Just Saw Godzilla X Kong It Was So Good Ngl (also I Do Not Remember Trapper Being That Good Looking),

Just saw Godzilla x Kong it was so good ngl (also I do not remember Trapper being that good looking), the music in it was on top 🙏

ok but whos gonna talk about hotchy boy being all ☹️☹️☹️☹️ when reader does not talk to him just some misunderstanding where they are not in a committed relationship but everyone just knows they have a thing for one another i just wanna hear aaron say “are you mad at me? did i do something? i am a sucker for soft aaron for ONE PERSON his person!!!

Hotch is socially awkward. He can mask it with indifference or professionality, he can manage to assimilate when he's in familiar situations, but now he sticks out like a sore thumb.

He's standing in the doorway of the precinct's kitchen, waiting. Waiting for you to acknowledge him, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to preemptively forgive his apology, waiting for something.

In turn, you're trying very hard not to do any of those things. You're not fond of being reprimanded, especially not for something you didn't do. So when Aaron had snapped at you in front of local officers for being distracted by your phone on a case, and you were only texting back and forth with Morgan about the second crime scene, you'd been annoyed.

You know that it's his job to keep everyone in line, and if he'd been right about you slacking off, you'd have taken the fall. But all he'd done was obstruct you from your job, and embarrass you to boot. So call it petty, but you're trying to avoid even looking at the man if you don't have to.

Thankfully, the precinct's kitchen is against a wall, not in a separate room. It means there's ample space to slip around Aaron and go back to your desk without having to ask him to move.

You're only a few steps behind him when you hear his voice call out after you, "Y/N?"

You try not to stop to abruptly in your tracks, but you turn to him with a politely interested look on your face.

"Yes, sir?"

His jaw shifts at the title, "Are you mad at me?"

You're a little stunned by the question. It sounds like something a child asks their mother, standing by the edge of her bed and asking why she'd rather sleep than play. It certainly doesn't sound like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, the 6'1 man who commands respect in any room he enters.

"What?" Is all you can muster in response.

"Are you..." He repeats, eyes anxious as they stare into your own, "Are you upset with me? Did I do something?"

Now you feel like a child. Embarrassment burns hot at your cheeks, and you chew on the inside of one as you debate telling him that your feelings are hurt because he embarrassed you.

"Nothing," You shake your head, gripping your coffee mug tighter, "You didn't do anything. Don't worry about it. I'm just tired."

Now he's analyzing you, head tilted curiously.

"That's... the oldest excuse in the book," His tone almost sounds sympathetic, like he's pitying you for your terrible lie. "Please tell me if I need to apologize for something."

"It's not-" You rush out, running a tired hand over your face, "It's dumb. Let's just focus on the case, we can talk later."

"I want to talk now," He pushes cautiously, stepping closer to you, "I won't be able to focus on this case until we resolve this."

You try not to think too hard about that, about the fact that his personal relationship with you means more to him than his work.

"It really is dumb," You laugh, but it's a humorless sound, "But earlier, I- I wasn't just slacking off, Hotch. You snapped at me in front of all of those officers, and I was just swapping pictures with Morgan of different missing persons files. I wasn't, like, playing a game or something. I'm not an irresponsible employee."

His face has fallen into something just short of despair. He's calculating the effect of his outburst, knowing now that the local officers probably trust you less, or ridicule you in private for being too absorbed in whatever online presence they think you were updating.

"I'm sorry," He says earnestly, and his chest caves in slightly with how sincere it is, "I should have known you weren't messing around. I hadn't considered that you were talking to one of us, we usually call each other. But I understand - that's no excuse. I shouldn't have reprimanded you, especially not in front of everyone."

Slowly, the more he speaks, his words disarm that little ticking time bomb of pettiness in your chest until its spark fizzles out completely. You're relieved to have closure on the incident, but it doesn't fix everything.

Hotch will, though.

"I'll let you deliver the profile." He decides, in the absence of your response, "And a press conference, if we need one. Give you back any authority I stripped of you back there. I... I really am sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay," You finally give in, shoulders slumping from how stiff they'd been around your neck, "I know this is a particularly stressful case. And it's your job to boss us around."

He offers you a small laugh at that, a soft exhale through his nose paired with something that you could perceive as a smile.

"I just wish it had gone differently."

"Me too," He nods, guilt still trailing after his words, clinging onto him no matter how much he tries shaking it off, "If anyone says anything, or avoids letting you work on something important, let me know."

"I will." You nod, "Thank you, Hotch."

"Thank you," He looks like he wants to surge forwards, and you'll admit that you wouldn't mind a make-up hug. Nevertheless, he keeps himself in check, tugging lightly on his suit jacket to readjust it over his chest, "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me I'd made a mistake."

"Oh I'll tell you," You tease, and his eyes dance with laughter he contains behind a soft smile aimed at the floor, "Mark my words, Hotch, you'll know if you mess up."

IM SCREAMING SO EXCITED OMG

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