as he was to you.

A thought passes through your mind that you should at least drop Will a message about his brother so he could at least visit Jay’s room in the morning.

-

Time passes and eventually, Connor reappears, you stand, waiting for the upshot of Jay’s condition.

“He had some tearing, but we managed to get that under control and all being well during the night we won't need to operate. That could change, but it’s unlikely. We’ll keep him here for at least a few days, if not longer, whilst we keep his blood pressure under control and monitor the bleeding. He’ll be pretty out of it for a bit, we gave him so good stuff for the pain.”

All in all, you could live with the prognosis, exhaling deeply with all the tension finally able to wane a little bit.

“That sounds promising, thanks, Connor. I really appreciate it…Can I see him?”

"Of course, you can see him for a little, but he needs his rest, okay?" You laugh a little at that, feeling like a kid who's being warned off from getting too hyper.

"Okay, Dr Rhodes. I'll behave." He grins, and you follow him towards Jay's room.

-

The sight that greets you is one that goes some way to fix the uneasiness you were feeling. Of course, the sight of Jay hooked up to different IVs, monitors, and oxygen, none of that was pleasant - but the sight of him alive, without pain and giving you a dopey wave and a smile was also the best feeling.

You say your thanks to Connor as you slide the door behind you and step closer to Jay.

"Hey cowboy, how are you feeling?" You speak quietly, coming to sit by his bedside as you smile back.

"Hnh...high." He rasps, eyes drooping occasionally,

You snort, giggling softly. "That's good, high is good... You worried me back there, partner. I'd rather you didn't get stomped on by angry people."

"Mhm, I agree. Sucks...sorry for scaring you." He sighs, eyes closing again. You watch him fondly, scooting closer to hold his arm comfortingly.

He tries to open his eyes again, but you squeeze his forearm and hush him softly, “Hey, it’s all good, get some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Jay hums, “M’kay…G’night, Y/N. Thanks…”

He barely gets the words out before he’s off into the abyss of sleep once again. You sigh, still holding his arm gently, allowing yourself a small moment to just feel the warmth of him beneath your fingertips and see that he was going to be fine contrary to the sight of his slightly swollen and bruised face, and the equipment surrounding him.

“Night, Jay…” You swallow, hesitating as you study him, making sure he’d definitely gone back to sleep. “I love you, idiot.”

An ever-so-subtle noise from behind you startles you, and you realise Will is standing there with his arms crossed and a shit-eating grin directed at you, obviously, he got your message.

He opens his mouth, whispering almost excitedly as he glances at his sleeping brother, “I knew-”

You gently release your grip on Jay’s arm, checking again that he remained in slumber. Wagging a warning finger at Will with a hushed threat, “Don’t finish that sentence if you want to keep your luscious red locks, William.” 

-

Fin.

tags: @dumb-fawkin-bitch - @elius-learns-to-write - @resanoona

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago med

[mysweetgirl2-love]

Forbidden Family - Choso x Reader (JJK)

So, this literally ended up being WAYY longer than I had originally anticipated. Woops.

Let's be real, this prompt too was a bit out there--but from the original prompt list, I really didn't know how else to make this technically "PG". So, I hope I could at least achieve that..? Lmk.

I also, will admit, I've never seen the last two episodes of JJK (I know, a sin), but I have read through Shibuya and up to right before the Culling Games?? It's been awhile, admittedly...

I hope I did Choso's character justice, at least! He honestly was the most fitting for this prompt in the first place, so :) if you're wanting Choso content I hope this is alright haha.

Prompt #6: Baby-fever

Word Count: 3.3k (YEAH. I KNOW. I TOO WAS BOGGLED.)

✦✧✦✧

“Cho…” you delicately mumbled to the spikey haired man, his head laying so carefully against your thighs, your fingers lightly tangled into the roots of his hair. “Did you have a good day?”

He remains silent, your partner reaching forward to brush his fingers delicately against the fabric of your pants. His whole world so delicately held before him in what felt like the palm of his hands. Love was never an emotion he ever thought he’d be able to experience with the life he was cursed with, but you helped reshape that curse and make into something he found to be worth fighting for.

“Sure.” He easily replied, barely lifting his head in order to look up in your direction. “I knew that I would inevitably end back up in your arms… that pushed me enough.”

You lightly chuckled at how soft and sweet Choso always made sure to behave with you. You had heard from his brothers that he was an unforgiving force in the curse world. He was a striking force to those who stood against him, and held no mercy if any living being would approach his family. Separately, both brothers had voiced their surprise on separate occasions when it came to Choso’s overwhelming want and acceptance of you.

It was pure accident, you had stumbled down a dark alley being pursued by what you thought were a shadow. It at least looked and acted like one, but before you had caught it reaching up at you from the ground—gooey and rigid limbs targeting you in what had to be a dangerous gesture. 

All your life, you had been a witness to many strange instances of grotesque beings littering themselves throughout public life. Monsters that would hang on the shoulders of others, wrap themselves around limbs or merely exist in the space beside them. You had found them to be irritable, but never outright dangerous. This instance felt strikingly different in that sense.

You weren’t wrong to feel the alarm, when you entered the alley the shadow grew to form and quickly made it clear your demise was the being’s goal. Cornering you amongst the trash cans, it gurgled and outwardly grinned through its muck to register a facial expression. Never knowing the details about curses, much less beginning to imagine what utilizing cursed energy was, it ultimately felt like your demise was inevitable.

Seemingly from a miracle, a figure flashed forward at the last second before the specter could strike. It caught the goop with bare hands, the creature suddenly exploding in an array of slimy globs that landed with sounding slaps against the surrounding brick walls.

It all happened so quick, you could hardly manage to shriek with how abrupt the start and end of the attack had been. But, your protector wasn’t disappearing as soon as he had arrived—and he turned in regard to you.

He had been dressed in robes, heavy-white cloth hanging over his shoulders beneath a purple vest-like piece of clothing that clung noticeably tighter around his chest and waist. 

The man had a strikingly pale appearance, dark purple circles under his eyes that more-so resembled bruises and made him seem as though he had just recently come out of a fist fight. Across the bridge of his nose, reaching onto tips of his cheekbones, was a long scar. Inky black making the contrast stark on his rivaling white skin. A gaunt looking face topped off with two spiked ponytails on either side of his head—their color like his scar in being a pitch-black attribute to the rest of him.

There wasn’t anything else you could do besides helplessly stand before him in that moment, bask in a stare that could arguably kill. It seemed like it already had with the mess of goop now coating the walls and cement before you. Covering the on-comer’s hands in their forever darkness that screamed danger just as much as he did too.

What all felt like to be your finale in life quickly turned, for he made no move towards you when you back further away, cowering yourself into a corner. The relief continued, still, when the most he did was tilt his head at your distancing in the corner of the alley—looking back definitely not the best place to cower into if wanting to escape such a force that he had proven to be.

He spoke up, and it wasn’t that you were surprised that he himself could speak in full sentences, but more in that it wasn’t words of aggression. He spoke as though trying to console you from the events that had just happened, in compassion? You weren’t sure, the defeat of his target still dripping from his fingers making compassion something you found hard to believe he felt much of. 

There was more movement behind him, two different figures materializing from the shadows behind the man—both chilling you to the bone. The first was a strikingly shortened figure, with a distinct face over a gaping mouth that curved into an open-lipped grin. The face which the individual also held for features was definitely the most gaunt of the three—dark, seemingly gouged out eyes with hollowed cheekbones. Like it had sucked out whatever original life had been within such a body. It toothily grinned in sight of you, the first man waving behind him at the look you stared over his shoulder. The other’s mouth closed, as if he got the message to cease. 

The other looked more human like the first, towering over the rest of you with glowing, violet irises that were only further highlighted by the black of his scleras. The hair on his head was little, falling over the front of his forehead, a lighter brown compared to the original man’s hair, the rest of his face to wide and muscular too to really fit the hairstyle. 

He was shirtless, arguably built like a greek god with abundant muscles beneath a tiny, suspender outfit. The suspenders only there for direction as they “held up” too-tight-of pants on his lower half that clearly weren’t slipping down easily. Topped off with a sporty bowtie wrapped around his neck, white cuffs adorning his wrists, it looked like he might be mocking an upper-class appearance. He smirked in your direction, as if he knew what was going on and you were simply the butt-end of the joke.

Your voice couldn’t be found as the trio paced forward, and maybe his words had been so strikingly softer to the rest of him in wanting to lull you into a false sense of security. Striking at the last moment, when you would least expect it. 

With everything that had now happened, after the being chased end of things, it wouldn’t surprise you. Life was fleeting it seemed, you were bound to face your end sooner or later today… right?

What ended up being the case was something you never would’ve thought would be a result to such a day. You had been introduced to the trio in those next moments, Choso, who you had met before the rest, introducing them as his brothers by name before himself. You could see he was the most polite and articulate from his amalgamation of a family—and it all started to settle.

There was a reason behind his kindness, and it was almost just as innocent as the sympathy he had shown in the first place. He had saved you out of the goodness he wanted to be, but he staye from the pure curiosity you spawned within him. Wanting to know the spirit he had seen flitting around the streets of Tokyo on a more personal level.

It worked out for the better, arguing it was for your protection Choso ordered that you report to him once every week to see what else you had seen. On top of the intrigue he felt in your pureness, there was unfamiliar want to protect you from any danger you might face now that he was understanding of your circumstances. 

He had worked out that you weren’t a curse user, but in fact a mortal that had the innate ability to see the curses which plagued humanity because of their faults. You weren’t tied to those faults in his mind, though. His eyes never deceived him in purity of a soul, yours shining nearly as brightly as how he viewed his brothers—arguably a shine worth becoming apart of his family.

Never wanting to go against what will you could have against his ruling of wanting you apart of his life, since he too couldn’t rule out why that were the case but found the desire not worth debating too far, he thought the once a week rule would be sufficient.

Once a week turned to twice, then every other day, and finally resulted in a daily check-in--the same alley at the same time, Choso ended up just going to wait for hours upon hours for your arrival. Quiet eagerness founded in hearing about your day regardless of maybe seeing a curse or not.

What the both of you thought couldn’t get better was just the beginning of something beautiful; because once upon approaching him your foot had almost comedically caught against the edge of a crack in the cemented ground, and suddenly you were tumbling towards the Cursed Womb. He was as nimble as he had been that first time interacting with the hybrid of a man, racing forward and catching you up in his considerably strong arms. Holding you up and closing you against him, he held you close to his chest that you swore you could hear the willing heart of his threatening to beat right out of it. 

As though the final straw in your shared haystack, what was a building pining caved in on itself and Choso wasn’t going to shy away from his feelings any longer. He had finally gotten to hold you, and that was really all he needed to push him to a confession. A finale worth congratulating, you thought.

Now the two of you were here, resulting in your utmost protection from the eldest Cursed Womb and keeping you close even when times got hard. Fights were breaking out at a fastened rate, the World of Curses was beginning to build up in retaliation to humanity—and you being a human at the right hand of a high profile curse went directly against the motives of some. 

Suguru Getou and Mahito were never big fans of yours, in fact they had gone to Choso in wanting his support in their uprising that ended up with them requesting your disposal. He denied, obviously, he wasn’t going to break apart his family willingly of what other’s wanted.

They threatened further, and so Choso hid you away from the world after explaining the situation you could find yourself in if allowed on the surface for too long of a time. You agreed, willing to go with him as long as the daily check-ins stayed consistent, and he were careful.

This was the end of another day hidden below the surface, it always ending in the tired man collapsing against your legs and stuffing the side of his head in your lap—silent insistence of him wanting you to play with his hair. It just made him all the more endearing in your eyes… these moments precious when the rest of the world was continuing to stay so tumultuous.

His eyes were glued to you and his surroundings honestly could’ve turned to nothing in those moments, he wouldn’t panic. He would still have you, that’s what mattered.

“Was your day alright?” He mumbled, studying your features as if he didn’t already have them memorized. 

“Yes… it was fine.” You hummed in the wake of him, hand falling from being buried into the roots of his hair, brushing down the side of his face and tracing around the definition of his jaw. “Bland.”

He frowned at your use of the word, knowing it wasn’t you trying to negative, frowning because he wanted to make it better. Give you more to look forward to—even if you already found him to be enough.

“I’ll have to figure out a better situation than this…” he huffed, laying lightly back into your thighs, “Keeping you in here isn’t good on my part, I apologize.”

“You’re only protecting me, Cho. I could never be mad at something like that.” You reminded him, because he always fell back on this disparity when he found you every night, back at your “home”. He wanted you to have more, have something to do when he would be gone all day working for this, honestly, quite insufferable curses. 

The thought wasn’t the first time he had experienced such a profound idea, but asking something like that of you sounded so… wrong. It wasn’t his place to decide such a life-altering choice like the one he always thought of in result of wanting to be more—give more to your everyday when he otherwise couldn’t. 

You sensed his stiffening in your lap as he battled with himself of going through with the question, and it wasn’t the first time you had caught on to him wanting to speak. Every time the idea would be reminded in that precious place behind his face, between his eyes. It was getting him to admit the thoughts he had that was difficult, and yet they were what you considered entirely beautiful. Each always worth listening to and considering, in your opinion. Forever a curious mind, his curiosity having changed your life for what you would say was the better.

“Choso?” 

He knew the tone of voice, he knew what was coming. What you were going to be asking. This time, he didn’t know if he was entirely up for denying his thoughts. The question just always on the tip of his tongue, and the wall had been worn with that of which he fell on to keep from admitting to the question he always held.

“Yes, dearest?” His voice, too, was soft and easy. Clearly hesitant.

“What’re you thinking of, my dreamer?” 

The smile in your voice was clear, your fingers tracing down the back of his neck, against the stubble of his hair. He shivered at the mercy of your fingers, eyes closing as he figured how to word his question.

“You surely know that it can’t be anything good…”

“What makes you say that?” You counter quickly, fingers maybe jumping a bit on his skin with the difference in how this question usually went. 

Usually, he would say there was no matter to what he was thinking, and that he was again just wanting to lay against you a bit longer. Getting him to say anything past that was a trial you never passed—so the lack of a test to cut straight to him tempting his own answer struck you.

“I would hate to cause you any more discomfort.” He frowned into the fabric on your legs, your whole self enveloping every sense he had, “It’s not a comfortable question.”

“You can ask me anything, you know this.” You encourage simply, not needing to have his angst grow in finally hearing what he had to have been thinking in the previous moments like this.

“Well…” he sighed, lifting his head to face you once again, ready this time, “I was trying to reason how saving you in the eyes of Curse’s should go. How I could protect you against their wrath in having them accept you as a part of my being—which, you very much are. Whether they want to accept that or not.”

You flushed, like every time he seemed to describe the pure depth of his attraction for you, flaring up in the love deep within your heart. Adoration riddled throughout.  “Yes… I-I see.”

“So,” he stared simply at your burning cheeks with a warmer gaze, one that simply further liked seeing how warm your cheeks now were with just his gaze along with a few words. As lovely as you were, you were always going to be human. Humans were always so easy, and he found it be ever apart of the blessing that you were in his life, another note to why you were so lovely for him. “That being said. You are my family, yes?”

“I—uh… well, of course.” You stumbled over words, mind reeling, “If you say that I am, I would be a fool to say no.”

“Not a fool, but I do want to extend on that point… of family.” He easily replied, the weight of the world weighing now on his lungs as he willed himself to speak the words. “Extend my family… with you, that is.”

You didn’t quite understand what he was entirely getting at, at first. Extending the family wouldn’t be bad, he would find others if he chose to look, was he worried about your disapproval of people? Had he found another partner? Choso saw the signs that your mind had begun to race, and he extended a centering hand that delicately was then placed against your wrist. You found him again, eyes softening with your brow furrowing.

“What … what does that even begin to mean?—“

“Us, my love. Our own family, apart of my bigger family…” he cleared his throat, straightening up from your lap, speaking the words. “I’m wondering if you’d at all be interested in having a child.”

Your eyes blew out wide, and you could only manage to stare in shock at the man beneath you. “A—.. A baby?”

“Yes. A baby that can show just how strong our love is for one another in the wake of such… hatred I’m surrounded in.” He tried to explain, his eyes pinching closed as he riddled through the words that ran through his mind in an array of differing thoughts, trying to select what phrases felt right in explaining himself. As if he needed to reason the want for a child beyond his own desire. “It would prove to that vile spirit, Getou, that we are something worth existing. A child of a powerful curse and a beautiful human would surely—“

“Cho, baby, please.” You giggled softly at seeing his panic with the subject, leaning forward to your lap and brushing the tip of your nose against his own, “I’d be happy to be a family.”

You answered it so simply that Choso couldn’t believe his ears at first. But, his brain soon caught up with the rest of him in registering your quite immediate acceptance of the offer he bestowed, and in turn he felt silly all over. For those rare times you had been accounted for in the wake of his smile, this was another one of those instances. He beamed brighter than any ray of sunshine could ever hope to be, grinning happily up to you and all that you were. An angel sent from the almighty to grace him with a love he would never not be able to live without. 

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

He leapt up from the floor, arms reaching out and over your shoulders in gripping to envelope you in a surely loving hug where he only hoped you could feel the admiration radiating from him in waves. Love was such a joy in life he now knew, thanks to you. And this was enhancing all that he initially thought he knew—growing into a forever instead of just the want of forever. With your saying yes, he could safely keep you by his side with also a being to show how far that love was rooted between the both of you. With that promise of acceptance from both parties, he knew all would be well, the family man never going to back down from his always goal of protecting those he cherished.

“Here’s to us, then.” He squeezed you a little tighter, reassuring himself too that this was real and you were really wanting this too. 

“Yes, to us.” You immediately clung back to him, breathing him in as he had you and smiling in the fabrics of his robes. “Our perfect, forbidden family.”

#jjk choso #choso fluff #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #jujustu kaisen #fanfiction #writing #oneshot #fanfic #softtober #x reader #anime #baby fever #soft choso #family #fic

[htgawmsource]

First and last appearance of the Keating 5 and Oliver

#htgawmedit #htgawm #how to get away with murder #1.01 #4.14 #6.11 #6.15 #1x01 #4x14 #6x11 #6x15 #s1 #s4 #s6 #* #gifs #by dorianna #I didn't count the flash forward at the beginning of the first episode as their first appearance