#Pipe Cleaning Machines

[aaronaccessories]

A Guide to Pipe Cleaning and Cutting Machines in Singapore

Pipe cleaning and cutting machines are essential tools for any plumbing, construction, or industrial project that involves working with pipes.

Whether you need to remove dirt, scale, rust, or other deposits from the inside of pipes or cut pipes to the desired length and shape, you need reliable and efficient machines that can handle the job.

But how do you choose the right pipe cleaning and cutting machines for your project? There are many factors to consider, such as the type, size, and material of the pipes, the level of cleanliness and accuracy required, the budget and availability of the machines, and the safety and environmental standards of the project.

In this article, we will introduce some of the most common types of pipe cleaning and cutting machines available in Singapore, and how they can help you achieve your project goals. We will also mention some of the leading suppliers of these machines in Singapore, such as AARON Accessories Pte Ltd.

Pipe Cleaning Machines Pipe cleaning machines are devices that use various methods to remove unwanted substances from the inside of pipes. Depending on the method, they can be classified into:

• Internal pipe cleaners: These are machines that use pressurized air, water, or chemicals to blast away dirt and debris from the inside of pipes. They usually have a nozzle that can be inserted into the pipe opening and rotated to cover the entire surface. Some examples of internal pipe cleaners are:

• Internal pipe blasting equipment: This is a machine that uses pressurized air and abrasive media (such as sand or steel shot) to clean metal pipes from rust, scale, paint, or other coatings. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of 60mm to 280mm. • Internal pipe water jetting equipment: This is a machine that uses pressurized water (up to 3000 bar) to clean pipes from grease, oil, sludge, or other organic matter. It is suitable for pipes with 20mm to 1500mm diameter. • Internal pipe chemical cleaning equipment: This is a machine that uses chemical solutions (such as acids or alkalis) to dissolve mineral deposits (such as calcium or iron) from pipes. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of 25mm to 300mm

• External pipe cleaners: These are machines that use brushes, scrapers, or other tools to clean the outside of pipes. They usually have a clamp that can hold the pipe in place and a motor that can rotate the tool around the pipe. Some examples of external pipe cleaners are:

• External pipe brushing equipment: This is a machine that uses wire brushes to remove dirt and rust from the outside of metal pipes. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of 50mm to 300mm • External pipe scraping equipment: This is a machine that uses metal scrapers to remove paint or other coatings from the outside of pipes. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of 50mm to 300mm.

Pipe Cutting Machines Pipe-cutting machines are devices that use various methods to cut pipes to the desired length and shape. Depending on the method, they can be classified into:

• Manual pipe cutters: These are hand-held tools that use blades, wheels, or chains to cut pipes by applying manual force. They are usually cheap and easy to use, but they may not be very accurate or fast. Some examples of manual pipe cutters are:

• Pipe cutter: This is a tool that has a sharp wheel that can cut through metal pipes by rotating around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 100mm.

• Pipe saw: This is a tool that has a blade that can cut through plastic or PVC pipes by moving back and forth along them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 160mm.

• Pipe chain cutter: This is a tool that has a chain that can cut through cast iron or clay pipes by tightening around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 600mm.

• Electric pipe cutters: These are machines that use electric motors to power blades, wheels, or chains to cut pipes by applying mechanical force. They are usually more accurate and fast than manual pipe cutters, but they may be more expensive and require electricity. Some examples of electric pipe cutters are:

• Electric pipe cutter: This is a machine that has a sharp wheel that can cut through metal pipes by rotating around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 300mm.

• Electric pipe saw: This is a machine that has a blade that can cut through plastic or PVC pipes by moving back and forth along them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 400mm.

• Electric pipe chain cutter: This is a machine that has a chain that can cut through cast iron or clay pipes by tightening around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 900mm.

• Hydraulic pipe cutters: These are machines that use hydraulic pressure to power blades, wheels, or chains to cut pipes by applying fluid force. They are usually more powerful and versatile than electric pipe cutters, but they may be bulky and noisy. Some examples of hydraulic pipe cutters are:

• Hydraulic pipe cutter: This is a machine that has a sharp wheel that can cut through metal pipes by rotating around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 600mm.

• Hydraulic pipe saw: This is a machine that has a blade that can cut through plastic or PVC pipes by moving back and forth along them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 600mm.

• Hydraulic pipe chain cutter: This is a machine that has a chain that can cut through cast iron or clay pipes by tightening around them. It is suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 1200mm.

Pipe Grooving Machines Pipe grooving machines are devices that use various methods to create grooves on the ends of pipes. These grooves are used to connect pipes with couplings or fittings without welding or threading. Pipe grooving machines can improve pipe installation and maintenance efficiency and safety.

Depending on the method, pipe grooving machines can be classified into:

• Roll grooving machines: These are machines that use rollers to press grooves into metal pipes by rotating around them. They are suitable for pipes with 25mm to 600mm diameter.

• Cut grooving machines: These are machines that use blades to cut grooves into metal pipes by moving along them. They are suitable for pipes with 50mm to 900mm diameter.

Pipe Threading Machines Pipe threading machines are devices that use various methods to create threads on the ends of pipes. These threads are used to connect pipes with couplings or fittings by screwing them together. Pipe threading machines can provide a strong and leak-proof connection for pipe systems.

Depending on the method, pipe threading machines can be classified into:

• Manual pipe threading machines: These are hand-held tools that use dies to create threads on metal pipes by applying manual force. They are usually cheap and easy to use, but they may not be very accurate or fast. They are suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 50mm.

Electric pipe threading machines: These are machines that use electric motors to power dies to create threads on metal pipes by applying mechanical force.

They are usually more accurate and fast than manual pipe threading machines, but they may be more expensive and require electricity. They are suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 150mm.

Hydraulic pipe threading machines: These are machines that use hydraulic pressure to power dies to create threads on metal pipes by applying fluid force.

They are usually more powerful and versatile than electric pipe threading machines, but they may be more bulky and noisy. They are suitable for pipes with a diameter of up to 300mm.

How to Choose the Right Pipe Cleaning and Cutting Machines for Your Project As you can see, there are many types of pipe cleaning and cutting machines available in Singapore, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. To choose the right ones for your project, you need to consider the following factors:

The type size and material of the pipes: Different types of pipes may require different methods of cleaning and cutting.

For example, metal pipes may need blasting or brushing, while plastic or PVC pipes may need water jetting or sawing.

Similarly, different sizes and materials of pipes may have different limitations and specifications for cleaning and cutting. For example, larger or thicker pipes may need more powerful or specialized machines, while softer or brittle pipes may need more gentle or precise machines.

• The level of cleanliness and accuracy required: Different levels of cleanliness and accuracy may require different methods of cleaning and cutting. For example, if you need to remove all traces of dirt, rust, paint, or coatings from the inside or outside of pipes, you may need blasting or scraping equipment. If you need to cut pipes to exact lengths and shapes, you may need

[asexualbookbird]

i think ive earned some big gate energy time

[emergencyplumbingil]

Hydro jetting is a highly effective method of cleaning and unclogging sewer pipes. It involves using a specialized machine that generates high-pressure water streams to remove debris, grease, tree roots, and other obstructions from the inside of the pipes. During the hydro jetting process, a professional plumber will insert a flexible hose with a specialized nozzle into the sewer pipe. The hose is connected to a high-pressure water machine that can deliver water at pressures typically ranging from 1,500 to 4,000 pounds per square inch (psi). The plumber carefully guides the hose through the pipe, allowing the pressurized water to blast away any blockages and thoroughly clean the pipe walls. The high-pressure water effectively cuts through and flushes out accumulated debris, roots, and other substances that may be causing clogs or reduced flow. As a result, hydro jetting can significantly improve the functioning and flow capacity of sewer pipes. Hydro jetting is often considered a preferable option compared to traditional drain snaking or chemical treatments because it offers a more thorough and long-lasting cleaning solution. It can reach all parts of the pipe, including bends and joints, effectively removing any built-up material. However, it's important to note that hydro jetting should be performed by trained professionals with the appropriate equipment and expertise. Improper use of high-pressure water can potentially damage older or fragile pipes. Therefore, it's crucial to consult with a licensed plumber who can assess your specific situation, determine if hydro jetting is suitable, and ensure the process is performed safely and effectively. If you suspect you have a clogged or slow-draining sewer pipe, you can contact us to discuss hydro jetting as a potential solution. We will be able to evaluate the condition of your pipes and provide the appropriate course of action to address the issue.

With multiple locations throughout North Shore and Northwest suburbs of Chicago, Illinois, Emergency Plumbing offers prompt and professional plumbing services.

Phone 224-754-1984

[rockwood790]

 Introduction

In the metalworking industry, having the right tools is very important for achieving efficiency, precision, and high-quality results. Among these tools, hydraulic pipe benders are popular for their versatility and reliability. At Rockwood Machinery, we know the unique needs of metalworking professionals in the UAE and are dedicated to providing top-quality hydraulic pipe benders that meet these demands. In this blog, we’ll discuss the importance of hydraulic pipe benders, their applications, and why Rockwood Machinery is your best choice in the UAE.

Why Choose Hydraulic Pipe Benders?

Hydraulic pipe benders in UAE shape metal pipes into specific angles and curves without damaging the material. Here’s why they’re essential:

1. Precision and Accuracy: Hydraulic systems allow for controlled bending, ensuring you get the exact angle you need every time.

2. Versatility: These benders can handle various pipe sizes and materials, including steel, copper, and aluminum.

3. Efficiency: Hydraulic pipe benders boost productivity and reduce worker fatigue by reducing manual effort.

4. Durability: Designed to withstand heavy use, these machines offer long-lasting performance, making them a smart investment.

Where Are Hydraulic Pipe Benders Used?

Hydraulic pipe benders are used across many industries, such as:

- Construction: Ideal for bending pipes for structural frameworks, plumbing, and HVAC systems.

- Automotive: Essential for creating exhaust systems, roll cages, and chassis modifications.

- Shipbuilding: Used to form pipes for the complex plumbing systems in ships.

- Manufacturing: Perfect for making components for machinery, furniture, and other metal products.

Why Rockwood Machinery is Your Best Choice in the UAE

At Rockwood Machinery, we offer several hydraulic pipe benders customized to different industrial needs. Here’s why you should choose us:

1. Extensive Product Range: From manual to fully automated systems, we have the right hydraulic pipe bender for every job.

2. Quality and Reliability: We source our products from reputable manufacturers to ensure top quality and dependability.

3. Expertise and Support: Our knowledgeable team is always ready to provide technical support and advice to help you choose and maintain the right equipment.

4. Competitive Pricing: We offer great prices without sacrificing quality, ensuring you get the best value for your money.

5. Comprehensive After-Sales Service: Our commitment to customer satisfaction doesn’t end with your purchase; we offer full after-sales service and support.

Success Stories from Our Customers

Our clients across the UAE have experienced great improvements with Rockwood Machinery’s hydraulic pipe benders in the UAE. For example, a top construction company saw a 30% boost in productivity and much less material waste. An automotive workshop appreciated how easy and precise our equipment is, helping them finish custom projects more quickly.

Conclusion

In the busy world of metalworking, having the right tools is very important. Rockwood Machinery’s hydraulic pipe benders offer the precision, flexibility, and efficiency you need for any bending job. Whether you’re involved in construction, automotive, shipbuilding, or manufacturing, our top-quality hydraulic pipe benders are perfect for steel fabrication machines in the UAE. They will meet and exceed your needs, ensuring high performance and reliable results.

[ceslmachine]

Transforming raw material into masterpieces. Visit us at CES to witness the magic of sheet plus tube laser cutting.

https://ceslasermachine.com/sheet-plus-tube-pipe-laser-cutting-machine/

[mahirapoly]

Top 10 Benefits of Investing in an Automatic PP-HDPE Cheese Pipe Cleaning Machine

Keeping your cheese production lines running smoothly is crucial for efficiency and product quality. Manual cleaning of cheese pipes can be time-consuming, labor-intensive, and potentially introduce inconsistencies. An automatic PP-HDPE cheese pipe cleaning machine offers a solution to these challenges. Here are the top 10 benefits of investing in one:

Increased Efficiency and Throughput: Automatic machines can clean pipes several times faster than manual methods. This frees up your workforce for other tasks and significantly boosts overall production output. Imagine the additional cheese you could be producing while your pipes are being cleaned automatically!

Reduced Labor Costs: By automating the pipe cleaning process, you can significantly reduce the number of employees needed for this task. This translates to substantial cost savings in the long run, allowing you to invest those resources back into your business or offer more competitive pricing.

Enhanced Hygiene and Food Safety: Automatic machines provide a more consistent and thorough cleaning process compared to manual methods. This minimizes the risk of cheese contamination by bacteria or other pathogens, ensuring you meet the highest hygiene standards and deliver a safe product to your customers.

Reduced Downtime for Faster Production Cycles: Faster cleaning times lead to less downtime between production runs. This keeps your cheese-making process running smoothly, allowing you to maximize production time and meet customer demands efficiently.

Improved Product Quality from Consistent Cleaning: Consistent and thorough cleaning with an automatic machine helps prevent cheese residue build-up inside the pipes. This, in turn, leads to a better quality final product with consistent taste and texture. Your customers will appreciate the difference!

Minimized Waste for Environmental and Cost Benefits: Automatic machines can efficiently remove debris from cheese pipes without damaging them. This reduces overall waste, minimizing your environmental footprint and lowering disposal costs.

Improved Worker Safety: Automating the cleaning process removes workers from the potential hazards associated with manual cleaning. This includes exposure to harsh cleaning chemicals or repetitive strain injuries that can occur from scrubbing pipes. Invest in the well-being of your employees while achieving better cleaning results.

Increased Scalability for Future Growth: Automatic machines are designed to handle larger volumes of cheese pipes efficiently. This makes it easier to scale up your production capacity in the future without needing to overhaul your cleaning process.  Be prepared to meet growing demand without sacrificing hygiene or efficiency.

Lower Long-Term Costs: While there's an initial investment, automatic machines offer significant cost savings over time. Reduced labor costs, minimized waste, and improved efficiency all contribute to a strong return on investment.

Reliable Operation for Consistent Performance: Modern automatic cheese pipe cleaning machines are designed for reliable operation with minimal maintenance requirements. This ensures consistent performance and minimizes disruptions to your production schedule. Focus on what you do best – making delicious cheese – while the machine takes care of the cleaning.

Mahira Polyglobal: Your Trusted Partner in Cheese Pipe Cleaning Solutions

Mahira Polyglobal, a leading manufacturer and worldwide supplier of cheese pipe cleaning machinery, offers high-quality automatic PP-HDPE cheese pipe cleaning machines known for their efficiency, durability, and innovative features.  For more information on how Mahira Polyglobal's machines can revolutionize your cheese production process, visit their website.

[taruu03]

Taruu: Your Source for Reliable Sewer Pipe Cleaning Equipment

The sewer pipe cleaning machine provided by Taruu is a state-of-the-art equipment designed to efficiently and effectively clear blockages and debris from sewer lines. Equipped with powerful hydraulic systems and specialized cleaning tools, this machine can tackle various types of clogs and obstructions, ranging from grease buildup to tree roots.

Designed with user convenience and safety in mind, the Taruu sewer pipe cleaning machine features intuitive controls and robust construction. Its versatile design allows it to navigate through different pipe diameters and configurations with ease, ensuring thorough cleaning throughout the sewer system.

Visit for more info : https://www.taruu.in/sewer-pipe-cleaning-machine.html 

Address : No. 5270 B, GB Road, New Delhi-110006, Delhi, India

Mail : manoj.mpsa@gmail.com

Phone no : 91-98918 83887

[subzerosol]

Flange Tool Kit | Subzero solutions

We Subzero Solutions are Portable pipe beveling machine and Flange Tool Kit manufacturers in Mumbai. This Machine is suitable for workshop and on-site application due to its portable design We carry extensive stock of our standard products to ensure we meet our customer's needsin the quickest turnaround time. Our aim is to give complete package for our customers from advising industry- leading solutions to giving customised products for specific applications within the committed time frame. For More Details Visit Our Website https://subzerosolution.com/flange-tools/

[ddejavvu]

hi! so I had an early seasons spencer reid request. it's his first day at the BAU and the reader is so taken by him, she has constant puppy eyes and he mentions about needing a coffee and the reader simply gives him her coffee cup and then morgan and emily are like 'you're whipped'

You've only just sat down at your desk with the heated cup, warmth seeping through the cardboard walls and tingling your palms. Emily, JJ, and Garcia all have matching cups, courtesy of the coffee bar three floors down.

As fate would have it, you're excruciatingly close to taking your first sip of the sugary brew when you hear the new recruit, Spencer Reid, pipe up from his own desk just across from yours.

"Agent Y/L/N," He calls respectfully, and you pause in raising the cup to your lips. There's steam escaping the drinking slot in the lid of the cup, but that's not why your cheeks are flushed.

"Hm?"

"Where'd you get that coffee? I didn't see any in the kitchen. Is there a cafe nearby, or...?"

"There's a coffee bar on the fifth floor," You're internally grateful that you're not stumbling and stuttering over your words like a bashful teen, even if there's butterflies running rampant around your stomach, "But we got the last of this batch, it takes them a while to clean the machine and start brewing more."

His face falls, only slightly, but it's noticeable to you as you study his face with rapt attention. Immediately you feel your stomach plummet, and you ramble to remedy his disappointment, "But- uh, here! You can just- have mine." You stand abruptly, reaching over to place the cup on his desk, "I haven't had any yet. And I probably shouldn't, I, uh, I had some earlier and if I have more I won't sleep tonight."

Spencer blinks bewilderedly at the coffee cup now sitting on his desk, and you notice with a different kind of sinking feeling in your stomach that you've attracted the attention of both Prentiss and Morgan.

"Oh. Thank you," Spencer murmurs, clearly taken aback, but grateful all the same, "Are you sure? I- I can wait, if you want it."

"No, take it," You sit back down, trying desperately to retain some grace despite your rather hasty and forward display, "We'll call it a welcoming present."

His cheeks tinge slightly pink, and his lips flatten into an endearingly awkward grin.

"Thanks," He repeats, reaching for the coffee and surely feeling the same warmth you'd felt, "Is there sugar in here?"

"Lots," You nod, and he raises it eagerly to his lips.

"This is exactly how I make it," He decides after evaluating the sip, and you have to clench your fingers tightly to your palm in order to contain a rather large grin.

Once the conversation dies down between the two of you you turn your head back to your desk, even if you'd rather gaze at the new hire all day. It's with shaking fingers that you begin typing on your keyboard again, but an email notification at the lower right corner of the screen catches your eye.

Sender: SSA Emily Prentiss

Subject: Whipped

You click on it with furrowed brows, the term whipped meaning something grotesque in your line of work. Instead of a case file, however, you find a simple message, 'Next time, why don't you just take a sip and kiss it into his mouth? That might be less obvious.'

[earlysunshines]

chaos and kisses

pham hanni x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: your girlfriend arrives to find your basement flooded, she helps you clean up the mess, but not without checking you out and leaving kisses here and there.

warnings: making out!!! making out... dreamy sigh MAKING OUT!! ; reader has a tattoo ; so fluffy and cute ; mmm nothing else really ; not proofread...

a/n: short n sweet n a lil... freaky (but not really)... finally a fic less than 10k omfg I looovvved writing this and I looovee making out

when you invited hanni over to spend your day off together, she didn’t expect to find you downstairs with water up to your ankles. 

the scene is almost surreal: you, standing in the middle of a flooded room, looking more irritated than surprised. hanni on the steps – safe from the water – mouth agape, taking in the sight of your makeshift dam of towels and the waterlogged furniture. 

“hey babe…” you sigh, looking at her helplessly. “help… please?”

she blinks a few times, processing everything. “what happened? i called you… you didn’t answer…”

"um, i woke up and decided to do some laundry," you explain, gesturing to the water taking up the floor. "then i went back to sleep for a bit, and when i came back… this happened." you throw your hands up in exasperation, pointing out the waterlogged chaos. "fuck."

hanni stands at the entrance, eyes wide as she sees your flooded floor. she blinks a few times, processing the mess, before rolling up her pants and stepping in.

"need some help?" she asks, her tone a mix of amusement and concern.

“please.” you respond, watching her giggle as she ties her hair up.

she follows you toward the laundry room, you’re making exaggerated, grossed-out noises as your socks squish in the water, soaking through your slides. hanni rolls her eyes but can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. she manages to snap a picture of you trudging through the flood, her laughter echoing in your ears.

you glance back and catch her in the act, flipping her off. "really, han? now’s the time for a photoshoot?" you groan, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“adding to my lockscreen rotation.”

you roll your eyes and step further into the room, carefully inspecting the source of the water flooding the basement. peering behind the washing machine, you spot the pipe going into the wall, and water is leaking out. leaning in for a closer look, you’re suddenly met with a burst of water splashing all over your face.

"ugh—" you gasp, closing your eyes and flinching back. "fuck–"

you hear hanni snort behind you, so you turn around with gross, soapy water dripping down your face. you glare at her, feeling frustrated.

hanni can't help but stare at you with a stupid grin on her face. despite the irritation clearly visible in your expression, you look adorable. your hair, clipped back, is now wet at the front, your tank top is splashed with water, plus your shorts are miraculously still dry. hanni loves the sight, reveling in how cute you look even in this messy situation.

she steps over to where you are, you’re looking at the pipe defeatedly, letting the pool of water grow as you do so.

“hey, babe.” hanni says, then kisses your cheek. you turn to look at her with a little pout, which earns a quick kiss on your lips from her. “it’s not the end of the world. i’ll go grab some towels from upstairs and you can grab some duct tape to stop the leaking, let’s just clean up what we can.”

“thank you han.”

“mhm,” she says, then pecks your lips before her hand rubs the soapy water off your cheek. “you look really cute right now.”

you stare at her lips, then pout again. “you always say that.”

"because it's always true," she says, as if stating a known fact, before kissing you once more and trudging out of the room. you can't help but laugh at her expressions, mirroring the ones you made earlier.

–

the water had reached halfway up your calves by the time you finally stopped the leak. it takes nearly two hours for you and hanni to scoop up all the water in the basement and dump it into the shower to drain it out the best you can.

during it all, hanni looks too focused to notice the little splash of water you send her way, which earns you a groan and her cursing at you.

"y/n!"

"we're already wet! it's fine—" you're cut off when hanni kicks her foot up, splashing water onto your shorts. you gasp, scoffing at her and kicking water back. "oh, you’re so—"

you start for her, but end up tripping and falling into the water, landing on your ass with a splash and groaning as the water soaks you through. hanni watches the scene unfold, laughing and practically cackling at you while you use your forearm to wipe water off your face. you groan, looking up at her through your eyelashes, glaring.

“that’s what you get.”

“i hate you.”

“you’re sooo in love with me.”

a small chuckle escapes your lips before you sigh, looking up at her with a desperate expression. “can you at least help me up, baby?” you ask, sitting there helplessly.

your girlfriend giggles once more, then smiles as she says, “fine, fine.” 

hanni steps forward, reaching out her hand to you. as soon as you grip it, you pull her down, making her fall onto you. she lets out a yelp, and water splashes everywhere, soaking her as well. 

“y/n!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of frustration and surprise. “what the hell!”

“now we’re even,” you say, laughing as she sputters, trying to push herself up.

“i hate you,” she mutters, her eyes twinkling despite her annoyance. you’re propped on your elbows, her hands on either side of you, and her legs tangled with yours. as she pulls herself off of you, your faces stay close. she leans in, her nose nearly brushing yours. “you suck.”

“look who’s sooo in love with me.” you tease, grinning up at her. “and you’re sooo adorable when you’re mad,” you add before quickly kissing the tip of her nose.

hanni narrows her eyes playfully, then suddenly presses her lips to yours. the kiss is both tender and heated, the frustration and affection mixing together. you use one hand to cup her cheek and pull her closer to you

correction: it takes nearly three hours to get enough water out of the basement to start cleaning up the floating items and further mess.

when you finally stop bickering (and finally take your lips off each other), you both get to work drying the floor with half the towels from the upstairs closet. hanni scoots around, wiping away the remaining water with a towel under her foot, while you focus on putting the items that had been floating back in their places.

the scene is somehow domestic and ridiculous: hanni gliding around, determined and slightly absurd, and you methodically arranging everything with a focused frown. you share a few laughs despite the chaos, the mess around you feeling a little more manageable with her by your side.

it takes another hour and a half to finish cleaning up the remaining mess, but it’s honestly not the worst considering you’re doing it all with your girlfriend and your mixed playlist together.

hanni finds herself staring at you from time to time, how could she not.

you had been wiping away at a frame with your baby picture picture inside of it, back facing hanni.

your girlfriend stares at you, captivated.

the damp tank top clings to your figure, highlighting the results of time spent working out your back. each flex and movement makes hanni bite her lip, embarrassingly enough. she feels a surge of desire, wanting nothing more than to run her hands over you while kissing you. turning away, she works on drying things faster, motivated by the thought of getting this mess cleaned up quickly so she can have you all to herself.

–

when the two of you finally finish, you stand at the foot of the stairs, admiring the cleaned-up mess – or at least as clean as you could manage. both of you head upstairs soon after because you’re tired of being in the basement.

you groan, leaning against the counter of the kitchen and gulping down a water bottle you found. if you thought all that water couldn’t make you thirsty, you were so wrong.

hanni's thirsty too, but for a very different reason. she’s mesmerized by how the sweat and remnants of the sudden events make you glow, highlighting the curve of your muscles and the small tattoo on your upper waist. the glimpse of your calvin klein boyshorts band peeking out drives her wild too. the exhaustion palpable in you only makes you hotter in hanni’s eyes.

you turn, gulping down water and closing the cap of the bottle in your hand before placing it on the marble surface you lean on. hanni’s looking you up and down, smirking devilishly.

as you look at her, your head tilts. “what?”

“you look so hot right now.”

you snicker, watching her step closer to you. “is that right?” you mutter, placing your hands on the edge of the counter as you lean against it further.

she hums softly, placing her hands on your waist, just below the peek of the calvin klein logo. her fingers toy with the waistband, making your breath hitch. slowly, she slides her hands over your skin and under your tank top, her touch burning your skin.

your abdomen tenses as her fingers trace the ink of the hidden part of your tattoo under your top, sending shivers through you. her head tilts up slightly to meet your gaze, her overgrown bangs still damp and covering her eyes a bit. you gently push them aside, then swiftly shift your hand to cup her cheek.

hanni’s eyes are lidded, fixed on your lips. her hands slide further up under your tank top and make your breath hitch.

“my pretty girl.” she says, voice faint and desperate.

 her fingers graze your ribs before she closes the distance and kisses you. your other hand finds its way to her waist, pulling her closer. you can feel her heartbeat against your chest, rapid and strong. her touch becomes more insistent, her fingers pressing into your skin as if to anchor herself to you. 

the world outside fades away; it’s just the two of you – only the two of you when your lips are connected.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathless. hanni’s eyes are bright, a mix of mischief and desire dancing in them before she starts to pepper kisses on your jawline, and lightly down to your neck.

you sigh, sliding your hands under her top and squeezing her skin softly. 

“h-hanni,” you mumble, feeling and hearing her mumble into your neck in response. “i know you’re eager, but lets clean up first. we’re all murky.”

“you’re still really hot even if you’re murky.” hanni mumbles.

you laugh as she pulls away to look at you closely, then quickly place both hands on her waist and maneuver her against the counter, switching your positions. she gasps in surprise, her eyes widening. you continue, mirroring her earlier actions by kissing along her jawline and down to the soft skin of her neck, nipping lightly with your teeth. when your breath meets her ear, she bites her lip, a shiver running through her.

“you too,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing. “i want to kiss you until your lips are numb, but we should really finish cleaning up and take this to my room.” 

again, you pull away, looking at the flustered, eager expression on her face. 

“fine… can i wear your clothes?” hanni asks, tugging at your waistband.

“of course.” you respond, then chuckle. “but you still have to give me back my t-shirt you took last time.”

“what t-shirt?” hanni says through a grin, making you roll your eyes and kiss her once more.

“you suck.”

“you want me.”

your breath hits her lips as you mutter back, “maybe a little.”

[popquizhot-shot]

Father Mine- 2. Miguel O’Hara x teen!spider!reader

Just note- this and father mine aren’t in the canon of Miguel’s and mini Miguel’s story line<3 also this is absolute crap and I’m so sorry it has a lot more plot and less of Miguel and mini Miguel interaction. Though whatever they do have is pain. (ALSO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE I LOVE ALL OF YOU) please comment and reblog if you liked it :DD

Warnings: angst. FATHER MINE PART 1 Part 3

“Where is she?” He asks Jess.

“She didn’t follow.” Is what the woman replies and that’s that.

A spark of worry shoots through him but he ignores it. Now is not the time to worry about anything but the anomaly.

He scans his surroundings and tries to look for wherever the kid may be.

A part of his mind still screams he’s just a kid.

That weak thinking, letting things slide mindset was ahat got Gabriella killed. It was what killed an entire universe. He couldn’t let more people be killed for the sake of the life of one man.

“Split up. Look for him.” He orders Ben and Jess and they leave promptly.

Not now. Not now. He’d check up on you after.

——————

“Miles!” You whisper-shout at the boy.

He almost shouts but you cover his mouth with your hand, “you’re in the wrong universe, you’re on earth-42.” His eyes widen, “I’m here to help you.”

“Why should I trust you?” His eyes narrow at you.

“I don’t know.” You look down, “But I’m asking you to trust me anyways.”

After a beat of silence he talks, “how did you know I was in the wrong universe?”

“You were bit by a spider that was from here. It’s venom altered your dna to this universe. And the go home machine scanned your dna, which was this universes and sent you here, I’m running out of breath and I can hear your mom from this univers walking here so let’s please just go.” You pull him out through the window just as the door opens and Rio steps in.

You and Miles drop down into an abandoned alleyway, and you hide a wince because of the pain in your leg. He turns invisible and you open a portal. Just as he walks through, Ben comes into view and sees you.

“Mini Miguel! You’re here! You know your dad was pretty worried you didn’t show! I’ll tell him you’re here wait- I” you web his mouth and eyes and as he flails about you launch yourself upwards and unhook his watch.

“I’m sorry, Ben.” You apologise to his mumbling form as his hands thrash around to remove the webs.

You jump into the portal and it closes.

“We’re in Miguel’s APARTMENT?” Miles’s all but shrieks and you wince.

“Jeez, bro. Don’t worry. He won’t look here.” You hand him a bottle of water from the minibar.

He drinks it all in one go and breathes deeply. You calm him down, “this is just for a few hours. Then I’ll shift you to your own universe.”

“Why not now?” He asks.

“You need to eat, and you’ll be fine. No one’s going to be named Captain tonight right? You can’t help anyone if you’re half dead.”

He clenches his jaw and sits down as you go to the kitchen and get a leftover pizza from the fridge. It was from that family night you had with Miguel and Lyla the day before Miles’s arrival.

You head to the living room after heating his food and his eyes are transfixed on a photo frame in his hand.

It’s a photo of you and him that Lyla had managed to sneak and Jess had printed for your birthday.

“He seems nice. When he’s not trying to kill me.” The boy scoffs.

You don’t answer, just handing him his food.

He eats in silence and you take the time to clean the house. Even if you did hate him just a bit, it didn’t mean he deserved to live in a messy house because he was too busy working.

“You really love him, huh?” Miles piped up and you look up from fluffing a cushion.

“Hmm.” You hum in response, “I don’t know.”

“If you didn’t you wouldn’t be here fluffing up his cushions and cleaning his home. Or should I say your home as well.” He raises an eyebrow.

You throw the cushion, “his home. Come on, we need to get to his office so I know what universe you’re from.”

He follows you to the window and has to swallow a gasp when you walk through it and float like you’re walking on air.

You chuckle, “it’s an illusion, sort of like that Indiana Jones movie.”

“The thing with the grail?” His voice is shaky as his foot comes to rest onto the platform connecting the window to the opposite balcony.

“Yeah, I got it made to fuck with Miguel.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I bet he would have freaked out?”

“You have no idea.” You smile a little at the memory as you jump of the platform and land lightly on the terrace.

Every few minutes you usher Miles into the few dark alleyways in the futuristic city of Nueva York to use the hidden pathways that are used by the underground thug gangs that you had managed to sniff out.

It takes about half an hour to reach the tower, and Miles turns invisible, “you couldn’t have done that before?” You raise an eyebrow.

He just looks sheepish and you try not to roll your eyes, “come on.”

He follows you through the entire area, sees them all wave and smile at you as you walk to where spider-byte may be.

——-

“Ben, come in.” Miguel speaks, “Ben!”

With a groan, he phones Lyla. She picks up immediately and her voice is frantic, “you need to get back. Now.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s Miles.” She informs him, “mini you is with him.”

His eyes widen under the mask and without a word he opens a portal to go home, “Jess. We’re going back to base.”

————————

“1610. Earth 1610.” You recite as you make a portal.

As soon as it opens, the door to the room swings open.

It’s a sort of déjà vu if you think about it.

The same room, the same scenario. But this time it’s you he’s after.

Your blood runs cold and you push Miles inside, “save your dad.” Are the last words you say to him as the portal closes in time just as Miguel pounces through air.

He looks at you and you freeze. His eyes are red and his fangs are out.

As he stands to his feet, your breathing becomes uneven.

Fuck you’re panicking. And it’s weird, because you’ve faced evil villains before. You’ve fought people that make Miguel look like a shortie.

So.. why the fuck are you so scared? Or were you always just a coward?

“You’re hurt.” He says in an eerily calm voice.

“Why-why do you care?” You huff out and his eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?” He raises his hand and you flinch. You notice the way his eyes widen and the hurt that floods the pools of his eyes.

He takes another step forward and you back away, “Stay the fuck away from me.” Your hand shoots forward. Only widening the chasm between the both of you.

“What. Happened? Who hurt you? Was it Miles? Did he force you to help him?” He snarls.

You stare at him dumbfounded, “Who hurt me? Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

You scoff, “I helped him of my own accord.”

It’s then that he takes a deep breath and a step back.

“That’s right. I helped him get away!”

“….how could you do this to us? To me?” He points to himself.

“What are you going to do now? Try and kill me like you did him?”

“I would never. I am your father-”

“You are a selfish monster.” You say and his breath hitches. The look on his face breaks your own heart and all you want to do is hug him.

“Don’t say that.” He points at you, “you don’t mean it.”

“I meant every damn word.” You scowl and reply, “you are not my father. I am not your daughter.”

He schools the hurt on his face, “So be it.” He webs your watch and breaks it into tiny pieces in a matter of moments, “it’s cute that you thought you could one up me. Really.” He chuckles, “You are relieved of your duties effective immediately. You will never be allowed into Earth-928 or any other dimension hereafter.”

He webs you closer to him as he opens a portal into some obscure universe, one you’ve never heard of, and just before he pushes you in, you glimpse the tears in his eyes, your own running down your cheek as you scream profanities at him.

The last thing you see is his face before you’re thrown into complete darkness.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week. #6

Feb 16-23 2024

The EPA announced 5.8 billion dollars in funding upgrade America's water systems. 2.6 billion will go to wastewater and stormwater infrastructure, while the remaining $3.2 billion will go to drinking water infrastructure. $1 billion will go toward the first major effort to remove PFASs, forever chemicals, from American drinking water. The Administration all reiterated its plans to remove all lead pipes from America's drinking water systems, its spent 6 billion on lead pipe replacement so far.

The Department of Education announced the cancellation of $1.2 billion in student loan debt reliving 153,000 borrowers. This is the first debt cancellation through the Saving on a Valuable Education (SAVE) Plan, which erases federal student loan balances for those who originally borrowed $12,000 or less and have been making payments for at least 10 years. Since the Biden Administration's more wide ranging student loan cancellation plan was struck down by the Supreme Court in 2023 the Administration has used a patchwork of different plans and authorities to cancel $138 billion in student debt and relieve nearly 4 million borrowers, so far.

First Lady Jill Biden announced $100 million in federal funding for women’s health research. This is part of the White House Initiative on Women’s Health Research the First Lady launched last year. The First Lady outlined ways women get worse treatment outcomes because common health problems like heart attacks and cancer are often less understood in female patients.

The Biden Administration announced 500 new sanctions against Russian targets in response to the murder of Russian dissident Alexei Navalny. The sanctions will target people involved in Navalny's imprisonment as well as sanctions evaders. President Biden met with Navalny's widow Yulia and their daughter Dasha in San Francisco

The White House and Department of Agriculture announced $700 Million in new investments to benefit people in rural America. The projects will help up to a million people living in 45 states, Puerto Rico, and the Northern Mariana Islands. It includes $51.7 million to expand access to high-speed internet, and $644.2 million to help 158 rural cooperatives and utilities provide clean drinking water and sanitary wastewater systems for 578,000 people in rural areas.

The Department of Commerce signed a deal to provide $1.5 billion in upgrades and expand chip factories in New York and Vermont to boost American semiconductor manufacturing. This is the biggest investment so far under the 2022 CHIPS and Science Act

the Department of Transportation announced $1.25 billion in  funding for local projects that improve roadway safety. This is part of the administration's Safe Streets and Roads for All (SS4A) program launched in 2022. So far SS4A has spent 1.7 billion dollars in 1,000 communities impacting 70% of America's population.

The EPA announced $19 million to help New Jersey buy electric school buses. Together with New Jersey's own $45 million dollar investment the state hopes to replace all its diesel buses over the next three years. The Biden Administration's investment will help electrify 5 school districts in the state. This is part of the The Clean School Bus Program which so far has replaced 2,366 buses at 372 school districts since it was enacted in 2022.

Bonus: NASA in partnership with Intuitive Machines landed a space craft, named Odysseus, on the moon, representing the first time in 50 years America has gone to the moon. NASA is preparing for astronauts to return to the moon by the end of the decade as part of the Artemis program. All under the leadership of NASA Administrator, former Democratic Senator and astronaut Bill Nelson.

[rockwood790]

Hydraulic Press Brakes: Essential Bending Machines in the UAE

Hydraulic press brakes in UAE has a crucial role for shaping metal sheets in manufacturing and sheet metal fabrication industries. These adaptable machines are widely used in various sectors for their ability to bend metal into desired shapes and angles. Let's discuss about the significance of hydraulic press brakes and their applications in the UAE.

Understanding Hydraulic Press Brakes

Hydraulic press brakes are the machines used to bend sheet metal and plates by applying a controlled force with the help of hydraulic systems. They consist of a hydraulic ram that exerts pressure on a punch to deform the material against a die, resulting in accurate bends. Hydraulic press brakes offer superior control over bending angles, allowing for complex and precise forming operations.

Applications in the UAE

Metal Fabrication: Hydraulic press brakes are used in different industries like construction, aerospace, and shipbuilding. Commonly produced parts include brackets, panels, frames, and enclosures.

Construction and Infrastructure: hydraulic press brakes are used to fabricate structural components such as beams, columns, and supports with precise bending angles. These components are used in building construction, bridges, and infrastructure projects throughout the UAE.

Automotive Manufacturing: Hydraulic press brakes are used in bending sheet metal parts used in vehicle such as chassis, body panels, and interior components. They ensure consistent bending quality and dimensional accuracy required in automotive assembly.

Industrial Equipment: Manufacturers of industrial equipment and machinery in the UAE rely on hydraulic press brakes to produce components such as conveyor systems, machine frames, enclosures, and structural elements. These machines enable customization and adaptation of parts to specific operational requirements.

Advantages of Hydraulic Press Brakes

Precision Bending: Hydraulic press brakes offer precise control over bending angles and depths, resulting in accurate component dimensions.

Versatility: They can bend a wide range of materials, like stainless steel, aluminum, and mild steel, making them suitable for different applications.

Efficiency and Productivity: Hydraulic press brakes improve production efficiency by reducing setup times and cycle times, resulting in higher output rates.

Cost-Effectiveness: Despite initial investment costs, hydraulic press brakes contribute to long-term cost savings through enhanced productivity and reduced material waste.

Choosing Hydraulic Press Brakes in the UAE

When selecting hydraulic press brakes in the UAE, consider factors such as:

Bending Capacity: Choose a machine with the appropriate tonnage and bending length to accommodate your production needs.

Control System: Evaluate the control system, including CNC capabilities and software features, to optimize bending precision and efficiency.

Build Quality: Select machines from reputable manufacturers known for durability, reliability, and after-sales support.

Safety Features: Ensure that hydraulic press brakes comply with safety standards and incorporate features to protect operators during operation.

Conclusion

Hydraulic press brakes are indispensable tools in the metalworking industry of the UAE, offering precision, versatility, and efficiency in bending operations. By using the capabilities of hydraulic press brakes, manufacturers and fabricators in the UAE can achieve high quality, productivity, and competitiveness in meeting market demands for precision-formed metal components. The adoption of advanced bending technologies contributes to the growth and innovation of the manufacturing sector in the dynamic landscape of the UAE.

[luveline]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐚 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

8k words, a slightly bloody coworkers to lovers, fem!reader, nosebleeds, reader works in the BAU but isn't a profiler, jack is a sweetheart, hotch has game fr, fluff + hurt/comfort

༺༻

You like your desk job. You handle paperwork primarily, and act as a sort of assistant unofficially. Anything to be useful — you get paid either way. It's why you don't mind trying to be helpful in the office and take on some of the office administrator's overflow. 

Today, that's fixing the coffee machines. The office can function on one at a stretch but both being broken means an entire roster of grumpy agents and all of them are on your back. And when they have to see all the stuff they say? You figure fixing the coffee machines is the least you can do. 

You're ignoring the weight of their waiting, elbow deep in one of the machines. The instruction manual had mentioned a little spout that can get clogged with detriment. Hopefully, you can clean it out and get at least one machine working by midday. 

"Oh no," you murmur. 

The piece you're trying to unscrew is tightly wound, too tight for your fingers to work behind. You're probably going to need a small tool, like an allen key. 

"No luck?" Agent Prentiss asks, sounding defeated. 

You look up from the machine and smile quickly. "I need smaller hands," you joke, letting the machine sit back on the counter and pulling out your aching fingers. "I'll have one working by the end of the day, Agent Prentiss. Scout's honour." 

She shrugs and waves a hand at you. "It's alright. What's one day without caffeine?" 

You laugh at her good-natured sarcasm and go back to your machine. When you're certain you can't jimmy it you turn your attention to the second machine and run through the steps. You're too determined to lose. Your coworkers depend on you. 

You start by changing the filter and are unsurprised when that doesn't work. You check the button connectivity, the fuse, and then you turn again to that small piece that needs to be washed. 

"Yes," you cheer under your breath, pulling the piece from its home to assess the problem. 

It's a tiny pipe with a piece of mesh that acts as a sieve to trap dust. Maybe. Whatever it is, it's full of caramelised coffee grounds. You move to the sink basin and turn on the faucet to clean it, washing with anticipation as the burned coffee trickles down the drain. 

You're pleased enough to feel a mild adrenaline rush, and your excitement leads to butter fingers: you drop the prized piece of pipe and it rolls out of sight.

This is not a good time for business casual. 

You tug your too-tight pants from your thighs and bend down in search. When it doesn't reveal itself you get on your knees and run your hands along the seams of the kitchen cabinets, face lowered. 

"Is everything okay?" 

You wince at a very familiar, very unfortunately timed voice. 

"Yes, sir, everything is perfect," you say, looking up to meet the eye of your boss' boss, unit chief SSA Aaron Hotchner. "I've misplaced a piece but I'll have the coffee machine working again in no time. I'm sorry." 

He raises his eyebrows at you. It's a very nice expression on him, his eyes light with an emotion you don't often see on him. "Is fixing the coffee machine in your job description?" he asks. 

You think it might be a polite reprimand. You won't insult him by insisting you're always on time with your actual delegated workload because he and your supervisor have to send you emails asking for missing paperwork all the time, so you try to disarm him. 

You beam. 

You're not a supermodel but everybody is pretty when they smile. "Sir, I thought I could sacrifice my lunch break for the good of the Bureau." 

"Yes, well." He looks like he wants to smile back. You might be seeing what you want to see, though. "That won't be necessary. Take your time." 

Your smile falters as you feel a telling heat at the back of your nose. "Thank you," you say quickly, covering your nostril with the pad of your index finger. 

You're hoping your swift words will send him on his way, but he's literally the lead profiler of the BAU. He knows suspicious activity when he sees it.  

"Is something wrong?" 

Blood starts to trickle down your palm. You slide your hand up to cover your nose the best that you can. The alarm on his face when he spots the blood sliding down your bare forearm can't be understated. 

"It's just a nosebleed," you placate, sounding stuffed up. 

He's a quick thinker, tearing a wad of paper towel off of the dispenser above the microwave and offering it to you.

If you weren't so distracted by your current predicament you'd say thank you. 

He turns back to the paper towels and tears off another wad. To your horror, Hotch bends down right there in the kitchenette and waits for you to open your palm, feeding the towels into your spare hand. 

"Should you tilt your head back?" 

"I think that's a myth," you say. 

Your skin starts to scrawl with embarrassment, the itchy, awful feeling of being pinned by his eyes. 

"How long do they usually last?" 

"Not very long, sir. I'm sure you're busy." 

He tilts his head slightly to one side as if conceding your point. "Let me help you up," he commands. 

You can't make yourself reject his help. Honestly, it's nice to have somebody care even if the nosebleed is purely superficial. His fingers curl around the crook of your elbow and he helps you onto your feet just in time for Agent Prentiss to return.

"Hotch, what did you do?" she asks, bewildered. 

You try not to laugh too much, worried you'll force another burst of blood. 

—

Confidential information. You hear it, you ignore it. Harder to ignore the whiteboards in the conference room that are currently choc-a-block with prints of crime scene photos. 

You don't mean to gawk at them. It's severely unprofessional and you shouldn't really be in here to begin with. The electronic screen is off, as are the monitors, so you know the room isn't in use. 

That could change any second, and it does. 

You hide your clammy palms behind your back at the sound of footsteps and try not to rush obviously toward the mug you'd come in here to collect. 

The door creaks open as you're leaning over the table. 

"I'm sorry," you say without looking. 

"You don't have to clean up after anyone." 

"Actually," you say quietly, abashed at having been caught, "this is my mug." 

You turn to face him. 

Agent Hotchner is tall and handsome. These are two undeniable facts and yet every time you see him it feels like a surprise. It might have something to do with how composed he is, how deliberate his movements are, or it might just be 'cause you have a crush on him. 

It's anybody's guess.

"I can make Reid wash it," he says. 

You're so whipped that your chest confuses his offer for something much worse. Like, he's on your side.

"That's okay, I don't wanna punish him for my own fussiness." You cover the mugs printed sides subtly, or as subtly as you're able. 

"What's special?" 

You smile at him, lips pressed together tight and eyes squinting slightly. You know what he's getting at but you ask anyways, stalling now he's caught you. "About what?" 

"About the mug." 

You peer behind him. 

"You can't tell anyone," you murmur, rounding the table to stand by his side with your shoulders to the door. "I'm not sure anybody knows it's mine." 

The mug is a corn-husk yellow and printed with a scene from a vintage Peanuts comic, dark-haired Lucy standing behind her lemonade stand that boasts 'Psychiatric Help 5¢'. Charlie Brown sits in front of it looking morose. 

It's hard to describe why you like it so much. 

"I see," Agent Hotchner says. 

It's become something of an office joke, offering each other five cents on bad days, calling someone Charlie Brown when they look lost. You doubt very much that anyone is making fun of you, you're just hiding that it's your mug because that's part of the fun. The mystery of the Peanuts mug. 

"I can't drink out of anything else," you confide, turning your face to his. 

He's definitely smiling this time. "Why would you?" 

You nod in genuine delight. "Exactly! Vintage Peanuts, and I searched so much for this because they used to use lead in glassware paint, and-" 

The nosebleed comes on suddenly. There's a drop of blood running down your lips before you've even realised. Agent Hotchner's eyes follow it all the way down. 

"Oh, no," you say, blood dripping to the hill of your chin. 

You use the back of the hand that's holding the mug to catch what's rolling down your neck and the other to pinch your nose closed, bending forward on instinct to hide your face. You're seasoned in nosebleeds. You know how you look — scary. Ridiculous. 

"Here," Agent Hotchner says. 

His hand comes into your eyeline, offering a dark square of fabric. You cringe at the idea of marring his likely expensive handkerchief but you can't not accept, pressing it haphazard to your bloody nose. 

"What were you saying about lead?" 

You're so frazzled about the blood you don't realise he's made a joke until it's too late to laugh.

"Do you know what causes them?" he asks. 

"I'm not really sure, sir. I used to get them all the time as a kid, um…" You pull the handkerchief away from your nose to check if it's still bleeding. When it doesn't continue, you say, "They're pretty harmless. It's done already." 

"If you need time off for a check-up, I'm sure the office administrator can find a sick day for you." 

You smile at him, and then remember the blood and grimace. I must look like Carrie right now, you think morosely. 

"That won't be necessary, sir, thank you. It's apparently the dry air." You're starting to feel more and more warm under his serious gaze. There's a startling amount of concern there. "I'm gonna go clean up now. Excuse me," you say, face glowing with heat. 

"Of course."

You cover your bloody face with the back of your hand, his handkerchief held in red-stained fingers. You pass Agent Prentiss on the stairs, hurrying past her with an I'm okay smile. 

"Hotch, again?" you hear Agent Prentiss ask incredulously. "Where do you get off?"

—

You can't return Hotch's handkerchief, it's a biohazard, but the fabric had felt so soft and the monogram in the corner had cued you in on how expensive it must have been. Your guilt manifests itself into three new handkerchiefs with the embroidered A.H. They aren't half as nice as the one he'd let you ruin. You leave them on his desk — or rather, you get Dr. Reid to leave them on his desk, as walking into his office doesn't feel like something you're allowed to do — and try to forget about them. 

For a week, you do. Agent Hotchner doesn't visit his office, Agent Jareau apprehends him on his way in that morning and the profiling team gather around their round table, and you don't see any of them for four days. The Friday they return, you're already on your way home. 

That's why his actions the following Monday shock you. 

It's unusual that he walks anywhere that isn't a straight shot to his desk. You're doing paperwork for once in your life, sitting awkwardly with your foot hooked under your thigh and a pair of wired earphones in. It's not technically allowed but he really doesn't venture over to you often. You've become complicit in your unsupervised nirvana of a desk job. 

You snatch your earphone out and struggle into a normal position. "Agent Hotchner," you say, wondering if you should call him Special Supervisory, or maybe something cooler, like your Highness. Your grace. He's intimidating in his accomplishments at the FBI, and he's super handsome. 

"Can I see you in my office? Ten minutes." 

You nod brainlessly. 

Your desk buddy doesn't wait long after he's left to investigate. 

"What did you do?" they ask from across the short partition. 

"I really don't know," you say, though you have your suspicions. 

"Were you reading on your computer again? I told you, read under the desk like a normal person." 

"No, I learned my lesson with that one when Agent Morgan started reciting Pride and Prejudice from over my shoulder." 

You check your face in a compact before you report to Agent Hotchner's office. Your heart beats in your throat as you knock his open door. 

"Come in," he says without looking up. 

You take a cautious step. 

He finishes off quickly and lifts his chin. His eyes are dark in the early morning light, his hair in mild disarray from the wind and drizzle. 

"Come in," he says again. 

You wish there was a word that could describe his voice accurately. He talks in the peaceable kind of cadence that comes with hushed tones without truly being hushed. 

"Sir…" You bite the bullet. "If this is about the macadamia cookies, I promise I'll replace them. I didn't actually eat any of them. They kind of fell out of the cabinet and exploded, it was a freak accident." 

He holds up his hand. "Thank you. For the handkerchiefs. They were unnecessary." 

He says 'unnecessary' with a smile. 

"Actually, sir, I think they were entirely necessary." You just disagreed with your boss. "Sir. I couldn't return the first, I ruined it and I- I didn't think you'd want it even if I got it dry cleaned." 

He raises his eyebrows. "It was unnecessary," he repeats, the word drawn out carefully. "But, I appreciate the gesture. Thank you." 

Two thank you's. You stop while you're ahead. "You're more than welcome, Agent Hotchner, sir." 

You share an amicable glance and turn to leave. 

"L/N?" 

You stutter to a halt. "Sir?" 

"Hotch is fine." 

You try not to swallow your own tongue. "Hotch," you say, and then worry that's something people only do in movies. 

A few days later, your humming along to your earphones and wading through the chaos of the bullpen feeling pretty happy. The office has been busy but not in the scary, suffocating way, and you're happy to be here. The BAU can be hard (and that's as someone who isn't on the front line). Times like this are cherished. 

You pause a foot from your desk, eyes creasing into a suspicious squint. 

There's a small box on your desk. 

"What is that?" you ask your desk buddy. 

"What?" they ask.

"That. There's a thing on my desk." 

"Nothing to do with me." 

"Think I should call the bomb squad?" 

"I'm sure you'll be alright. Maybe read the note before you raise the alarm." 

"There's a note?" you mumble, caution swiftly overrun by a burning curiosity. 

You'd be sincerely worried about a bomb, only this is the FBI. If a bomb got this far into the building half the people in it would lose their jobs. You kick your bag under the desk and drop your ipod onto the desk, tinny music blaring from your earphones. 

"What are you?" you ask under your breath. 

The box is wrapped in crepe paper and a yellow sticky note has been attached to the top. 

Rest assured, made without lead. 

That only confuses you more. You're hesitance has your desk mate sitting up in their chair. "Wait," they say, peering over the glass partition, "should I raise the alarm?" 

You slide a trim fingernail under a neat stripe of tape. "No, I think we're good," you mumble. 

And lo and behold, a mug is homed inside. A Peanuts mug no less; the mug has been printed with a Peanuts comic panel. Charlie Brown lays on the floor in a straight plank, and standing overy him is his friend Linus, who says, "I have been asked to tell you that your cries of anguish are keeping the whole neighbourhood awake!" 

You laugh loud and instinctively, shrill enough to attract the attention of half the office. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you slouch down as low as possible in your desk chair. Heat pools in your cheeks. 

"What is it?" your desk mate asks. 

"A present." 

And hence your new favourite mug is brought into life. You write your name on the bottom with black sharpie and continue to deny all knowledge of the first, which you retire to the drawer of your desk. 

For a while your nosebleeds go away. You know exactly who left the mug on your desk, and you remember the joke he'd made. Maybe Hotch had been on to something, and you'd inadvertently poisoned yourself.

You smile practically every time you see your new mug, and you're unsurprised when others appreciate its humour. 

You're not sure how to explain it to an eight year old, though. 

You're slumped over, nose to the desk and hand working diligently across your notes. Having a crush on your boss makes doing your work easier because you're constantly trying to impress him — an impossible task, but trying all the same. Your earphones bump a soft love song, something sweet to cut through the unhappy details of the case file you're working on. 

"What are you listening to?" a small voice asks. 

You drag your gaze up slowly and find Jack Hotchner standing beside your desk. You've seen him in person a few times, and once as Hotch's phone wallpaper, but he grows so much between visits you almost don't recognise him. 

"I'm sorry," you say, pulling your earphone out, "what did you say?" 

"What song are you listening to?" he asks, hands creeping up over the lip of your desk. 

You sit up and smile at him. You can't say he looks like Hotch, though maybe you can see it in his tiny grin, that hint of cheekiness. "I'm listening to a song called At Last. It's a love song. Do you… want to listen?" you offer quietly. 

He nods. 

You push your chair away from your desk and turn down the ipod's volume so it doesn't damage his hearing. "Here," you say, offering one of your earbuds. "Don't push it in, okay? I don't want it to hurt your ears." 

Jack takes the proffered earbud but doesn't seem super interested. "Do you have The Beatles?" he asks. 

"The Beatles! Is that what you and your dad listen to?" 

He nods, pleased, and you nod yourself, flicking through your songs in search of what he wants. 

"I have Here Comes the Sun. Do you like that one?" 

He beams. "Yes! Me and dad sing that one in the car." 

That's a really nice image, Hotch and Jack belting happy lyrics together in the busy mornings. It's also odd. Hotch singing isn't an image you can say you've ever thought of before. 

"I love this one," you tell him, letting your elbows dig into your thighs so the two of you are eye level with one another. 

"Me too." 

You share the earbuds, Jack combing your desk for something interesting no doubt. You cover a case detail that involves some gory images and almost knock over your mug in your haste. 

"What does that say?" he asks, pointing. 

Jack looks between you and the mug for answers. 

You lick your lips. "Uh, do you want me to read it to you?" 

He thinks about it. "Can I try?" 

"Of course you can." 

You clear a path for the mug and place it in front of him. 

"I have been asked to tell you," he begins confidently, "that your cries of an-" He frowns. "Anguish are keeping the whole ne… I don't know that." 

"I'm sure you do, it just looks weird. Neighbourhood." 

"Neighbourhood," he repeats. "Keeping the whole neighbourhood awake." He huffs a boyish, gentle laugh that makes your heart spin. 

"Good job, buddy." 

He melts under your praise. He's a cute kid, and his hair shines golden under the office lighting. It flops to one side as he tilts his head. "What's 'anguish'?" 

"Anguish. Uhm, it's like sadness." 

"Oh." He takes this in. "Do you have Let It Be?" 

You eventually give up your chair and let Jack sit with your ipod in his lap, playing through all The Beatles songs that you have. Nobody seems to be watching you and Hotch has yet to come out of his office and tell you off for supplying his son with technology, so you work around him, leaning over the back of the chair to fill in what's missing from your reports. 

Jack leans back in his chair, his adorable singing coming to a stop. "Do you have movies on the computer?" 

Yes, but should my boss' son know that? "It's for work," you say regretfully. 

"Not even FernGully?"

"I'm sorry." 

He shakes his head. "It's okay, it's not your fault."

"Do you like to draw? I don't have many colours, but we can play a game." 

He smiles for a moment, then hesitation crawls over his features. "Dad says not to disturb anyone." 

"I'm on my lunch break," you assure him. You hadn't been, but you don't mind taking it now. "Are you hungry? I have oranges." 

You and Jack end up sitting under your desk. You really don't mean to end up like that; you sit on your knees because your back has started to ache and Jack wants to sit with you. You can't say no to him. (You could, you just don't want to.)

"What did she say after that?" you ask, fingers digging into two orange segments to pull them apart. You shave off all of the strands of white pith before you pass it to Jack, who says thank you every time. 

"She said to ask Stacy who said to ask Morgan P who said to ask Joan. And Joan said she didn't wanna know, but then she changed her mind after I told her abd she said to ask Cooper." 

"What did Cooper say?" 

"Cooper says he doesn't think he knows where it is." 

You nod, chewing your own orange slice slovenly. "Well, what did your dad say?" 

"I haven't told dad." 

You lift your head from the paper where Jack has drawn an impressive house with five windows. "You haven't told your dad?" 

"He worries about everything." 

"That's his job, Jack. He has to worry about you." 

"He worries about everybody." 

"Some people do." You clean another orange slice for him, and he says thank you again. "You're welcome… Jack, I really think you should tell you dad. It sounds like somebody might have taken your pencil case on purpose. And even if he can't find out who did, he can get you some new pencils for school." 

"I told mom but she hasn't done anything yet." 

Your stomach hurts. 

"Well," you murmur, picking up the green pen, "I'm sure she's trying her best, baby. Can I help colour in these trees?" 

You and Jack fall into a companionable silence, his head bobbing to You Make My Dreams (Come True) the cutest thing you've ever seen. You're not sure how long you sit there, but all good things must come to an end, and your half hour for lunch draws to a close. 

"Hey, Jack?" you say, straightening where you kneel and preparing to stand. "I have some stuff I have to do but you're welcome to stay there." 

Unfortunately, you don't manage to grab his attention. Double unfortunately, somebody else does. 

"Morgan, where's Jack?" 

You peek past your desk chair. A little ways away, Hotch stands looking sick to his stomach, and Agent Morgan looks lost. 

"I didn't have him?" 

"I asked him to sit with you," Hotch says miserably, throwing his gaze over the office. "Jack?" 

Jack hears that loud and clear. Something in his dad's tone must spark some urgency, as he stands in a rush and trips on his own shoelace, smacking the top of his head into your nose. 

You gasp. 

"Ouch," Jack moans. 

Blinking, you shake off your disorientation. "Oh no, are you okay? Here, sweetheart, stand up," you encourage gently, "I'm so sorry, have I hurt your head?" 

Jack's gaze to the floor, he rubs the top of his head with a clumsy hand. "It's okay, Miss Agent, it wasn't you and-" He stares at you. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Dad!" he shouts, backing away from you. "Daddy!" 

Jack runs out of your little alcove and straight into his father's legs, almost bowling him over. Hotch drops two relieved hands down to his small shoulders. "What?" he asks, startled, "What happened?" 

Your nose stings, admittedly, but you've felt worse. It's a light throbbing that distracts you entirely from the blood racing down your lips until you taste it. 

Shit, you think, crawling out from under the desk with one hand, the other clamped over your bleeding nose. Your movement draws Hotch's attention, which in turn gathers at least a quarter of the office's. 

"I didn't mean to," Jack says shrilly. 

"It's okay. It wasn't your fault," you say stuffily, clambering onto shaky legs. 

You turn your head away from the collective gaze of the office and start toward the kitchen and hear at least three different people say, "Wait!" 

You ignore them, using your elbow to help tear off a paper towel from the roll and pushing it without finesse against your face. You squirm under the weight of tens of eyes, more embarrassed than anything else, worse when a warm hand turns you by the shoulder. 

"He really didn't mean to," you say, looking up into Hotch's concerned face. 

"I know." 

"Is he okay?”

"He's not the one with a nosebleed," Hotch says, neither kind nor unkind. 

"I honestly didn't even feel it." 

His fingers curl around your wrist, a slow tightening. "That doesn't surprise me, Y/N." 

You bite your tongue to stop from laughing. “He bumped his head into me." 

"Mm. Just a red mark. It won't even bruise." 

You deflate in relief. "Oh, good." 

Hotch's hands have found their way onto yours. He pulls one from your nose, gaze hardening at the strong river of blood that makes its way into the dip of your cupid's bow. 

"I'm sorry, sir." 

He shakes his head and gathers another wad of tissue paper, a light blue that quickly turns to a wine dark when he presses it to your face. Your heart hammers at his proximity, a thousand and one nerves aflame. 

He's close but not too close, nothing anyone could mistake for something else, and still it feels like a strangely intimate moment. His careful touches. He directs your hand to hold a fresh paper towel to the stream of blood and discards the bloody tissue. You watch him push up his sleeves carefully and give his hands a quick rinse in the sink before he dampens another paper towel. 

It's cool against your neck. 

"I think your shirt is ruined," he says, dabbing at a line of dried blood. 

You shiver at the feeling of cold water dripping under your starched collar.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, moving up to your jaw. 

You don't know how to admit it to him. No, it doesn't hurt. Your hands are really warm, and you're touching me so gently I can barely feel it. 

"A little." 

"Well, Jack is very sorry." 

"He doesn't have to be. He tripped, he…" You fade off as Hotch lays his hand across your cheek, thumb lifting your head slightly so he can clean your chin. 

"How are you faring?" he asks. 

You pull your tissue away and wait for the tell-tale heat of continued blood flow. You're ashamed to admit it but you're almost glad it hasn't stopped, Hotch's hand warm and large and impossibly comforting. Nosebleeds don't stress you out, exactly, but it's not fun to be covered in your own blood at work where everyone can see you. It's nice to have somebody wiping it away. 

"I think I'll live," you say. 

—

Jack sends you an apology card. 

It's hand delivered. Hotch is coming up to the BAU main floor as you're heading out. Like a rock dividing a river, his teammates stream from the elevator around you and Hotch remains inside. 

"I'll catch up," he promises. 

Agent JJ raises her eyebrows. Agent Morgan chuckles. 

You draw in on yourself self-consciously. You don't dress as nicely when he isn't here, and today you're rivalling Dr. Reid for most lovable dork in a pair of brown pants and a big sweater. Teetering the line between professional and unprofessional. 

"Sir," you greet, stepping into the elevator.

He presses the ground floor button. "I have something for you." 

Your eyebrows jump up high. Hotch unzips the main zipper of his duffle back and threads between clothes and papers for a smaller envelope. 

"It's for you." 

You accept, careful not to tear the thin sheet of folded paper as you pull it free. You're thrilled to see a drawing of Charlie Brown on the front, crudely drawn but clearly him with his head-wrapped in bandages. His puppy Snoopy sits beside him with something in his hands. You're not sure what. 

The inside is even sweeter. 

To Y/N

I am sorry if I made your nose angwished. Please feel better soon 

Love, Jack Hotchner. 

"Oh, I love it," you say, rubbing your thumb over a heart drawn in red crayon. "He's really something else, Hotch. He's brilliant, and so smart. I mean, anguished." 

He laughs and it twists your chest in five different directions. "He is." 

"It wasn't his fault though. If my nose weren't so sensitive it really wouldn't have bled at all, I didn't bruise. How is he? Did his head feel better?" 

The doors open. You hesitate, waiting for his reply. 

"Children are made of harder stuff than we are," he says. 

You step backwards out of the elevator. "I felt so bad. I don't suppose he'll want to come and sit with me again." 

"Actually," Hotch says, stepping out of the elevator just as the doors close again, "he thinks you're, uh, in his own words, the 'coolest friend' I've ever had." 

"Friend," you repeat with a smile. 

You've focused on the wrong word, and you worry an awkward silence will ensue, but Hotch steps up to the plate and says, "Yeah. He wouldn't stop telling me about all the cool songs you have on your ipod." 

"Purely for non-working hours." 

"Right." His smile says that he's seen straight through you. 

You're thinking maybe he likes what he sees. 

"This is really amazing," you reaffirm, pressing Jack's card to your chest. 

"He felt guilty." 

"He doesn't have to. Please, tell him I said thank you. And that he's amazing. And that my nose was being dramatic." You smile softly. "He can sit with me whenever he likes." 

"Maybe at the desk, next time, rather than under it."

"Yes, sir." 

You nod at him and he nods back, and you take it as a dismissal, turning on your heel. You've barely walked a metre when he's speaking up.

"Y/N?" 

You look at him from over your shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Are you hungry?" 

You bite your cheek in a hurry to answer, “Yeah. I’m starving.”

Your heart is basically a ticking time bomb in your chest as you and Hotch make your way into the heart of the city. He's a fast walker with long legs and you rush to keep up. That’s totally why you’re breathless. Not because he makes you nervous. 

Hotch is a really surprising guy, though maybe he isn’t surprising at all, you’re simply unversed in how he is outside of work. He talks more and his voice grows louder the further into the city you go, more expressive. 

You’re no profiler, but you’d bet money on Aaron Hotchner being nervous.

Good thing you’re nervous, too. 

“It’s not far now. You like Thai?” he asks. 

“Yeah, of course. Have you ever had Tom Yum?”

“With shrimp?” 

“Exactly.”

“I think I’ve tried it. I lived off of pad Thai when I was a prosecutor,” he says, head tilting back very slightly. His Adam’s apple works under the skin. 

He looks back down, a sheepishness to his voice as he continues, “A lot of late nights.”

“More than now?” you ask skeptically.

His laugh is low and warm. “No. The firm was much closer to the city than the bureau. It’s a long walk.”

“It is,” you say, taking a small step closer to his side to share a secret smile, “but it hasn’t felt that way tonight.”

You try to keep it light. You don’t want to scare him off. 

“No,” he agrees. “It hasn’t.”

You duck into a fragrant Thai restaurant and order fast, the two of you knee to knee in the very corner. A potted plant threatens to blind him every time he moves, and so he endeavours to stay very still. 

The food's a little on the spicy side, and while you're laughing you can't find it in you to feel embarrassed about your runny nose. 

"You didn't like Seinfeld?" you ask, and how you got here's a mystery, but Hotch is extremely passionate about it in the best way. 

"No, of course not. How could you? George was always worrying about something, he was the definition of a self-fulfilling prophecy and he never learned!" he debates, all in a rush, chopsticks moving in emphasis. 

You snort and wipe your nose again. "It was like a relief, though, that it was happening to him and not to you, you know? You might be having a bad day but George Costanza's having a worse one." 

"Oh, honey," he says. 

It takes you a second to realise that he's talking to you. 

"What?" you ask, perplexed. 

Hotch stands up though there's no space for it, chopsticks ditched and hand pushed into the recesses of his pocket swiftly. He pulls out a small packet of tissues, and he lifts his chin, a jut. You lift your own, and he's quick to press the tissue to your nose. 

"It's bleeding?" you ask, startled. 

"Just a little." 

"Sorry." 

"No, no," he says, bent down, a comforting hand around your shoulder, "don't be. It gives me an excuse." 

"To do what?" 

"To be this close." 

Your smile is a slow, molasses thick thing. You can't get a handle on it, and Hotch's answering one is worse. He looks so happy to be here with you, to be wiping your bloody nose. 

It's only a small nose bleed. Hotch pulls the tissue away once or twice to check, wiping at it tenderly and giving you a comforting squeeze each time. The silence feels natural as breathing. 

"There," he says eventually, pulling the bloodied tissue away with a smile. "All done." 

"Thank you, Hotch." 

"I'd think you'd better start calling me Aaron, considering."

"Considering what?"

His hand climbs from your shoulder to the column of your throat. He doesn't make you wait any longer, leaning down with a sure, brave deliberateness. He presses his lips to yours. 

A sweet kiss but too short — barely two seconds and he's taking a half-step away, your lips tingling in want. 

You go to stand and he pushes you down into your seat, not unkindly. "I'm gonna go see if I can get some hot water for you," he says, placating your gutted look with a kiss to your cheek. 

He wipes it thoughtlessly with the pad of his thumb before he goes. 

You're genuinely surprised your nose doesn't start bleeding again at the look he gives you as he turns the corner toward the restaurant's kitchen. Protective, knowing. Your heart races in your chest. 

You probe at your face, elated. Your sensitive nose is good for something after all. 

—

The first time you sleepover with Aaron is an accident. You don't "mess around," as you'd crooned over the phone, joking but with enough salaciousness to make him smile. The gas and hot water had stopped working in your apartment, and though the landlord had promised they'd fix it the very next morning, Aaron couldn't stand to think about you cold and alone when you could easily be warm and with him. 

So here you are. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" you whisper, peering over his shoulder at Jack. 

His son stands in the living room in his pyjamas.  

"It's okay," he says, "I asked him, and you know he's obsessed with you. His one condition is that you watch FernGully." 

"FernGully," you say, enthused. 

"You'll like it." 

You actually really do. Showered and dressed in your own pyjamas, a little shy but not too much to stop from laying against his side on the sofa. He's got one arm around you and one around Jack but he might as well be invisible, the two of you talking in murmurs across his chest. 

"And that's-" 

"Pips," Jack supplies helpfully. 

"Pips," you say, hand spread over Aaron's chest. 

If he didn't know better he'd think this was a slice of heaven. 

"So many people," you whisper in Aaron's ear. 

"More in the second one." 

"There's two?" 

After the movies finished — "It was better than you said, Jack," — and dinner’s been eaten and cleared away, Aaron takes Jack to bed. 

"Do you want a story?" Aaron asks, flitting around the room in a half-hearted attempt to square away the mess. 

"No." 

"You sure?" 

Jack's eyes are heavy, and they have been since dinner. "Yes," he mumbles, face turned into his pillow, hands lax on top of his blanket. 

Aaron smiles and makes his way to Jack's side. He kisses his son's cheek, and strokes the soft hair from his face. He smells like strawberry toothpaste and kids shampoo. 

You're sitting on the end of the bed when he gets to you, face damp with skincare and shining in the light. Aaron kisses you without touching it, worried he'll mess it up. 

“He’s wiped. All the excitement,” he says. 

“Excitement- From me?” you ask. 

“From you.” He puts his hands carefully either side of your neck.

You haven’t been dating very long, and still he knows how easy it is to fluster you. And while he loves to see it, see you giddy and shy, blinking at nothing like there’s a light shining in your eyes. He’d once pressed his thumb with the very faintest of pressure into your windpipe while kissing you, and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for three days. 

He loves that, but he’d prefer if you slept facing him. He wants to see what you look like asleep, as odd as it sounds, he assumes you’ll be beautiful. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were more. 

“Aaron,” you whisper. 

“What?”

“Want me to massage your bad shoulder?”

He wonders, as he thinks is more than allowed, if that’s a seduction trick, but you genuinely just give him a massage, as you have a couple of times in his office after noticing how sore it gets now the weather’s cold. 

You rub into the problem spot carefully, sighing with sympathy. “Oh, baby,” you say, more to yourself than him. 

He fucking loves the way you say it. Aaron’s never been called baby like that — like it’s his name, and it’s sweet to say. Your tired yawns warm the back of his neck as you go. He doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight, and he doesn’t care one bit. He feels pretty lucky just having you near. 

He gets you under the covers before you can fall asleep against his back and makes sure you know how grateful he is for the massage with two kisses. The first is a genuine thank you and the second is to make you laugh, nipping and playful under your jaw. 

Aaron falls asleep thinking about it. 

He wakes to something much less idyllic. 

It’s that strange feeling. Being a dad has honed it, but he’s always had it. It’s one of the things that makes him so good at his job, a prickling at the back of his neck. At first he can’t pin it down. 

Your waist rises under his hand with your breathing. He remembers that you’re there and smiles contentedly, hand sliding behind your back to pull you in. You’d fallen asleep on your back, and you’ve turned toward him in your sleep. 

The metallic stick of blood is sudden and sharp in his nose. He knows what it is before he opens his eyes. The room is dark, lit only by the red light of his alarm clock on the nightstand. His eyes ache with fatigue, and he knows in his gut that it’s too early to get up. 

Blood pools under your nose. Not a lot, nothing to panic over, but blood all the same. He sits up, quickly turns on his bedside lamp, and rouses you as gently as he can, a hand slid under your shoulders to drag you up. 

You blink blearily. “What?” you ask, voice scratchy. 

“Nosebleed,” he informs, pinching your nose before blood can slink down your neck and ruin your pyjama shirt. 

You wince and he hates the way you flinch away from his touch, your clouded confusion. It’s only a second but it doesn’t sit right with him. 

“Sorry, honey.”

You catch hold of his bicep and blink some more. 

“You okay to pinch it yourself? I’ll go grab some tissue paper.”

You nod robotically and replace his light pinching with your own, much less kind. He rushes to grab a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom, and when he returns you've pulled yourself into an alert sitting position, awaiting his return. 

He tears you off a wad of paper. “Here, honey.”

“I think it’s stopped.”

“Yeah? Let me grab you a towel.”

Back to the bathroom. When he returns for the second time you’re holding his given toilet paper against your face. He’s alarmed to find your eyes glassy with tears, shimmering in the bedroom light. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, sitting across from you. 

He’d been right about sleepy you. You look lovely, a little funny with your rumpled pyjamas, and now quite sad because of your tears. “Honey,” he says again, pulling your hand from your face so he can assess the damage, “you’re okay. Is it hurting?”

You’ve told him before the nosebleeds are painless, but maybe they’re a symptom of something, maybe you’re sick—

“I ruined your pillow,” you mutter. 

Ah. That’s much better than your being sick. He can work with that easily. 

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

He takes your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to lift your head. The blood has stopped already; your nosebleeds are often a whirlwind, over by the time you’ve started panicking. 

“I’m sorry.”

He drops your bloodied tissue into his lap and brings the dampened towel to your face. He’s cautious. Your nose gets irritated and any roughness could disrupt the blood clot or agitate the anterior blood vessels inside. 

“You think I’m mad over a pillow?”

“No, of course not.” 

You sound stuffy. It’s adorable. Adorable and sad. He rubs the hill of your chin in a show of affection. 

“Then why?”

“Sorry, I think I’m just tired. I- I was trying to make tonight perfect because,” — a small tear bumps down your cheek — “it’s our first night together even if it was accidental.”

He dabs at your upper lip and the wet blood there with a smile growing. “It was perfect. It is perfect. You getting a nosebleed on a seven dollar pillow doesn’t change that.” His hand moves to your cheek, squashing your baby tear. “You know I love any opportunity to touch you… Now, do you want a glass of water?”

You close your eyes and lean your face heavily into his palm. “Can I have one of those kisses from earlier?”

“Can you keep your blood inside your body?” he asks with a smile, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“Depends how hard you bite me.”

He’s very, very gentle.

—

+1

Aaron breaks his nose. You are not supposed to know that he breaks his nose, only he breaks it so bad that he has to go to the hospital to get it set, and he decides he’d like you there. 

Technically, somebody else broke his nose. The details aren’t important. What matters is that Aaron makes a rookie mistake and he has to deal with the consequences, which is a biting, aching pain behind his eyes and a trip to the ER. He does not let them take him in an ambulance, and it really isn’t urgent. He sits in a waiting room chair with a stiff back and it doesn’t take long before you’re striding inside looking terrified. 

“Hey, baby,” he says, testing it out. He doesn’t really like it. 

“What did they give you?” you ask, bending at the waist to take his face into your kind hands. 

“Vicodin when I got here.”

“Lucky you.” You turn his face in your hands. 

“You look beautiful,” he says. 

“I wish I could say the same, but somebody messed you up bad.”

He laughs and takes your face into his hands, the two of you smiling way too much for the situation that you’re in. “I was so worried,” you say with a little laugh. 

He kisses you soundly. It hurts, but it’s worth it. 

They call his name not long after and a nurse takes you both into a grey examination room. The doctor is a short, stern woman who has to use a stool to reach Aaron’s face, and she sets his nose with a swiftness that even he manages to recognise for the brutality that it is in his drug haze. 

You hold his hand. He has to try very hard not to crush your fingers. 

It starts bleeding immediately. 

Aaron meets your gaze over the doctor's head, eyes wide and in similar fashion as your own, and he knows it’s an adverse reaction to shocking pain but he starts giggling. Aaron Hotchner doesn’t giggle, really. He laughs, and sometimes when he’s with Jack that laugh can get super loose and high, but this is a bona fide giggle. 

You try to gasp in shock but you’re laughing too. “Aaron,” you reproach.

He holds his breath as the doctor presses gauze to his face. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says.

You snicker behind your hand. The doctor presses gauze to his face and rolls her eyes. She likely does not get paid enough. 

“You’re still handsome,” you say giddily. 

“Oh, well that's good.”

There’s a small silence rife with tension, and when it breaks it bursts like a dam. You laugh so hard you end up clinging to his arm, chest pressed to his bicep. He strokes the back of your head with a wobbly hand, wondering how miserable he’d be if you weren’t here with him right now. 

“What happened to keeping all your blood inside your body, Hotchner?” you ask, delighted. 

He beams at you dopily. “I’ve never been any good at that.”

You kiss his forehead. The doctor is furious. 

༺༻

[ceslmachine]

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