Is my back arched enough? Draw me like one of your French girls.
🌸 on We Heart It.
Anonymous asked: Could you maybe write a one-shot or something about Emily having horrible nightmares after the Doyle fiasco and Hotch wakes her up and comforts her because she so distraught? I just think that'd be so sweet. :)
* Thank you so much for sending me this! Please feel free to send me others, I hope you enjoy! (: Peace x
His mind was completely entranced in the report just recently submitted by Reid going over the procedures the team had taken in their recent Miami takedown. The young genius had an unfortunate habit of forgetting to cross his t’s and dot his i’s, literally, because of his uncanny ability to get through the work so fast.
From prior experience, Hotch knew that the upper management would simply return any files they deemed illegible, so here at 8pm at night he sat at his desk, going over a case report for the third time, and still finding tiny errors that needed correcting. It was a frustrating, menial task; but it needed to be done.
He had planned to have an early night tonight, to be out of the office by 6pm at the latest. He was trying to make a more concerted effort on the whole to be out of the office a lot more; his last doctor’s check up had given him enough of a fright to take the matter seriously.
Emily had been on his case about his working too hard for the last year.
But being the sweet woman she was she’d remained reasonably silent when he’d come back from that appointment, bar shooting him the smallest of smug smirks.
Speaking of which…
When he was this tired, and this focused, with nothing more than wanting to be home as his determination, there was very little that could break his trance.
Except for the sound of his pregnant wife starting to get restless in her sleep.
His eyes flickered over to her sleeping form on his leather couch in the corner of the office. He affectionately took in the sight of her swollen stomach; at six months there was definitely no hiding their little bean of joy anymore.
Not that he’d ever wanted to. He’d been so excited when she’d given him the news that she’d had to physically stop him from running out into the street and yelling it out to every person he saw.
In this moment though, his pen still remained in hand as he watched her for a moment.
She was wriggling slightly, and she wore a pained expression on her face. He could see the tension in her body.
It didn’t look right. She was supposed to be sleeping. She was supposed to be peaceful.
“No, no you can’t, please” he heard her starting to moan in her sleep.
He was out of his armchair and around his desk in the blink of an eye. When it came to Emily, any slight inkling of her discomfort and he had very little control over his actions; he had a baser need to fix anything that was bringing her harm.
As he reached her side and sunk down onto his knees before her, he saw a tear streaming down her face. And as she began kicking a little more violently, his primary concern at this point was that she was going to end up kicking herself off the couch and onto the floor.
“No, no, please, I beg you, I’ll do anything” she muttered, her voice sounded desperate as she started fighting in her sleep.
Aaron grabbed her arms and held them firmly, shaking her gently, his gut burning with a deep-seated fury at the dead arms dealer that still came to haunt his wife once every so often.
“Emily, wake up, you’re safe, I’m here. Everything’s okay, Emily” he whispered to her, trying to cautiously shake her out of her fit and into consciousness.
“No, no please they need me, get off me” she begged, still thrashing around in his arms.
“Em, It’s Aaron. Open your eyes, you need to wake up. Ian isn’t here.” he commanded with a little more force, pulling her wriggling body against his.
She fought for another twenty seconds and he kept repeating the same reassuring sentences over and over, finally feeling her body begin to slacken in his arms as she re-entered a more conscious state.
Then the tears started streaming harder down her face.
She kept her eyes closed, but he knew she was awake by the way she clung to his shirt and leaned her head forward into his neck and began sobbing.
He sighed quietly and held her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back, trying to settle her.
His jaw was set tight as his mind started to go down a dark corridor, he usually kept locked away. But then their little bump, who was currently pressed into his abdomen gave a little kick, and he was brought back to the present, and he couldn’t help but smile.
They were so lucky.
It was a fact that he acknowledged every single day.
They stayed huddled together like that for minutes, just comforting one another. They didn’t need words. Their silent clutches were enough.
When he felt Emily’s breathing finally starting to regulate again, he moved to place a soft kiss on her cheek, as he slid up to sit by her on the couch, and pulled her into his side. With one hand he gently ran his fingers through her hair, knowing how much it soothed her, the other lingered lovingly on her belly.
“He was threatening to kill her. He found us at the hospital and he, he..”
“I know sweetheart”
“What’s wrong with me?… He’s dead.”
“It’s completely normal,” he promised, looking down to catch her sad eyes. He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her head.
“This is anything but normal,” she retorted, scowling as she started berating her subconscious for being so ridiculous.
“You know I had a similar dream about Foyet just last week” he confided quietly, his eyes now resting on her stomach as he gingerly stroked her.
Emily looked at him, slightly in disbelief, and then confusion.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighed as he placed another soft kiss on her head.
“You were so sound asleep. I couldn’t wake you, and it didn’t really bother me after I’d had some time to shake it off, so I just forgot to even mention it to be honest.”
His black orbs met her worried brown ones and he cupped her face softly.
“It’s completely normal. He’s a part of what’s made you, you. Just as Foyet is a part of what’s made me, me. And that’s okay. Because I love you, just the way you are.” he reassured, eliciting a small nod from her in understanding.
He stood up and gently tugged on her hand to bring her up with him.
“Come on, let’s get you home Mrs. Hotchner” he said, pulling her in for a tender kiss.
He took a dramatic look down at his watch and then placed a hand on the bump.
“According to my watch it is way past Baby’s dinner time. She must be starving,” he teased with a wink at her.
Emily smiled up at him, wiping a wayward tear from her face and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Let’s go home,” she agreed, entwining her fingers in his and leading him back over to his desk to close up for the night.
for some reason i thought both of these were the same post and i sat for awhile trying to figure out which ice cream face was the weak bitch
While we’re on the subject of Hotch remember when he was training for that triathlon….I nearly died.
02x04 The Paper Hat Anniversary