#criminal minds ofc

[marril96]

Set in 12.14. Spencer gets a plea offer.

[ssahotchnerr]

I had a dream about this scenario last night and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. Aaron’s fiancé is currently in law school but she mostly has done everything online. Recently she’s had to start attending classes and her teacher has been making her extremely uncomfortable. He got access to her phone number and texts her all hours of the night. Leaves notes on her assignments asking her to dinner etc. she doesn’t want to worry Aaron cause he has so much on his plate anyway so she ask Morgan to go have a talk with the teacher to scare him off. But it turns into more of an obsession and Aaron has to get involved.

holy shit you literally had a full on movie going on in that dream and it's literal perfection cw; creepy guy yuck

it starts out with lingering stares. the prof's gaze would remain on you far too long, even after you finished speaking if you were to talk aloud, and another student was adding their input. you brush it off, tell yourself you're probably overreacting, but without fail, there's always that sickening feeling pooling in your stomach.

at first, you're seated in the front - you've always been that kind of student - better access to the board, quick to ask questions, etc., just very involved in class. but as you're seated in the front, you catch him staring at your legs, he moves closer to you during the lecture, not so subtly glancing at your chest, calls on you even if your hand isn't raised.

the more uncomfortable you get, you talk less, rarely participate, you choose to sit in the back, and that's when he starts leaving notes on your assignments - telling you how attractive you are, how you're the most extraordinary student he's had, asking you to coffee or dinner. you try your hardest to ignore it, telling yourself you just need to get through the semester. you even went to your academic advisor to see if you could potentially drop the class, but it's a needed credit. and at this point, you're already a bit into the semester, so you might as well finish it off. not only is it all incredibly disgusting, it's disheartening too. you were so looking forward to attending in-person classes after being strictly online, and now you wish you would've stuck to that.

aaron, of course, is quick to notice a change too. you don't talk about the class over dinner like you used to, ask for his expertise when it comes to difficult assignments. you're quick to change the subject if it's brought up - you honestly avoid the topic altogether. aaron knows something's going on, he provides his support in different ways to show he's there for you - making you your coffee in the morning, packing you a lunch, leaving a note with it. (omg imagine the professor finding aaron's note to you - it accidentally slipped out of your bag and he's just outraged 🫢)

when you go to morgan, shock and disgust covers his face and he starts rattling off questions - how long has this been going on, have you reported him, have you told aaron?!?!?!!? and when you tell him no, tears are just rolling down your cheeks - and it's actually the first you've cried over this whole situation, you've been holding up a strong front until now. :(( derek pulls you into a tight hug, tells you he'll do what he can, and also strongly encourages you to tell aaron. he's all, "he's your man, he'll want to know" 🥺

and ohhh when aaron finds out - furious is an understatement. you tell him the whole story from the beginning, you show him the notes that the prof has left you, and he's immediately in protective mode. and despite how upset he is, he's still so gentle and he feels so bad you've been going through this, alone at that :(((( his voice is all soft as he brushes your tears away, "sweetheart 🥺 you could've told me" and pulls you safely into his arms. you explain how you figured you'd just suck it up, didn't want to bother him, and aaron just gently shushes you, tells you okay, he understands, but please never hesitate to come to him if there's something going on :(

aaron then tells you that he's going to put a stop to this, he'll make sure of it. he calls the school, sends a Very Scary and Very FBI letter. and that prof gets fired yay!!!! and actaully, he does have a criminal record of stalking and being a creep. but with that new free time 🫢 that only means he has more time to look into you ...

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Ten years too late

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader, Jj x Emily

Warning: unrequited feelings, Emily moved on, jj sucks, Mama Emily, slight angst, homewrecking?, jemily angst

Summary: Emily moved on just like JJ had..so why does JJ suddenly want Emily?

“It gives me you” JJ looked up at Emily who shook her head “no-don’t do this” she whispered to the blonde “I love you Emily”. The air felt suffocating “you need to leave JJ” the grey haired woman swallowed as she stepped back trying not to make eye contact.

“I’m married JJ, you’re married!”

“I love you, I’m sorry” the blonde apologised “did you still love me when you married Will? Did you love me when you had his children? Did you love me when you went home to your family?” Emily sighed looking at JJ who looked ready to cry. “Or did you love me once I met Y/n? Once we got married? Do you love me now that I refuse to drop everything in my life for you? I loved you JJ for years well before Will was on the scene”.

“I loved you hoping that one day you would wake up and realise I was there but you didn’t not until it pleased you. I have a family- a reason to come home.. i have something to lose JJ and now you want me?”

“That’s no fair Emily you can’t- you can’t say that” JJ cried “say what? The truth? I’m sorry it took so long for you to admit your truth but it’s ten years too late”. The jingling of keys burst their now staring contest as the front door swung open “mama?” A small voice called out in the home.

The sound of little feet pattering in the home as the little girl ran excitedly towards the older woman before she leapt into awaiting arms.

“Hey honey” you whispered kissing Emily as you entered the kitchen “Hey JJ, I didn’t know you would visit- oh are you okay?” You rushed to the teary eyed blondes side. “She’s fine, JJ was just leaving” Emily blurted following JJ’s eyes she was staring at your pregnancy bump “it’s getting late” she sighed.

You nodded with a sympathetic smile as you squeezed her shoulder “I’m always here to talk” if only you knew she was just trying to get your wife. “Thank you Y/n, you’re too kind” JJ smiled up at you sadly “she’s the kindest” Emily confirmed kissing your forehead.

Emily walked the blonde out as you went to get your daughter’s bath ready, Elizabeth clinging to her mama’s side. “I love you Emily, please” JJ begged lowly hoping your daughter wouldn’t understand “I will be your friend..nothing else” closing the door JJ sat alone outside.

Ten years too late

[amelia-mariee]

“do i actually want to do a total 180 and switch career paths to the job these people have in this movie/show i just watched, or do i just want a friend group like that” is a constant thought in my mind

[bucker3911]

outfits i'd k!ll to see spencer reid in

yes the iconic gray sweatpants

i honestly prefer black but it's still a gate way to see his cock-ROACH cockroach

(COCK)ROACHES

his cock...... tails 🧍🏼‍♀️

....ty now byebye 🫠

[fear0phobia]

favorite morgan/garcia banter 1/?

[multifandomangel]

PLEASE let it be known that not all jemily shippers hate will! like i wish i could hate him! but the truth is he’s a great husband to jj and an incredible father! he’s kind and understanding and always there to support his family!

[javsobsessions]

I wonder if the writers knew that “F-ing Brian” was gonna be our main takeaway from 17x03…

[circussbeetle]

Guys do you think i have a type

[maya-caffrey]

can we bring back procedurals? or at least just proper shows like how TV used to be? 5 to 15 seasons, a generous amount of episodes per season, 45 minutes: the sweet spot between too long and too short, pilot episodes that are wildly different from the rest of the show, filler episodes that overall contribute nothing but are extremely fun because that is what god intended, random musical episode, crossovers, waiting an entire week in anticipation to see what happens next, like, this was the PEAK of television, where did we go wrong

[snarkylinda]

That scene in CODA where Spencer goes full "Autistic children can pick on patterns that ours mind can't" used for "evidence" that he is NT is so fucking funny when you notice that in the same episode he cracked the case by picking a pattern the others didn't.

Multiple times.

[marril96]

Set in 12.13. Spencer and Alison reunite.

[0and0its0doctor0]

You Belong to Me, I Believe

David Rossi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not smutty but not clean either, CM Violence, Unwanted kissing by unsub

Summary: An unsub gets a little too flirty with you. David steps in.

WC: 1,021

Thank you @my-mummy-dust for helping me with everything and being my muse <3

You and David are sitting in the interrogation room in a tiny police department in Belmont, Louisiana. The unsub sitting in front of you was accused of murdering 8 women with another two still missing. David was asking him questions but he was refusing to answer anything, all he would do was stare at you practically drooling from the mouth. You and David walked out of the interrogation room and you ran a hand across your face with a sigh. It was hot, you were already sweating in your button up shirt and this interrogation was going nowhere.

“I have an idea. Just go with it.” You said taking off your over-shirt leaving you in a tight form fitting tank top and letting your hair out of the scrunchie that was holding it in a loose bun on top of your head. “What are you doing? You aren’t going in there like this.” David said stubbornly. You just looked at David with a raised eyebrow as you walked into the interrogation room. There was a low whistle from the unsub and David wanted to shoot him right then and there. 

You asked him the same questions David asked him and he answered most of them. He flirted relentlessly with you. “I’ll tell you where the girls are if you let me touch her.” He said and David smacked the table glaring at the unsub. “You don’t get to touch her. Only I get to do that.” He snapped, his voice low and threatening. “Let him.” You said stepping closer to where the unsub was chained to the table. You leaned forward just enough for him to run his chained hands through your hair. You were pulled back by a seething David Rossi.

“Get ready.” He said angrily into the radio as the unsub told you where to find the missing girls. Once David gave the information over the radio he pulled you out into the precinct. “What were you thinking?” You had never seen him this mad. “I was thinking we needed to find the missing girls and I was going to do whatever it took.” You folded your arms across your chest. He unfolded your arms and pulled you into a rough kiss tangling his hand in your hair and pushing you flush against his body. 

The kiss was sloppy and heated and angry. His hands were all over you and you felt your cheeks flush bright red when you remembered you were standing in the middle of a podunk police station with your entire team watching with rapt attention. When he finally pulled away you were panting and the color of a cherry tomato. “Do you guys need to go back to the hotel?” Aaron asked with a slight smirk to his face. David looked down at you as you were trying to straighten out your shirt.

“Nope. Just reminding her who she belongs to.” He said casually walking away leaving you there blinking. Emily walked up to you, the biggest shit eating grin on her face. “You have lipstick on your chin.” She said laughing as she walked away leaving you to run to the bathroom to sort yourself out. You couldn’t believe that just happened. Well if the team was going to find out about you and David dating might as well be in the middle of a small police department in Belmont, Louisiana. 

You were both standing in the hallway when the unsub was brought out, they were re-cuffing his hands after un-cuffing him from the table when he got loose and booked it towards you. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a forced kiss, the entire precinct burst into action. David pulled his gun pointing it at the unsub who had you held tight against his body. The officers that were originally handcuffing him managed to pry him away from you as you got shoved towards David who caught you and quickly walked you to the other side of the room out of harm's way. You were shaking trying to process what just happened.

“Hey. Are you okay?” David asked, his fingers gently grasping your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I uhm. I wasn’t expecting that to happen.” You said shakily, all of a sudden you were very cold. He leaned forward to kiss you but this time he was gentle and he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Do not move.” He told you, stepping away from where you were leaning against a desk because you felt like your legs were going to give out. You watched as David walked up to the unsub and decked him. He walked back over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.  “Come on. We’re done here.” He grabbed your upper arm and guided you towards the waiting SUV’s. “But what about the girls?” You asked as he buckled you into the front seat. “You're the only girl I’m worried about right now.” He got in the driver's seat and took off towards the hotel. 

Once you arrived at the hotel and were safely inside David’s hotel room you sat on the edge of the bed not really sure what to do. “Hey kitten. You’re okay.” He said brushing some of your hair back. You surged forward practically knocking him to the ground as you aggressively pressed your lips to his licking your way into his mouth. He growled and wrapped his hands around your waist walking you backwards till you were flat on the mattress. His lips left sloppy wet kisses across your chin, down the curve of your neck and you groaned as he sucked a bruise into your clavicle. “I love you baby.” He whispered into your ear, licking the curve of it causing you to shudder. “You know I love that.” You said breathlessly causing him to smirk. “My beautiful girl.” He said into your ear before placing open mouthed kisses along your exposed skin. And that was how your bra wound up tossed across the room landing on a lamp.

[ssahotchnerr]

AHHH can we have a sneak peek of ur fic where aaron’s being a lil shit 🤭🤭🤭

ask and you shall receive 🤭

"busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"somehow," your eyes playfully narrow again. "my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moves upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly as you turn back to the cupboard, leaning up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch slightly in your throat.

[violet-bruises]

Baby Lay Your Head Down

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x OFC (SSA Sophie Carter)

Warnings: Established past relationship (kind of), mild suggestive language, mentions of grief, mentions of death and almost death, mentions of suppressing emotions, excessive longing, angst

Author's note: I've had ideas for Hotch swirling in my head for months years, and this is the first time I've managed to get anything down on paper. In my head, my OFC is a little more fleshed out, as is her relationship to Hotch, and their story is much larger. This is just a small blurb taken from a point in their story that was swirling in my mind recently. I hope it makes sense lol. ALSO! This is my very first time posting to tumblr, or publicly at all for that matter.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AARON HOTCHNER AS A CHARACTER! ALL CREDIT TO THE CREATOR! (did i say it right?)

Word count: 2,474

Summary: Aaron is usually the first one in the office. Usually.

Once upon a time, Aaron loved mornings. In law school, he’d wake up while it was still dark, squeeze in an early run around campus, shower, and enjoy his coffee all before the sun ever began to show its soft colors. When he and Haley were newlyweds, he’d surprise her with breakfast in bed—which quickly grew cold as they entangled themselves in their straight from the registry sheets. And once Jack was born, Aaron would wake up just to hold him, rock him in the cushioned chair in his nursery before work. But soon, slowly and then all at once, his life grew darker. A thick shadow cast over his days, no matter how high the sun sat in the sky. He and Haley drifted apart. He’d wake many mornings to an empty apartment—no longer a home, much less a house. He spent his mornings in the confines of the BAU. And then Haley died, and Jack almost did; Aaron started sneaking into Jack’s room to watch him sleep just to reassure himself that his son was still here, alive and breathing.

But eventually, mornings became bearable, until they were even enjoyable again. The thick smog over his days lifted. He stopped going into the office early and started having small moments with Jack. Aaron got to enjoy his coffee again, squeeze in the occasional early run, and, for the first time ever, eat breakfast in bed, made for him. For the first time, Aaron’s small apartment felt like home; the soft colors of the sun were no match the vibrant warmth Sophie carted into his life. But clearly Aaron was cursed long ago to fulfill the same prophecy over and over again, because, just as he was finally happy again, truly and utterly, deeply and joyously, he managed to fuck that up, too.

So, once again, Aaron arrives early at the office now every morning. Some occasional mornings, he’s not the first one to wake the floor. On those mornings, he’s grateful—a pot of bitter hot coffee almost certain to be residing in the carafe, singing his name. Most mornings, however, Aaron arrives to a dark and empty bullpen, and he’ll trudge to the small kitchenette in the break room before doing anything else to start the coffee. While the coffee brews, Aaron will make his way to his office, setting down his briefcase and unloading the files on his desk. He’ll file away papers he’s finished with, creating a pile for JJ and Garcia to review. By this time, his coffee has dripped enough that he can pour himself a decent cup. Black. No cream or sugar when in the office, not that any amount could truly save the monstrosity. He’ll place the files on Garcia’s desk, then backtrack to JJ’s. Once he returns, he’ll sit at his desk, pouring over case files, old and new, as the sun rises outside and the city wakes and people begin to pour into the office, a trickle, then a flood.

The same routine for the past three months. Every morning. Everyday.

Except for today.

Today, when Aaron manages to pull himself to the seventh floor and into the BAU, he stops short. The usually quiet and dim office space is punctuated by a soft glow, right at its heart. As he approaches from the entrance, he expects someone to be occupying the lit desk, but its chair is empty. Scattered across the tabletop are case files. A file on the missing twin girls in Arizona from last week (paperwork the responsible unit chief in him is praying is finally done) is open on top, but more lie underneath. He can’t quite read the labels in the shadows that escape the desk lamp’s light. Aaron reaches his hand out to thumb through the papers.

“Oh!”

Aaron swivels to find Supervisory Special Agent Sophie Carter, sock-footed and grasping a massive cup of coffee, standing before him, clearly having just emerged from the break room. Aaron briefly, traitorously, wonders what the ratio of actual coffee to sugar to cream she’s decided on today.

“Good morning,” Aaron greets her, gruffly. He hasn’t spoken since waking up, really only just above a whisper when dropping Jack off at Jessica’s. His voice is rough with unuse. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning,” Sophie responds. She diverts eye contact and brushes just past Aaron to reach her desk chair. Aaron watches her. “And I work here.”

Aaron’s lips purse displeasingly. After a moment, Sophie glances up at him then sighs. “I, um, couldn’t really sleep. Figured I’d turn that into being a model employee and finally finish all of my paperwork.”

Aaron documents the subtle red tinge bloomed across her cheeks. Still avoiding his questioning and concerned gaze, she raises her coffee mug to her soft lips. I’m Down To Just 1 Cup A Day in big block letters written on the side. The mug is as big as his head.

“I wish you’d chosen that philosophy about ten years ago. Would’ve saved me a few headaches.”

Sophie finally meets his eyes again. Warm and dark, nearly midnight when cast away from the light on her desk. Aaron is reminded of the night skies that cover all of the small towns he’s seen; far enough from the city, awash with billions of tiny dots of light—stars that create impossibly beautiful and intricate patterns in the sky—the vastness could swallow him whole, and he’d welcome it with open arms.

“Ha ha,” she intones, but her eyes never lose their warmth. Aaron chuckles but doesn’t respond. Instead, he watches. Watches her shuffle through papers, write things down on a sticky note, tuck papers away in folders, pull more papers out. Finally, with tight shoulders, she turns to look up at him. “Can I help you?”

Aaron scans her face. “What are you doing here so early?”

She frowns. “I told you. I couldn’t sleep.”

Then, Sophie sighs, slumping back in her chair. Aaron knows she’s tired. But it’s not the discoloration under her eyes, or the heaviness of her lids that gives her away. It’s how quickly she caves to telling the truth. Too tired to be stubborn, Aaron muses. The fight and irritation drain from her in an instant. “I don’t know, Hotch. Genuinely, I really haven’t been sleeping well, promise. But. . . yeah, it’s been more than just a few sleepless nights.” She flops over, forehead resting on her folded arms. “I haven’t had insomnia like this since college.” Her words come out muffled and pitiful, wrought with exhaustion.

“How long has it been this bad?”

“Um, I guess. . . since the serial in Montana.”

“That was three months ago.”

She doesn’t answer; her head stays buried. Aaron frowns, though he pretty much has been since he realized it was her desk light on in the dark office. Since his discovery, the sun has risen a tiny bit beyond the brick of the building, the sky a cornflower blue. Aaron reckons it’s about 5:30—about an hour and a half before anyone starts arriving—two and a half before the bullpen is officially alive for the day (and three before Morgan manages his way in). Aaron’s noticed Sophie’s tiredness. Of course he has. He catches her blank stares and heavy lids easily. He would’ve said something by now, but her exhaustion had, remarkably, not yet affected her job. The minute duty calls, she springs into action, like she’s been a tightly coiled spring finally allowed to burst. But, it’s more than just that that holds Aaron back. Because that wasn’t part of their arrangement, was it? Because asking her if she’s been sleeping, or feeling well, or eating okay, or taking care of herself, or seeing anyone— those questions were off limits. Wasn’t that what they’d decided? The rules they’d laid down?

Aaron never really was good at following the rules.

“C’mon.”

Sophie lifted her head, eyes wide and round. “What?”

“C’mon,” Aaron repeated, holding his hand out for her to take. She looked between him and his outstretched palm, gaze wildly skeptical.

“Aaron. . . we talked—”

“You talked, I listened, and this—this isn’t about that. This is about ensuring all of my subordinates are in appropriate shape to adequately perform their duties.”

“Last time I checked, I perform my duties far better than adequately.”

“Sophie,” he pleads. It’s a mistake and he knows it, but she broke the rule first. She called him Aaron. Not Hotch, or Agent Hotchner. His resolve was weak enough as it was; her so easily tossing around his first name like that, when he hadn’t heard it from her in months, when he had grown so used to hearing it when she lay next to him, or, when she whispered it, breathlessly, under him. “Please just. . . humor me.”

Her icy look melted, trickling down her body as exhaustion quickly crept up on her. She didn’t take his hand, but she did stand, shuffling papers in folders and stacking them neatly on top of each other. Aaron waited patiently for her to finish tidying and wondered if he’d ever unlearn her. If he ever wanted to. Arranging papers and cleaning off the desk cleaner than he’d seen it since before it was hers—she was stalling to fully accept his offer, and he knows it’s a punishment, her not giving in. For whom, he’s not quite sure.

Finally, after ages, she turns to him. Her eyebrows raise.

Aaron simply turns on his heel, slightly tipping his head for her to follow. He leads them up the short staircase and as they cross the threshold into his office. Aaron places his briefcase down on his own desk before turning to the couch pressed against the opposite wall.

“Hotch—” So she did realize her mistake, “—really, I’m fine. This isn’t the first sleepless night and early morning I’ve had. I can manage on my own.”

Aaron doesn’t respond right away, busying himself with gathering blankets and pillows.

“Hotch.”

“I am very aware that you are perfectly capable of managing on your own. But, Soph,” Aaron can see the miniscule pinch in her brows. Small, but powerful in the painful way it tugs at him. He sighs. “Friends, right? Don’t friends. . . take care of each other?”

Aaron knows, knows all too well, that an argument boils on the tip of her tongue. But he also knows the heavy dangle of her limbs and the soft glaze of her eyes means she’s close to nearly collapsing. It’s not fair, what he’s doing. He knows that and yet. . .

He watches her study the makeshift bed he’s made for her. And then, “I suppose. . . Penelope would do the same for me, too.”

Aaron suppresses a smile. “She would.”

“She’d do more, actually. Penelope would have freshly baked cookies waiting for me, too.”

“That she would.”

“Penelope is a better friend than you are.”

Aaron hears the jest in her voice, but he doesn’t smile. “That she is,” he says, softly.

Finally, Sophie drags her feet to the couch. Without meeting his gaze, she climbs under the covers and settles in. She inhales deeply as her eyes flutter shut.

It should be studied, Aaron thinks, the mercurial rush of affection that overcomes him. He wishes he could control it. Tamper it down and bury it under the crushing weight of all the other emotions he has buried and ignored. He’s usually quite good at it, actually, with years of careful experience under his belt. Though maybe that’s the problem; he’s attempting to add to something already overflowing, and the erosion of it all has chipped his self-control down to nearly nothing.

Aaron’s surety is bone deep: he’s destined to love her until the day he dies. Even if she doesn’t want him to, even if she doesn’t love him. He’d use his dying breath to confess his overwhelming and all-consuming truth. His throat grows tight.

He’s about to turn on his heel, afraid of what he’ll do if he lingers any longer, when Sophie softly calls out to him.

“Thank you,” she tells him, her eyes opening to finally meet his again. Like an electric shock, the urge to touch her races through him. To caress her warm cheek in his palm, to cradle her face and pull it closer to his own, to press his lips to hers. Aaron feels his fingers twitch under his thinning restraint.

He allows his lips to curve in a faint smile. “Of course,” he whispers.

Aaron finally retreats. With his back to her, he swears he can feel Sophie watching him, but when he turns back as he reaches his desk, Sophie has flipped onto her side, her back facing him. It’s for the best, Aaron reminds himself. If he’d caught her eye again, the ghost of his resolve would haunt his office forever.

As the hours ticked on, the BAU bullpen slowly comes back to life. Just as eight o’clock slips by and the trickling morning light catches the ends of Sophie’s hair ablaze, a knock sounds on his door. Before Aaron gets a chance to stand and answer, the door opens and Garcia swiftly steps in.

“Good morning, sir! I sent over the background profiles you requested from the Jefferson City case—”

“Thank you, Garcia. I—”

“Also, I got that police chief in Wichita to finally send over the files on that cold case Rossi needed—”

“Garcia—”

“You wouldn’t believe the sweet talking I had to do, I mean, Morgan level—”

“Garcia!” Aaron couldn’t resist glancing at Sophie, still fast asleep.

Unfortunately, Garcia caught his slip, and she followed his gaze.

“Oh!”

Garcia looked between Aaron and Sophie, once. Then twice.

“Oh, sir,” she started, much softer than when she’d entered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize!” Garcia began to back out of his office. “See! I saw her desk light on but I hadn’t seen her since I got in. I thought maybe she just forgot to turn it off, ya know, but then she didn’t respond to my text! Which I get now why, you know, given that she’s, you know—”

“Garcia.” She stopped at the entry way. “Let’s just— please don’t—”

She nodded rapidly and mimicked zipping her lips shut, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Of course, sir.”

Just before she closed the door, Garcia poked her head back in.

“Oh! Also, I brought leftover cookies I baked for the counseling center. They’re in the kitchen!” And the door clicked shut behind her.

“See,” Sophie mumbled, voice muffled by the pillows. “Told you.”

Aaron laughs. Maybe these new early mornings weren’t so bad after all.

[hearthotchner]

I can’t remember who wrote it but there was like some secret admirer writing hotch little notes blurb somewhere on this silly little app and I just need more of that content.

Like if reader doesn’t even work in the BAU they could even be like a cleaner or just someone that works in and around quantico with the BAU but they start writing hotch notes about how proud they are of him and what a lovely person he is, how his smile makes them feel warm and whatnot.

Maybe like very socially anxious reader idk but yeah they need him to know how great he is but just can’t spit the words out face to face

‘you have a pretty smile, you should do it more often. <3’

aaron felt a slight blush rise to his cheeks, shade matching the tiny piece of paper in his hands.

rossi appeared in the door, noticing him peering down at something, “what’s that?”

“nothing.” he said a bit too quickly, tucking the note into his blazer pocket.

“what’s it say? show me.” the older man persisted.

“no. go away, dave.”

he put his hands up in defeat, “fine, i’ll leave you alone. just thought i’d let you know, that your eye candy,” rossi smirked, “is standing outside.” he said, teasingly.

furrowing his brows, he feigned ignorance, “what are you talking about?”

“seriously?” rossi scoffed. “anyway, i actually wanted to tell about..”

dave’s voice drained out, and was replaced by the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. it took all of his pride to not snap his head toward your direction, not having it in him to prove his friend right.

aaron couldn’t make up his mind; he felt guilty about it. on one hand, the notes made him weak, a mess, but so did you.

that’s why he felt bad.

he’d never spoken to you, other than the occasional greeting when you were talking to morgan or jj — he knew nothing about you, hell, he didn’t even know what department you worked in, how could he possibly like you?

he was drawn to you, yet he didn’t know why.

granted, he knew nothing about the mystery person sending him the notes either, but he assumed they were an admirer, who couldn’t muster up the courage to ask him out in person. all he knew, was that those words made him melt.

pink pieces of paper would almost always be found in between the files that his team would send up to him to assess — he knew it wasn’t any of them, he recognised their handwriting.

everyday, his heart would beat a little faster out of anticipation for a note being left for him; whenever there was, it never failed to tinge his cheeks red.

looking over the bullpen, he gripped the rail a little tighter, as his frown deepened at the sound your voice filling the room. when your eyes met his from across the room, however, his features softened, for a split second, the inner conflict coming to peace.

he hoped he didn’t see any more of you for the rest of the week.

—

sometimes, he wondered if when he made a wish, the universe purposefully did the exact opposite of what he wanted.

the very next case they took on, was joint with the domestic terrorism division, which just so happened to be the team you worked with, shocker.

what made it worse, was that the notes appeared more often, for the duration of this case; there were so many people in and out of the bullpen, and, he was stressed enough as it was, so, looking out for his messenger was the least of his worries.

he tried to remain professional, for the sake of the case, but he couldn’t help but have his gaze trail over to you, while you worked from across the room.

this was wrong. you were probably dating someone, and aaron already had someone who was interested in him; even though, he had never seen them, he knew that when he did, the first thing he’d do was ask them out on a date. they never failed in making his day, making him smile, they made him feel warm inside. aaron hoped that one day, he’d be able to do the same.

picking up his coffee cup, he noticed that there was a neatly folded up post-it note on the table where it sat.

‘you’re great at your job :)’

instantly, his shoulders slumped, and he wasn’t as tense anymore. that was until he looked over at you, standing infront of the whiteboard, biting your lip and furrowing your brows in concentration as you wrote. turning his attention over to the actual words on the board, he felt his heart drop at the familiarity.

he recognised the way some of the letters or words were written in cursive, whilst others were separated, how your handwriting was fairly small, but the spaces between words were slightly large, how you always used half s’s, unless it was the first letter.

as his eyes flicked from the note to the board, you saw the look of realisation, “now that you know, how disappointed are you?”

he breathed out, “disappointed? you think i’m disappointed?”

“well kinda, yeah.” you replied meekly. “i thought you hated me.”

“what?“

“you’re always like.. frowning at me.. like the other day! you were literally glaring in my direction.” you admitted, “i’ve always had a little crush on you, and, i wanted you to know how great i think you are. but, it’s kinda difficult when you’re always looking at me like that.”

“i’m not- i didn’t mean to.” he sighed. “it’s completely the opposite of what you think. this whole time, i thought what i was feeling for you was wrong.” now it was your turn to be confused. “because i didn’t know i was falling for the same person twice.”

“what do you mean?”

“your notes. they’re the reason i feel genuine excitement for paperwork — the thought of finding them makes me so warm. seeing you, though, stole my breath away, and it felt so wrong — that i had feelings for you and note person — because i knew nothing about you, but at the same time, i felt like i’d known you my whole life.” he let out a breathy laugh at what he said next, “i probably looked mad, because i was frustrated with myself — my feelings.”

“oh.”

“i can’t blame you, though, can i? so, can i take you to dinner sometime?” he shot you a hopeful smile;

you mirrored his look, “you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

“likewise, sweetheart.”

never had he been more grateful that his wishes hadn’t been granted.