Random one-shots

Hotch Hugs

Word count:1071
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Warnings: abduction, mentions of rape/SA, abuse/torture

Y/N : your name
Y/N/N : your nickname
Y/E/C : your eye colour
Y/H/C : your hair colour
Y/H/L : you hair length

________________________

You ran. Far, far, far away. Hopefully, that is, you thought.

The breaking of twigs beneath your feet reminded you of exactly where you were. It took you away from your created reality and the fact you were being chased by some crazy psychopath.

A little over a week ago now, you had been in Mississippi's police station working on a string of abductions turned murders. It had your stomach in a whirl. Each victim had Y/E/C eyes and Y/H/L Y/H/C hair.

So far, there had been remorse shown to each woman. They had been left in the fetal position wrapped up in a velvet blanket, each one matching the colour of the shirt their wore on the day of their abduction.

Even though this remorse had been shown, it didn't stop the brutal torture the unsub gave them. Each girl had been left with a branding on their upper left thigh along with broken ribs, many, many bruises, and so much more.

A twig snapping in front of you sprung reality back in your face. It reminded you of your mission to get out of there and find your team.

Suddenly, you were colliding with a warm body in front of you. No. No. It couldn't be. He was behind you. How did he get in front? How did he move?

"Now, now, now. What did I tell you about running?" The unsub speaks.
"Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone."
"I wish I could, but I don't want to." He says, throwing you over his shoulder. You tried to scream, but his hand covered your mouth.

Back you were. In the little asylum like room, this time hung from your hands with chains coming down from the roof.

All you prayed was that your team could find you soon. Before it was too late.

--------

He paced the room, arms crossed while one finger rested just below his lip. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week...Probably because he hadn't. He couldn't bring himself to not find you. You were his everything. One of the two things keeping him from spiralling down into the deep end. He couldn't lose you. Not after all he had been through.

"Hotch," says Morgan, "Hotch. We've got an address."
He's knocked out of his thoughts by the statement. His eyes meet the other man's, "Where?"

--------

Your eyes rested closed. You weren't asleep but weren't as aware as you were a few moments ago.

The unsub had let you out of the chains from the roof, but now had you chained to the wall.

His heavy footsteps down the stairs break you from your trance, and you shoot all your attention to the stairs.

Down, he walked, a bat in hand. Another object was in his back pocket. However, you couldn't exactly see what it was.

"Here we are, princess. Let's have some fun, shall we?"

His large hands move to your legs, opening them wide before he is hooking his fingers in your underwear and inserting himself inside.

It took him 20 minutes to finally pull out. Sliding your underwear on again, he brought out the object from his pocket. A taser. Of course it was. He jabbed it into your side, pressing a button and letting it shock you.

You couldn't help but scream as he did so. He had tortured you so much already. You couldn't take anymore. No more.

Heavy footsteps were heard upstairs. The unsub kept the taser to your side but covered your mouth with his hand, trying to silence you.

The door to the basement flung open. You felt the cold breeze from the outside trickle down the stairs and hit your face. Coming down them was Rossi, Prentiss, and the only face you wanted to see, Hotch.

"Put down the taser, Bob. Let the girl go." Rossi shouts. The unsub scoffs before whipping a knife from his pocket and holding it against your throat. At this point, the only thing keeping you up was his support. You were ready to keel over and curl up in a ball. Obviously, that wasn't possible.

"She's not your mum, Bob, she hasn't done those things your mum did." Emily speaks.
"I am aware. I'm still going to torture her, though. Maybe I'll put an end to it with this knife." His hand moves toward your throat, threatening to cut your throat right open.

You heard a gunshot, and the warmth fall down beside you. Still chained, you fall down against the wall.

As soon as it left, the warm presence was back. Yet, this time, it was a comforting warmth. The warmth of the man you loved. His hands moved swiftly to unchain you before landing on your back.
"A-aaron?" You croak.
"It's okay. I'm here. You're okay." He whispers. You rest your head against his chest as he envelopes you in a hug. A Hotch hug. One of the things on the planet you loved more than anything.

He whispered sweet nothings into your hair mixed with the occasional head kiss as you cried.

"Aaron?"
"Y/N." He replies to you, pulling back slightly to look in your eyes. You noticed his undereyes, darker than usual, and his exhausted eyes and his whole face, which showed he hadn't slept. They were clouded with tears.

"I love you." You whispered.
"I love you too, Y/N/N, more than you know," he says, "you and Jack, you're my everything."

-------

Shortly after, you sat in the back of an ambulance, still wrapped in a hug.
"She's stable," the paramedic starts, "but we're going to take her to the hospital as a precautionary."
Hotch nods, "Thank you." Before the paramedic walks to the front to fill out some paperwork.

"How long was I gone?" You ask rather quietly. So much so that Hotch couldn't hear you properly.
"I'm sorry, darling?"
"How long did he have me locked in there?"
He clears his throat, "A week and a half."

Your heart breaks again. Knowing that you put the team through that much pain.

"I tried to run. I promise." You say, the tears threatening to flow again.
"I know. It's okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

Again, he envelopes you in a warm embrace. This time, you let yourself relax enough to sleep. Aaron Hotchner really was your rock, and you knew you would anything for him.