#aaron hotch fluff

[spencerreidsprincess]

God I really loved your new Aaron hotchner smut it was amazing. Do you by any chance do dbf hotch? (Dads best friend is what dbf stands for if you don’t know😁)

YESS OFCCCC

Daddy���s Girl | dbf!aaronhotchner x reader

summary: you recently had discovered your feelings for your dads best friend

warning: fingering, praise, spanking, daddy kink, dom aaron, sub reader, mentions of masturbation, pillow humping, fingering from behind, jealous Aaron, bratty reader, punishing

you didn’t have a mom growing up. she left when you were younger. she never said why, just a note that said she was sorry and you haven’t seen her since. you didn’t even bother to even to search her up. you had your dad and that was all you needed.

your dad was stationed in Virginia, a military family meant moving, a lot. Which was something that wasn’t so ideal for you anyways. but you didn’t mind. he was barely home and you had the house all to yourself.

when he would go away, your dads best friend Aaron Hotchner would take care of you. he would do his best through his work schedule to try and see you often. every since you were younger he was like a second father to you. you loved him. but then something changed.

around your 18th birthday you saw him in a different light. he was making dinner in the kitchen, you watched as his hands moved, the way his veins popped out, or the way his fingers moved hehe he was cutting something. you didn’t even notice the wetness that soaked your tiny cunt.

you practically ran up to your bedroom and locked your door. you felt disgusted for thinking like that but you couldn’t help it. Sure you’re sex with other guys, but for some reason every time you had cummed you thought of someone certain. your dads best friend.

later on that night he bid you his goodbyes. You made sure to make the hug last a little longer. With his hands squeezing your waist as he whispered in your ear, ‘be good for me okay?’

those simple words that wouldn’t mean anything to you if he said that months before but now. you couldn’t help but run to your room as you ripped your panties off and went straight to you pillow.

you grinded your wet cunt against the soft pillow as you pinched your nipple in the brought of Aaron doing it for you. grinding on him after he had a hard day at work, feeling his tongue suck and move on your perky tit. or the sound of your pussy getting ruined by his cock.

you knew he was packing. you could tell. sometimes when he wore sweatpants you wore stare at his print and think about pulling his pants down and sucking him dry right there. you needed a plan. you needed to get him to fuck you.

you were of age so that wasn’t the problem. who would pass up a young girl like you anyways? you knew how to suck cock, you would be open to try anything as long as he was the one fucking you.

you had a plan. aaron was gonna come over later tonight after work. just to have a check up. your dad was gone so it didn’t matter. you picked out your tiniest oh shorts you owned. And I white tank top, you don’t even bother to wear a bra. you had an everything shower and you were smelling like strawberries.

this could either go two ways, he wanted you or he didn’t. And you knew he would have to want you. you were practically begging for him to put you up against a wall and ruin your tiny pussy. that’s all you wanted.

you were sitting on the couch when he walked in through the door, you smiled as you went over and hugged him like usually. making sure to press up against him a little more the usually. when he closed the door you went back to your seat on the couch.

“how was work?” You asked sweetly, you moved your body to where it was facing him right next to you on the couch. he was wearing a black suit with the top couple buttons already unopened and he looked at you.

“Long. And tiring. How was your day?” He asked you as he looked at you. You knew he was smart, a profiler. Maybe he could just read your mind and know what you wanted from him.

“Boring. But I’m glad you’re here now” You said with a smile as you looked at him and scooted closer to him on the couch. You were eager to climb on top of him and just ride him right there but you needed to be careful. Before anything else could happen your phone started to ring.

“Who is it?” Aaron asked as he looked over at you. You picked up your phone and it was Cody. Your ex boyfriend. Of course out of everyone that could ruin this moment it would be him.

“Just my ex. He hasn’t stopped blowing up my phone all day” you said as you rolled your eyes and set your phone down. you turned the ringer off so it wouldn’t affect anything.

“Why?” Aaron asked. He sat up on the couch and there wasn’t a sudden mood change. It looked more concerned. His eyes got dark and he looked more interested on why a guy would blow up your phone.

“He wants to go to a party with me tonight” you said as you shrugged your shoulders. you didn’t even wandering to the party and definitely not with him anyway. “I told him no. Plus my dad would get mad if I left the house” you said as you shrugged.

“You’re not going.” Aaron said in a stern voice. Almost like you were a criminal and he was trying to make you crack so you would tell him what you were hiding. His rough voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Why? You jealous?” You joked as you let out a tiny laugh. His face got darker. You liked this side of Aaron. It was different something you had never seen before.

“Y/n, this is not funny.” Aaron said sternly. You had rolled your eyes, it was like he was trying to parent you almost. You hated when he got like this, at first you thought it was different but eh went back into the same dad side. The one you hated.

“Take a joke, jeez” you said as you rolled your eyes and you got up to leave but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down on the couch.

“I’m not in the mood for you to be a brat” He said as he let go out your wrist. you knew this was a stupid idea and he was never going to want you in that way.

“We’ll stop trying to be my dad. I already have one, I don’t need another”’you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were completely furious at this point. You didn’t need to be told what to do.

“You need one. Your dad is barely here. You need someone to teach you a lesson” Aaron said. You looked at him. You were definitely going to play with fire with your next words.

“Teach me one then. What are you gonna do spank me?” You asked him. You weren’t prepared for him to bend you over his lap and rip your shorts off.

“You need to be spanked. you weren’t punished enough as a kid. You always got what you want” Aaron muttered as he left a hard smack on your right cheek.

You weren’t prepared for him to do this and you couldn’t help but feel your pussy get wetter as he delivered harsh makings on your left and right ass cheeks. You moaned out as he gripped the deli on your ass and delivered another rough smack.

“Yes! I’ve been such a bad girl” You moaned out as your arched your back a little more so he could smack your as harder.

“Look at you wearing this slutty panties too. You wanted this didn’t you? You planned this huh?” Aaron asked as he hooked his finger under your bright pink thong and let it go. “You wanted me to put you over my lap and spank you?” He asked you. You whimpered out as he delivered another harsh smack. “Use your words” he said as he gripped your flesh.

“Yes daddy” you moaned, you didn’t mean for it to slip but you were so horny and your brain was Turing into mush. All the nights of you jumping your pillow finally turned into this and you were so dumb.

“Daddy, huh? You want me to be your daddy?” He asked you, you kidded your head eagerly as you felt him pull your panties to the side. “Look at you, you’re practically dripping.” Aaron said as he swiped one finger down your slit.

“Please”‘you whined out. You didn’t even know what you were begging for but you needed something. you needed his finger in your hole. You needed to cum around his fingers.

“Please what?” He asked a he stuck the tip of his finger in your entrance. you whined as you spread you legs farther apart. you craved his long fingers. you have been thinking about this moment for forever.

“please finger me daddy” You whined, you didn’t have to tell him twice before he stuck his middle finger in. knuckle deep as he contuined to fuck you with it. it didn’t take him long before he stuck in another finger. “So deep” you whined as you arched your back more sticking your ass up in the air.

“such a greedy cunt, you want more? You think you can handle 3 fingers?” He asked you, you have had more then 2 and considering the size of his hands it was going to be a big stretch.

“yes daddy, I can handle it” you whimpered, all you needed was his praise and you could do it. you could take his cock right now if he offered you it. he stuck 3 fingers in your gummy walls and that didn’t stop from the pleasuring contuinng.

“such a good girl, you have been waiting for this for a long time huh?” He asked you as he quickened his pace as he went faster on your cunt. you nodded your head as you felt your orgasm.

“daddy gonna cum!” you whined out as your cunt clenched around his thick fingers. that didn’t stop him, he went even faster and you felt you reaching your climax.

“cum for daddy, cum on daddy’s thick fingers” he groaned, that’s all you needed before you released all over his fingers. you whined when he took his fingers out. you sat up on his lap and collapsed on him.

“thank you daddy” You said as you clung on to him. you could hear him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.

you smiled to yourself as you finally got what you wanted and this was not gonna stop you.

[yasministration]

subtle diamond rings - aaron hotchner

summary: when your coworkers discover the ring on your finger, they are immediately driven to ssa hotchner's office to ask him who your husband is. wc: 0.9k+

A hand on your forehead, deep in thought. Eyebrows furrowed, trying to make out something you had written down in a rush two days ago. Your co-workers, jaws dropped and eyes wide. A ring on your left hand, with the biggest diamond they had every seen. You hadn’t noticed your mistake yet, and they unanimously decided to give you one last moment of peace before chaos would ensue.

Sighing, you brought both your hands down to grip the corners of the paper you were trying to read from, but your attention was attracted to the light catching on your diamond ring. You smiled fondly at the ring on your finger before your eyes widened. Inhaling deeply, you let go of the document in front of you, trying to delicately slide the ring off your finger. Before you could slip it into a safe pocket of your purse, a voice was heard across from you.

“Subtle.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Derek’s voice. “Good thing no one saw you take that ring off, am I right?” Emily added, dragging her chair closer to Derek. “That would be a disaster.” Added Spencer, leaning on the back of Derek’s chair. You swallowed thickly, at a complete loss for words, your fist gently closing around the beautiful ring. “I… Please don’t tell anyone.” You found yourself begging, but Derek only grinned. “Don’t tell anyone what?”

You froze.

There was no possibility you could ever lie to the person that voice belonged to, so you supposed if you said nothing, you’d be safe. Penelope Garcia walked in front of your desk, looking at you with arms crossed over her chest. You cleared your throat nervously, blinking slowly at the blonde. “I-uh.”

“Put it on, show it to her.”

“Put what on?”

You opened your palm, letting Penelope see the jewellery in your hand. “You’re engaged!?” You opened your mouth, not wanting to betray them any further, but it seemed that your face had revealed enough. “Married?” Spencer whispered, his mouth agape, shocked that you’d hidden a committed relationship for the course of an engagement too.

“Let’s go ask Hotch who it is!” Decided Penelope, prompting Emily and Derek to stand up in unison. “Wait, why Hotch?” “He’s the supervisory special agent. They usually know those details about their agents.” Explained Spencer. “Oh.” Emily and Derek both shot you the same look, squinting their eyes at you suspiciously. “Right, let’s go ask!” You announced, pushing yourself off your chair as you slid your ring back on.

You watched as Penelope, Derek and Spencer walked ahead of you, but Emily stayed back, her hand curling around your wrist. “Hotch?” She whispered. You blankly stared at her, guilt painting your face. “Let’s go ask Hotch.” You repeated.

You pushed past the agents lingering in Hotch’s doorway, moving to sit on the leather couch in his office. Derek and Spencer’s heads moved to watch in astonishment as you slumped on your boss’ sofa, chewing on your bottom lip worriedly. “You know, I’m really starting to believe my suspicion is correct.” Noted Derek, before turning back to SSA Hotchner. “What suspicion?” Questioned Penelope.

“What are the five of you doing in here?” Hotch sighed, and you turned your gaze to stare at your lap, distracting yourself from everyone’s stares. “We want to know who y/n’s husband is.” Penelope declared, pointing at you. Hotch slowly turned his attention to you, and you swallowed thickly, shrugging your shoulders. “I forgot to take my ring off this morning.”

As though Hotch forgot he hadn’t been discovered yet, a fond smile made its way onto his face, causing your eyes to widen. “It is him.” Whispered Spencer with horror. “Him like Hotch?” Penelope looked around frantically, watching as you cringed softly, eyes still locked on your boss, sharing a look too intimate for him to only be your boss.

Your husband.

“Hotch is him!?” She shrieked, attracting the attention of JJ, who had been looking for the team, trying to call them up to the conference room. “Hey, what’s going on?” She asked softly, poking her head into the office. “These two traitors are married.” JJ laughed softly, but when no one broke character, she began looking around in confusion. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes, agent l/n and I are married. Or, agent Hotchner, should I say?" At the squeals that came from your coworkers at the confirmation, he playfully rolled his eyes. "We have been before Prentiss joined this team. Have been in a relationship since before Reid joined. We got engaged somewhere in between.” Penelope screamed at your husband’s confession, her jaw dropping to the floor. “It seems silly to slip up now.” You mumbled, spinning the ring around on your finger. JJ gasped again, moving past her coworkers to get a closer look at the ring on your finger.

“This must have cost a fortune.” She spoke in a gossipy tone, smiling wildly when she looked up at you. “Well, it was less of a fortune back then than it would be now. Inflation. Now everyone get out of my office.”

“Oh! We have a case, by the way.” Your coworkers dispersed into the hallway outside and Hotch travelled across the room, shutting his door closed for a moment alone with you. “I’m sorry, I forgot.” You apologised, bringing up your hands up to rest on Aaron’s abdomen. He tilted his head to the side with a smile, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy you get to wear it now.” “I forgot to take it off after dinner.” You reiterated.

“Well, if I remember correctly, we were quite busy after dinner last night.” You felt your cheeks go hot, and reached over to open the door of Hotch’s office. “Sweetheart?” You looked back at your husband, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Happy anniversary.”

[heavenlybodies333]

Fixation -A.H

Aaron Hotchner x coworker!reader

The unsub sat shackled at the table, hunched but humming—this low, breathy sound that made your skin crawl as soon as the heavy door shut behind you. You moved just slightly behind Hotch, and his presence blocked the man’s view of you for a moment.

But the second you stepped to Hotch’s right and sat down, the unsub locked in. Like he’d been waiting for you. Your breath hitched—barely—but it was enough. He noticed.

“Agent,” he greeted, smiling at you, not Hotch. “You’re prettier in person.” Hotch’s eyes cut to you immediately, picking up on the freeze in your posture. He turned back to the man, jaw flexing. “You already know that comment’s not going to help you.”

The unsub didn’t blink. Just stared at you. Your badge. Your neckline. Your hands. “Do you wear that lipstick for the job, or for me?” he asked, smile widening.

Hotch didn’t wait—his fingers snapped toward the one-way mirror. “Tighten the restraints. Now.”

Two guards came in instantly. One placed a firm hand on the unsub’s shoulder, forcing him down as the other jerked the cuffs tighter around his wrists, metal biting into skin. He flinched but didn’t yell. Didn’t even wince. His eyes were still on you, hungry, assessing.

You inhaled, then exhaled carefully. He wanted a reaction. You didn’t give him one. Until you had to lean forward and push the file across the table.

That’s when he moved. Just a shift. Just a lean. But it was deliberate—his face closer to yours than you liked, enough that your own twisted in disgust before you could stop it.

“Stop,” Hotch said, his voice dark, deadly. His tone was enough to freeze the unsub in place. Still, the bastard smiled. “You’re not gonna let her talk for herself, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch reached forward and took the file you’d opened, flipping it toward the unsub himself. His broad shoulders shifted, moving slightly in front of you again.

“She doesn’t need to,” Hotch said. “I already know what you are.”

“She’s better than the others,” he purrs. “You see it too. That’s why you walked in front of her. Like a shield. That’s sweet, Agent Hotchner. She deserves someone strong.”

You barely resist the urge to snap back. But Hotch’s hand reaches out—under the table—and briefly brushes your knee. A silent signal: Don’t react. Let me handle it.

“Why would I look at those,” he rasped, his voice low and oily, “when I’ve got her to look at instead?”

You froze. Hotch’s fingers twitched near his pen. His tone stayed flat. “That’s not how this works.”

“I already know all about her,” the unsub continued, still smiling. “She runs at five-thirty in the morning. Orders that lavender tea at the café across from the field office. Drives a black bmw. License plate ends in... seven-two-nine. Right?”

Your blood ran cold. You didn’t answer. You didn’t move.

Hotch stood abruptly. “You’re done.”

“No,” the unsub said, eyes still locked on you, smile growing. “I’m just getting started.”

Hotch was already at the door, signaling for the guard again. You stood slower, trying not to let the nausea show.

“You’ll speak to me,” Hotch said, voice a dark, contained growl. “Not her.”

“She’s the one I’ve been thinking about.”

“She’s not the one you're confessing to.”

“She’s the reason I started.” The unsub grinned, wild and victorious. “And she’ll be the reason I finish.”

You stood so fast your chair scraped backward, screeching against the floor.

Hotch turned to you instantly. “Agent,” he said quietly—his voice gentle now, only for you. “Step out.”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, jaw clenched.

His eyes searched yours for a beat longer than necessary, then nodded once.

The unsub chuckled. “Cute. Like a guard dog. I bet you like it when he barks for you.”

Hotch moved before you could blink. He was on the table, both hands planted, leaning in so close his voice was practically in the unsub’s ear.

“Say one more word about her,” Hotch growled, “and I will make sure your sentence includes solitary until you rot.”

Hotch’s hands were still flat on the table, his broad shoulders locked in tension. He didn’t move until he was sure the man’s mouth would stay shut.

“Guard. Get him out,” Hotch snapped, low and lethal.

The unsub laughed as the door slammed open behind you again. “You’ll think about me, sweetheart,” he called as they dragged him backward, wrists still bleeding from the restraints. “When you’re alone. When he’s not around to protect you.”

“Let’s go,” Hotch muttered under his breath to you, not even glancing back at the unsub again. His hand grazed your lower back as you turned—protective, firm, grounding.

You walked out together in silence, the door slamming shut behind you, drowning out the last of the unsub’s twisted chuckles.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice lower now, quiet. “You okay?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Just... hate how he looked at me. Like he knew me.”

Hotch nodded slowly. “He’s been watching. We found photos in his storage unit. Some were taken last week.”

Your stomach dropped. “Of me?”

Hotch hesitated. “Of your apartment. Your car. A few of you in your running gear.”

You swallowed hard.“I had no idea—”

“That’s not your fault,” Hotch said firmly. “He’s good at hiding. That ends now. I should’ve gone in alone.”

You turned toward him, surprised. “Why?”

His jaw tightened again. That same damn muscle. “Because I saw the look in his eyes when you walked in,” he said, stepping closer, voice low. “And I knew exactly what he was thinking.”

Your heartbeat stuttered. He paused, then stepped just a little closer.

“You shouldn’t go home alone tonight.”

That surprised you. “I wasn’t planning to.”

His brows lifted just a fraction. “Good. Because I wasn’t going to let you.” That made your heart skip. Not because of what he said—but how he said it.

“I’ll stay at a hotel,” you murmured.

He paused, then offered, “You could stay at mine.”

You looked up. His expression didn’t change. He wasn’t playing. Wasn’t flirting. It wasn’t about that. It was about keeping you safe.

“…Okay,” you whispered. “Yeah. That’s probably best.”

His shoulders eased slightly.

And it wasn’t long before you found yourself standing in the hallway just outside his bedroom door, suddenly uncertain.

Hotch stepped behind you again. Close. Just like in the interrogation room.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said, already reading your hesitation.

“No,” you said quickly. “You don’t have to.”

He paused. “I want you to feel safe.”

“I do,” you whispered, looking back at him. “With you.”

“I’ll get you a shirt,” he murmured.

A moment later he returned and handed you a long, soft cotton t-shirt—gray, plain, worn thin at the collar.

You took it with a grateful smile and went into the bathroom.

When you came out, you were swimming in the shirt. It hit halfway down your thighs. Your legs were bare. You had never felt so exposed in something so modest.

Hotch was already lying down, propped on one elbow, the comforter pulled up around his waist. He wore a black t-shirt and soft plaid pajama pants. You had never, in your life, seen him so…human.

You climbed in slowly, tentatively. His side of the bed was warm. Yours felt cold.

It was awkward. Weirdly awkward.

And that’s when it hit you. A sudden, absurd giggle bubbled up in your throat.

Hotch turned toward you, brow furrowed. “What?”

You bit your lip, grinning. “Nothing. It’s just—” You gestured vaguely at him. “Seeing you like this—in actual pajamas—? It’s adorable. I’m sorry, I can’t unsee it.”

He stared for a beat, expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, worried you might’ve crossed a line.

But then—then—he smiled. That small, rare curve of his lips that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“Oh?” he murmured, turning fully toward you. “You think I’m cute?”

“Don’t twist my words,” you warned, still smiling. “You’re intimidating as hell at work.”

“But not now?”

You looked at him—really looked—and swallowed hard. “No. Now you’re…”

Your voice faltered.

Hotch’s hand lifted slowly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Safe,” you whispered. “You feel safe.”

His fingers didn’t move from your face. “I want you to feel safe,” he said softly. “Always.”

You exhaled shakily. “Even now?”

“Especially now.”

He curled it around your waist and slowly, slowly pulled you into him.

His body was so warm—heat radiating off him like a furnace—and you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. His chest was solid, his hold careful. Too careful. Like he didn’t trust himself.

You nestled into him, your nose at his shoulder, cheek resting against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You smiled against him.

“You’re tense,” you whispered.

“I’m not,” he said immediately.

“You are, Hotch,” you laughed. “Your arm feels like it’s trying to protect the nuclear codes.”

His chest rumbled faintly in amusement. “I’m trying to be respectful.”

You smiled wider. “You’re letting me cuddle you. That’s pretty respectful.”

He didn’t argue that.

You tilted your head up slightly, looking toward the sharp line of his jaw in the dark.

“I’m not gonna combust if you relax.”

He didn’t say anything, but the arm around your waist loosened just a little. He exhaled—and the tension in his chest eased. Just enough to make you feel it. You took your chance.

You reached up slowly and ran your fingers through his hair.

At first, he flinched—just a twitch, barely noticeable. But then he stilled, letting you continue.

Your hand moved lower, smoothing down over his chest, then his shoulder, until it found one of his hands resting on his stomach.

His huge hand.

You picked it up gently, letting his fingers relax in your grip.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low.

You cradled his palm and gently cracked one of his knuckles.

He winced. “That hurts.”

You looked up, mock-pouting. “You’re supposed to say thank you.”

He chuckled. “For joint pain?”

“For your nerves. You’re all… balled up like a stress knot.” You moved to his other hand, gently stretching each finger. “And this one? This one’s the button-pushing hand. I bet it’s tired from dealing with assholes all day.”

He huffed out something that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

You tilted your head and reached up to brush your fingers through his hair—soft, thicker than it looked at work, with the faintest wave. He looked down at you, stilling completely under your touch.

“You’re really bad at relaxing,” you whispered.

“And you’re really good at tempting me,” he said softly.

You leaned in again, closer this time, your legs brushing. His arm came around you slowly, tentatively, drawing you toward his chest until your head rested just below his collarbone.

You exhaled shakily. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice low and quiet. “Just… not used to this.”

You tilted your head to look at him. His expression was unreadable in the low light, but his jaw was tight.

“Your hands,” you said quietly, lifting one of them between your palms. “They're so big.”

His brows lifted slightly. “That a problem?”

“No,” you said, voice dipping. “It’s hot.”

He huffed a soft laugh, but his thumb rubbed lightly across your side. You turned his palm over and started gently cracking his knuckles again. One by one. Each pop was soft, and you smiled as you moved to the next.

But when you got to his index finger and pressed just enough—

“Mm—hey,” he winced, pulling his hand back slightly. “That actually hurts.”

You blinked. “Seriously? You wrestle unsubs to the ground, but you can’t handle me cracking your knuckles?”

“I don’t wrestle people who sneak up and break my fingers.”

You laughed again, more relaxed now, and leaned in close enough that your nose brushed his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you said with a smirk. “You’re so delicate, Hotch.”

He turned to look at you, and this time, he was smiling. Really smiling. Barely-there dimple, soft eyes, warmth radiating from him.

“You think I’m delicate?”

“I think you’re secretly a marshmallow,” you whispered, inching even closer. “All this serious FBI Alpha Male stuff is just an act.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you, gaze dark and quiet and far too intense for the softness of the moment.

You swallowed. Suddenly very aware of how close you were. Of his hand on your waist. Of the warmth between you. Of the ridiculous oversize shirt that was definitely not a barrier. Not now.

“Is that what you really think?” he asked, voice so low it made your skin prickle.

You tilted your chin up slightly, your lips dangerously close to the line of his jaw. “Maybe.” Your hands in his hair, soft and uncertain, pulling him in closer. Your lips brushed again, then again—until it turned into something real. Something deep and needy and so full of everything you hadn’t said.

Hotch shifted, rolling you gently onto your back, his body hovering over yours, held up on one arm.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured against your cheek.

“I’m nervous,” you admitted, voice cracking just slightly. He didn’t answer. Just looked at you, gaze dark and quiet and far too intense for the softness of the moment.

Your heart stuttered. Your legs shifted, thighs tightening as you accidentally ground your hips slightly against his under the covers.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, grip tightening.

You surged up into him, kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slid a thigh between yours. His weight was comforting, grounding—and yet, your whole body felt like it was floating.

He pulled back slightly, lips brushing yours. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I won’t,” you whispered. “Not with you.”

Hotch’s mouth found your neck—slow and reverent, dragging warmth down your throat as he settled between your legs. His hands roamed cautiously under the hem of your borrowed shirt, palms warm and rough on your bare skin.

You moaned softly as his thigh slid between yours, pressing.

“You have no idea what it did to me,” he whispered into your skin, “hearing him talk about you like that.”

“I hated it,” you breathed. “I wanted to claw his face off.”

Hotch laughed. “That’s my girl.”

The words hit you straight in the core—made you shiver.

His hands moved beneath the shirt he’d given you, sliding along your bare thighs, up to your hips. When he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath, his breath hitched.

“Jesus,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look down at you. “You’re not wearing—?”

You flushed. “Didn’t feel like it.”

In one fluid motion, he sat up, his arms wrapping around you, mouth claiming yours again—hotter, hungrier now. You let him take the lead, let him slide your shirt up over your head and toss it somewhere off the bed. The way he looked at you then—like reverence, like worship—made heat pool between your legs.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped, fingertips ghosting down your spine. “So fucking beautiful.”

You gasped when he leaned forward, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking over it before he sucked—slow, teasing, patient. One hand moved between your legs, fingers brushing you just enough to feel the slickness there.

He tugged his waistband down just enough to free himself, and you gasped at the sight of him—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.

You reached down and gripped him, guiding his head to your entrance. The first brush made both of you groan.

The second his tip slid through your slick. “Fuck, sweetheart—look at you.” Hands tightening around your hips.

You lowered yourself slowly, inch by inch, your thighs trembling at the stretch.

“That’s it,” Hotch growled. “Take your time. I’ve got you.”

Once he was fully inside, you sat still for a second, breathing shallowly.

He brushed your cheek again. “Look at me.”

You did—and that’s when it changed. Because there wasn’t just lust in his eyes. There was something far deeper. Something that told you this wasn’t just sex for him.

You whimpered and leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, and the shift in angle made stars flash behind your eyes. He pushed up into you now, shallow, controlled thrusts that made your clit drag just right with every motion.

Your thighs trembled as you moved, your breaths turning into gasps. He sat up slightly, arms wrapping around your back, and you clung to him as you moved together.

“I’ve never…” you breathed against his neck. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone.”

He stilled inside you, holding you tight. “That’s because they didn’t deserve you.”

You clutched at his shirt. “But you do?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and reverent.

“I’m going to earn you,” he said. “Every day.”

Your heart cracked open. You kissed him with everything you had, hips rolling down onto him again, chasing that high, and he let you ride it out, guiding you with soft praise and firm hands and that warmth—God, that unshakable, grounding warmth.

And when you came, it was with his arms wrapped tight around you, his voice in your ear, whispering that you were safe.

That you were his.

a/n: raw.

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[tempobaekh]

texts with aaron hotchner and his younger unhinged girlfriend

author’s note: i'm considersing making this into like a series because i really fell in love with unhinged reader while making this and the choosing a theme part was so fun!! but anyways let me know if you guys want more of them?? also apart from a mention of reader being short there isn’t any specific appearance i had in mind while making this:)

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[finelinevogue]

kisses will make it better

summary - you think you’ve made aaron upset so decide not to tell him when you’ve been in a car accident

pairing - aaron hotchner x gf!reader

word count - 3k

Today was shit.

Like really terrible.

It was one of those days where nothing had gone right and you felt like the universe was caving in on you. From missing a meeting due to traffic to getting harassed by your boss again, there was nothing that had technically gone right.

Which is why you were calling Aaron on your drive home, because you knew he would make it better.

It was dangerous to rely on someone to make you feel better, but he was your person and there was no one you would rather speak to than him.

“Hotchner.”

You smiled as he always answered the phone the same way.

He said that people wasted time by looking at the caller ID rather than just answering the phone, so you were used to him never answering the phone any other way.

“Hi love.”

“Y/N?” He questioned and you had to chuckle.

“Who else would be calling you ‘love’?” You laughed.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Um,” You looked at the clock on your car dashboard, “Nearly 11PM.”

“Yeah, it is. Look, you know we’ve got a really busy case right now?” He sounded pissed off and it made your heart drop.

“Yeah, I just thought…” You gulped to swallow back the oncoming threat of tears.

You didn’t want to cry over something so trivial as making your boyfriend upset, but when you had had a day as bad as yours anything was a possible trigger. Especially when Aaron was supposed to be the person to listen and comfort you.

“So I need to sleep and I need this phone line to be open for the police detectives.”

You could hear what he wasn’t saying; ‘Don’t call me’.

“Okay.”

“Alright, bye.” And he hung up.

It felt kind of pathetic to cry, but the tears kept falling.

You sniffled as you let out a few shaky breaths. Your eyes tried concentrating on the roads but your tears were sort of blinding your sight.

Your bad day had just gotten even worse.

The one person you knew would have cheered you up had to go and let you down. It wasn’t really his fault. He did have a really big case at the moment that was really stressful, so any sleep he could get was important, but it would’ve been nice to just speak to him for a few minutes.

You pulled down the sleeve of your jumper over your hand so you could wipe away the tears from your eyes.

You were thankful to be stopped at a red light.

Leaning over into your glove compartment you picked out a packet of tissues and took one out so you could blow your nose. Crying always led to a runny nose.

Maybe you’d done something really terrible and that was why the world was taking it out on you. But what had you done?

Except for this morning, you were always on time for work. You put up with endless sexist and gross comments from your boss. You worked really long nights and early mornings just to get the work done. Working as an assistant for a CEO wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded, but it paid the bills.

So why did you deserve to have such a shit day?

That’s what you were hoping Aaron could have answered.

Now you had only gone and upset him too.

The light turned green and you gripped onto the tissue as you took a hold of the steering wheel to turn left.

There were bright lights.

A car horn sounded.

Your feet slammed hard on the breaks.

There was an almighty crash.

And then it all went black.

<.><.><.>

“Miss. Miss, can you hear me?”

Your head felt so heavy and your chest felt tight.

Your eyes were slow to open, but when they finally did they felt so heavy - as if they were being weighed down.

Then you noticed the blue and red flashing lights against the pitch black of night and the paramedic that was leaning into your car to talk to you.

She had a stethoscope pressed against your chest and kept calling out to you for a response.

Slowly it was all coming back to you.

“Miss, answer if you can hear me.”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Okay good.” She said, “You were in a car accident. Do you remember what happened?”

Instead of responding you let the tears fall. Now you were coming back around and things were coming into focus you started to feel how much pain you were in. The seat belt must have stopped you from flying through the front window, but it had definitely bruised your entire chest and rib area in the process. That’s why it was probably painful to breathe.

The lady ducked back out of the car then.

“She’s pretty shaken.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. She could have internal bleeding.”

“Okay let’s cut her out and slowly transport her to an ambulance.”

“Have you asked who we should call?”

Their voices were all a blur as your eyes grew heavier again. The tears in your eyes were making your focus blurry again. It hurt to even cry.

Aaron was going to be so mad.

He was on such a busy case and the last thing he needed was to hear his girlfriend had been in a car accident - a bad one at that. You promised yourself then that you would tell the emergency response people that you didn’t have any emergency contacts. You didn’t need Aaron coming down here.

Not that you didn’t want him, because God you did, but more that you didn’t want to add any extra stress for him.

He had a hard enough job as it was without looking after you too.

He needed his rest, so you would do this alone.

<.><.><.>

Garcia was hurried as she approached Hotch’s office.

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” Morgan asked from his desk as he watched his friend rush past.

“It’s Y/N.” She said and that’s when Morgan noticed the tears in her eyes.

Morgan shot up from his desk, as did Emily and Reid who had overheard the conversation. They didn’t ask questions, but did follow Garcia to Hotch’s office to listen in. It was clearly serious if Garcia was upset.

Garcia didn’t even knock before entering.

Hotch looked up from his desk, clearly unimpressed with the lack of knocking until he saw the looks on his team’s faces - especially Garcia’s.

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asked, clicking the lid on his pen.

“Sir, you know how you asked me to set up that system where if any immediate family relatives of ours were admitted to hospital then they’d flag on my system so we’d know?” She asked.

Hotch stood up immediately.

“Is Jack okay?” His heart sank.

“Yes, Sir, he is.” Garcia looked distressed still, “But Y/N was in a major car accident last night. Drunk driver hit her side of the car. Caused her car to be sent spinning across the road where it was then hit at the rear by a lorry.”

Hotch went pale. He felt like his heart had stopped beating.

“When?” Hotch picked up his phone.

No new messages.

Why had no one contacted him about this?

He was your emergency contact. He should have been notified about this.

“Accident happened last night at about 11:15. I only got the notification when I came in this morning, Sir.”

“She’s been in the hospital since 11:15 last night?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Where is she now?”

“I had a look and… seems like she’s been in surgery for most of the night.”

Hotch had heard enough. He was ready to go now.

“Prentiss and Morgan. Go to the police station and find out what you can about the accident. I want that drunk driver ID’d.” Hotch ordered and they both left the room immediately.

“Call us if anything changes, Hotch.” Morgan added and Hotch nodded.

Reid…” Hotch said.

“I’m coming to the hospital with you.” Reid said for his boss.

“I need you here to work the case with Dave.”

“Hotch, this will probably be the only time I say this… but no. I’m coming with you and no doubt Rossi will too. Y/N is our friend too.” Reid argued back and Hotch didn’t have to say anything else for everyone to know that he was grateful for it.

Hotch needed the support and he knew you would need it to.

Screw this case.

Family was more important.

“Garcia…”

“I have my computers scanning security footage as we speak, Sir.”

“Good.”

“Go get our girl, Sir.” Garcia said and Hotch wasted no more time before exiting his office.

<.><.><.>

“You can’t blame yourself, Aaron.” Dave said as he drove the car to the hospital.

Aaron had wanted to drive but Dave had disagreed. It would’ve been dangerous for him to drive at a time like this.

“I spoke to her 15 minutes before the accident, Dave.” Aaron said, his composure slowly breaking.

Dave didn’t add anything to the conversation because he knew this was Aaron’s way of opening up as to why he felt so guilty.

“I told her not to call because my phone needed to be open for the police detectives to call me.”

“You were sleep deprived Aaron.” Dave argued.

“That’s not an excuse.”

“Maybe not, but it was the truth.”

Aaron kept his gaze on the road in front of them.

This car journey had felt like the longest twenty minutes of his life. Then he thought about how long you must have been alone in your crumpled car until someone arrived - how long that must have felt. How scary that must have been.

“I can’t lose her too.” Aaron said.

“You won’t. She’s got a strength in her that not everyone does.”

Aaron wanted to smile at that because he knew it was true, but it was hard to smile when he didn’t have a clue what state he was about to find you in.

<.><.><.>

Aaron stormed into the ER.

He did a quick sweep of the room and walked to the front desk. His hands gripped the front desk like it was the only thing keeping him standing up.

“Y/N L/N.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“I’m here to see Y/N L/N. She was brought in late last night from a car accident.” Hotch explained.

“Let me see.” The nurse typed away on her computer.

Rossi and Reid came up behind Aaron as they also waited to hear what the nurse had to say.

Aaron’s team was like a family to him, which meant they were also a family to you. The team had taken a liking to you ever since they had seen how much you had positively impacted Aaron’s life. They had never seen him smile so much as when he was around you. You brought out the best in him and the thought of losing you meant losing their boss too.

“Are you Aaron Hotchner, Sir?” The nurse questioned.

“Yes.”

The nurse smiled sympathetically, “Miss L/N specifically told the doctors last night that we weren’t to contact you.”

“W-what?” Aaron furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’m her emergency contact.”

“We’re aware, Mr Hotchner.”

“S-so what?” Aaron tried to calm himself down because he knew it wasn’t the nurses fault, “That’s it?...”

“Miss L/N told us not to contact you, Mr Hotchner, so we didn’t. However, now you are here I don’t see any reason to hold you back any further. Just sign this ��sign in’ sheet, please.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said honestly, feeling both a wave of relief and anxiety.

Why had you told them not to call him?

Well, he knew why…

It was starting to feel like this was his fault. Doubts creeping into his mind as to whether he was the right person for you. It felt like no matter what he did, no matter how happy he became, he would always be tested in some way.

<.><.><.>

Reid and Rossi had gone to buy you flowers, leaving Aaron in the room alone with you.

It had been a shock to see you at first.

He hadn’t really prepared himself for how you might look, but he definitely hadn’t expected this.

You were bandaged like a mummy. Your head had a thick bandage wrapped around. Your hands were littered with plasters and gauze from where tiny bits of shattered glass had cut into your skin. He couldn’t see your chest but he had no doubts that the entire area would be black and bruised.

It made Aaron feel sick seeing you like this.

<.><.><.>

When you finally came around you felt lighter than you had before.

There was no seat belt cutting into your skin and you could breathe a little easier too. The bed you were laid in was really comfortable and someone had clearly dimmed the lights in preparation for you waking up.

Your eyes opened to find yourself in a hospital room.

The small window to the right told you it was a new day because it had been nighttime the last time you had seen the sky. Whether it was the next day or a couple of days was difficult to guess.

You looked down from the window to the small table.

There were six bunches of flowers of all different varieties. All of them had cards underneath them and you were eager to know who they were from.

The one that had a mathematical joke on had to be from Reid. The one that was covered in pink glitter was definitely from Garcia. The one that was clearly handmade had to be the work of Jack Hotchner. That one made you smile.

Your eyes went to the other side of the room where there was a chair facing your bed.

It was empty.

You knew who had been there, though, thanks to the blazer and red tie draped over the back of it.

Just as you started thinking about Aaron, you could hear your two favourite boys approaching.

“But I want to give the giraffe to her now, dad.”

“Ssh, ssh. We have to be quiet now bud, okay? Y/Ns sleeping.”

“But she’s been sleeping all day.”

“That’s because she’s poorly.”

“Oh, okay.”

Aaron and Jack entered the room a moment later, leaving the door open.

“Y/N!” Jack screamed in excitement when he saw that you were awake. He shuffled himself out of his dad’s hold until he was on the floor and running over to your bedside.

Aaron was ready to tell Jack off until he saw that you were in fact awake.

“Jack, careful.” Aaron said when his son started climbing on the bed.

“He’s okay.” You assured them both.

“Dad said you’re poorly.” Jack said.

“I guess I am.” You smiled at him.

“Does this hurt?” He pointed to the bandage on your forehead.

“A little.”

“Dad can kiss it better.” Jack explained like he was the certified doctor working in this hospital. It made you and Aaron laugh, which was probably the best form of medicine anyways. “Won’t you dad?”

Instead of giving a yes or a no response, Aaron came over to you and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. You couldn’t feel his lips, but his presence was enough to make you a little bit emotional.

He smelt like home and his closeness was so warm that you felt comforted.

Aaron kept his face close to yours as pulled away. He looked at you and noticed your teary eyes. His thumb reached your cheek to softly pad over the skin there - no doubt to check that you were really here and okay.

“Hey Jack, why don’t we go and get a chocolate bar for Y/N, hmm?” You heard Rossi’s voice behind Aaron.

Neither you or Aaron made a move from each other to check. Rossi must have taken Jack from the room because it went so quiet then.

Aaron kept his gaze on your eyes and you could see the sadness lost within them.

You hated to see him so sad. It was your weakness.

“I’m…”

“If you say you’re sorry I’m going to be really upset.” Aaron said quickly to cut you off.

You nodded, crying a bit more now.

“Thank you for coming.” You said instead.

“Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’ll always be here.” Aaron moved to perch on the bed beside you, careful not to bump into any sore part of you.

“How did you even know?”

“Garcia.”

“Of course” You smiled. Aaron smiled because you smiled.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being an asshole last night.”

“Aaron, love, I can see that you’re beating yourself up over this but it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you were kind of an asshole. I did need you last night, but you definitely didn’t cause this and I know you know that.”

“You’re too lovely.” He responded.

“I just won’t have you blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

Aaron nodded, “I’ll never not answer the phone again.”

“Okay.”

“But you have to promise to never block me as an emergency contact again. You hear me?” He said sternly.

“I do. It was kind of stupid of me.” You rolled your eyes thinking back now.

“Yeah it was.” Aaron gave you a small smirk, glad to hear you were okay enough to make a joke or two.

“I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Honey. I’m going to worry whether or not you are actually okay.”

“When I told the nurse to not call you she asked whether you were a crazy ex of mine.” You chuckled.

“You’re an absolute menace.”

“A menace that’s going to need lots of kisses to nurse me back to health.”

“Oh yeah?”

“That’s what Dr Jack said.” You shrugged.

“I better get started then.”

[augustjoy]

Is it my turn now?

Based on the following ask: Find the ask here! Basically Haley isn’t dead, she and Hotch had a civil divorce. Little baby Jack doesn’t understand that you (Hotch’s girlfriend) aren’t coming to the house for him, rather than his dad. With split parenting, Jack assumes that you are also not at Aaron’s house while he’s at his mom’s, because you come and go, unlike Haley who’s remarried.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader Fluff   Word count: 2344

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, unspecified age gap, mention of Jack, mention of Haley, divorce, coparenting, custody agreements, Jack being confused, use of y/n (listen it made more sense for the story!) mention of food/eating, let me know if I missed any. You are responsible for your own media consumption - if these warnings are triggering or potentially harmful, DO NOT READ.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hey dad, when is y/n coming over?” Jack asked.

“Oh, buddy she’s working today. I think she’s going to come by tonight.”

“Can you ask her?” Jack pressed.

“Sure bud.”

Aaron: Hey baby, you stopping by tonight? I miss you. Jack does too.

You: I miss you guys too! I’m off in an hour, I’ll bring dinner!

Aaron: You spoil us. See you soon.

You: I love you!

Aaron: I love you more

“She’ll be here soon Jack. She’s going to bring dinner.”

“YAY!!!” Jack cheered, running off to his room.

--

Nearly two hours later, you walked into the Hotchner home, takeout bags hanging from your arm. You’re barely in the door when Aaron comes over to you, placing a kiss to your lips and taking the bags from your hands.

“Hi sweetheart.” He greets you.

“Hey baby. I am so, so glad to be off for the weekend.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes.

“Well, the good news is, I am also off this weekend. Jack will be at Haley’s, so we will have the house all to ourselves.” Aaron pressed his lips to your neck teasingly.

“Y/N!” Jack shouted, running down the hall towards you.

“Jack! What has my little adventure partner gotten himself up to this week?” You laughed, picking him up and spinning him around.

“I made slime, and at school in art we made clay pots, they’re called pinch pots. And then Mike took me to see the new Spiderman movie, and it was so cool!” Jack rambled.

“You saw the new Spiderman, without me?” You gasped in mock hurt.

“That’s okay! I can watch it again with you! That way I can warn you about the scary parts!” He offered.

“Oh well that’s perfect, because you know how I hate scary movies.” You smiled and ruffled his hair before setting him back down.  “Alright cutie, I picked up food from Maggie’s diner and you know what that means.”

“Grilled cheese and French fries!” Jack cheered.

“That’s right bud!”

The three of you sat and ate dinner, Jack would ramble for a while before getting lost in his food, and in those moments, Aaron and you would catch up on your days.

“So, what do you want to do this weekend?” You asked Aaron.

“Wait. What do you mean?” Jack asked.

“What’s wrong bud?” Aaron looked over at Jack, confused.

“Why would Y/n be here this weekend?”

Aaron and you looked at one another, confused by Jack’s questioning.

“I’ll be at mom’s house, so why would you come over?”

“Oh, sweetie, I’ll be here to spend time with your dad.” You explained.

“But why?”

“Jack, buddy, Y/n is my friend remember, so she and I are going to spend time together this weekend while you’re at your mom’s house.” Aaron explained further.

“That doesn’t make sense. She’s my friend.”

“Yeah, sweetie, I am. But I am your dad’s friend too.”

Jack seemed displeased but ultimately let it go. For now.  

--

That weekend you and Aaron barely left the house, spending every waking moment wrapped up in one another. It was rare for you to have aligning time off, and Haley had been generous enough to take Jack for an extra weekend just so the two of you could spend time together.

Haley had liked you from the moment you met. She saw how good you were with Aaron, how you grounded him and kept him young. When you’d asked her if things would be weird she reassured you, telling you that the two of them had been so young and in the end they’d only been together out of convenience, so they called it quits when jack was about a year old.

That was about six years ago now, and you and Aaron were going on two years together. Haley married a nice man named Mike; he’s a realtor. Everyone got along really well, things were amicable all around. Aaron made sure he was serious with you before introducing you to Hayley and asking if she’d be okay with Jack meeting you…he followed the same courtesy she’d offered when she met Mike.

--

“Hey mom?” Jack began.

“Yeah sweetheart?” Hayley replied.

“Yesterday at dinner, Y/n and Dad said something confusing.”

“What did they say baby?” Haley asked.

“They talked about hanging out this weekend. But why would Y/n do that? She’s my friend and I’m not there.”

“Oh, well sweetheart, you know how I’m with Mike, well, your dad, he’s with Y/n.”

“No! You and mike are married; I was there. Dad said that Y/n was his friend.” Jack huffed.

“I know honey, but before Mike and I got married, we were friends.”

Jack stomped his feet before storming off to his room. Haley shook her head, slipping her phone out to text Aaron.

Haley: Hey, sorry to interrupt your weekend. Jack seems upset that you two are hanging out without him. It might be time to explain that Y/n is your girlfriend.

Haley: I tried to tell him how Mike and I were friends before we got married, but he didn’t seem to like that answer.

Aaron let out a breathy chuckle at Haley’s messages, leaning across the couch to show you. You shook your head, unsure of how to reply. Aaron and you had been together for some time, and sure you’d talked about moving in and getting married and all the things, but you didn’t want to push, there was plenty of time and things were good.

Aaron: I’ll talk to him when he gets back.

Aaron: You and Mike are going out of town this week, right?

Haley: Yes!

Aaron: Just in case – if we get called away, you’re okay with Y/n looking after Jack?

Haley: Aaron, we’ve talked about this. Y/n is wonderful, I adore her, Jack loves her. I’m kind of shocked you haven’t proposed yet.

Haley: But yes, I am perfectly happy with her watching him.

Aaron: Thank you. I just wanted to check.

He shook his head. Haley had been bringing it up more lately, how he had yet to invite you to move in or propose. Truth is, he had the ring. He just wanted to make sure the timing is right. You’re younger than him, bright, just starting out, Aaron wanted to know that you were sure about this. About him.

--

Jack and you spent the week together. Haley and Mike had been on a little vacation, and Aaron was away on a case. That left you to pick him up from school and hang out with him at Aaron’s for the week. Things had been going well, you’d made a fort, baked cookies, gone swimming, bike riding, and today you were going to take Jack to a trampoline park.

“Hey there adventure buddy!” You called, rolling down your window.

“Hi adventure pal!” Jack giggled, slipping into the back seat.

“All buckled?”

“Yes!” Jack smiled

“Alright bud, today, we are going to the trampoline park!”

“Really?” Jack was shaking with excitement

“Heck yeah! Are you ready?”

Jack and you played at the trampoline park for a few hours before going to grab dinner at Maggie’s. You’d gotten him a grilled cheese with French fries and when he asked for a milkshake you didn’t have the heart to say no.

When you got back to Aaron’s, you saw his car parked in the driveway. You pointed it out to Jack and his expression soured, just a hair.

“What’s wrong buddy?”

“If dad’s here, are you gonna spend time with him?” Jack asked.

“Well, yeah, but you can hangout with us too sweetie.”

You parked and helped Jack out of the car, he held your hand until you got to the door. When you opened it, Aaron was coming back from the bedroom. A smile took over his face as he saw you.

“Hey guys!”

“Hey baby.” You walked over to him and gave him a tight hug. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too sweetheart.” He pulled away and turned to Jack. “He buddy! Did you guys have a good time this week?”

“Yeah, we had so much fun!”

That evening the three of you watched a movie, and when Jack fell asleep, cuddled into your side, Aaron scooped him up and carried him to his room. Closing the door gently before returning to the living room. You were sat on the couch, your legs bent at the knees, feet resting on the center cushion. You had long since changed into comfortable clothes and were just waiting for some alone time with Aaron.

“Is it my turn now?” Aaron asked.

“Your turn for what?” You laughed.

“To be your boyfriend?” He laughed. “It seems like my son is trying to steal that title.”

“Oh baby, maybe you should talk to him.” You pouted lightly. “He’s so sweet and we had such a good week, but we need to talk to him. To avoid breaking his little heart.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him in the morning.” Aaron looked over at you. “Now come here baby.”

You slid across the couch and into Aaron’s arms. He held you tight for a while, just the two of you. When your breathing started to even out, he suggested the two of you head to bed. You agreed with a sleepy nod, letting him pull you up and lead you to his bedroom.

You were a little more awake now from moving around, admiring Aaron from across the room. He turned to meet your gaze.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”

Aaron walked over and pulled the blankets down, allowing the two of you to slip under. You were quick to curl up to him, resting your head on his chest and your arm across his waist. His arm curling around your shoulder, just before he places a kiss you your temple.

“I love you Aaron, more than anything in this world. Jack and you are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

“Marry me.” Aaron blurted.

“What?” You shifted, resting your weight on your elbow so you could look up at Aaron.

“Marry me?” Aaron asked again.

“Are you serious? Because if you’re not, we can just pretend this never happened.” You rushed.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t serious. So, I’m going to ask one more time. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife and marry me?”

“Yes!” You straddled his lap and kissed him. “One hundred times yes!”

Aaron kissed you then moved to shift you off his lap. He moved swiftly across the room, reaching into his sock drawer. Your gaze followed him, jaw dropping the second you saw him pull the velvet box from the back, tucked neatly into a pair of his socks.

Aaron walked back over to you and sat before you, he held the box in front of you and opened it, revealing the most beautiful ring. A center, brilliant cut stone, with three smaller stones hugging either side. He pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, glancing up to see you looking, not at the ring, but at him. Tears rimmed your eyes, and a watery smile lit up your face.

“So would now be a good time to also ask you to move in?” Aaron laughed.

You sniffled through a laugh and nodded your head, throwing yourself into his arms.

--

The next morning, Aaron and you woke up early to make breakfast, that way you could talk to Jack together. You’d gone ahead and shared the news with family and friends via text, and Aaron had done the same, making sure to let Haley know as well.

You were just talking about the congratulations you’d been receiving when you heard the unmistakable sound of little feet padding down the hallway. Aaron shot you a pointed look as if to say we will talk more about this later. You knew that right now, you were going to have to have a tough conversation with Jack.

“Good morning buddy!” You greeted him.

“Hi Y/n! Are going on an adventure today?” He asked

“Maybe! But sweetie, your dad and I want to talk to you, is that okay?”

Jack nodded.

“Jack, you know how your mom married Mike?” Jack nodded again. “Well, I am going to marry Y/n.”

“You can’t.” Jack shouted. “She’s my friend!”

Aaron moved to speak but you cut him off. “I am your friend honey, but your dad and I, we’re dating. Like how your mom dated Mike before they got married.”

“No that’s different. Mommy and Mike live together; they share a room. Y/n you come here, and we play and watch movies and go on adventures.” Jack argued.

“Oh buddy. Y/n is here when you’re at your mom’s too. When she sleeps here, she and I share a room too. Y/n is going to come live with us here soon.” Aaron explained.

Jack crossed his arms and pouted.

“Sweetie, Mike is your stepdad right?” Jack nodded, his pout deepening. “Well honey, I’m gonna be your stepmom.”

“NO! You’re my friend!” Jack ran off to his bedroom.

You slumped down into the barstool at the counter, feeling defeated. Aaron walked over to you wrapping his arms around you and offering reassurance. He’d told you that Jack was just going to need some time, but that he’d come around. It’s a lot for a seven-year-old to comprehend.

--

It took about three hours for Jack to exit his room; he’d found you and Aaron on the couch. Some show playing long forgotten on the TV.

“Are we still gonna go on adventures?” Jack asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You will always be my adventure buddy!” You smiled, opening your arms to him.

“Okay.” Jack said, moving into your embrace, hugging you tight.

Aaron smiled and moved in to join your hug, holding you both tight.

“Can we go see the Spiderman movie later?” Jack asked.

Aaron and you just laughed, ruffling his hair and agreeing to go.

Hotch Taglist: @bernelflo @pastelpinkflowerlife @just-moondust @khxna @crimesthatnooneaskedfor @juninnyxriddle

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

[bllushbunniie]

aaron deserves a little morning treat, right?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

fem reader, 18+, teasing, morning sex, reader is an evil cutie, face sittin fem receiving, slight breeding kink? not really tho you’ll see what I mean when u read it, Aaron turns into an evil cutie, and they both love each other——- pure smut, no context to this really ♡

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The house is bathed in moonlight and darkness when he arrives home. Y/N usually leaves the curtain open on nights like this- the moon calms her.

‘I just know she keeps you safe Aaron, when I’m looking at her- the moon, I always get the feeling she’s looking down on you, making sure you’re going to come home to me’

He recalls your little ramblings after lazing in bed with you, moonlight brightening the room, just as it is now.

It was the first time you really connected, y’know, in that way. He’s still a little shy when thinking about the both of you in that situation.

Years of professionalism that turned into friendship, which naturally evolved into romance. Years in which a lot of tension was repressed. And he intends to rectify that every chance he gets.

Especially now that he’s walked in on you, fast asleep, white cotton panties and a cute little tank top.

He can’t feel guilty for the thoughts going through his head right now, look at you. Cute little bum practically begging him to take a quick swipe at it, your gorgeous hair splayed behind you waiting to be tugged back to reveal your beautiful, beautiful neck so he can kiss and lick around your tender spots, trying to find that little spot that makes you make that delicious sound-

Enough. He’s way too tired, and you’re way too asleep for anything to happen right now.

He’ll just take a quick shower and come to bed and cuddle you.

Hopefully it’ll help the tension filling his lower body.

~

You haven’t moved from your spot once he joins you in bed, sleepy girl.

You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.

He loves being the one to make you sleepy.

He very quickly buries his thoughts and opts to snuggle you as close as he can instead. The scent of your hair ought to send him right to sleep.

-

So your plan clearly hadn’t worked.

Your boyfriend leaves you for a whole week, and you wearing your cutest panties couldn’t tempt him.

You just wanted to wake up with his handsome face between your thighs, is that so bad?

Instead, you’re waking up with his face buried in your neck, little snores coming from him. At least his arms were holding you tight to him. So tight you could feel all of him.

God, even just him being in your bed got you going, but him holding you, keeping you close and safe- it’s not your fault that you now have a small little wet spot dampening your panties.

You felt a little evil, he was clearly exhausted but your mind wouldn’t stop coming up with ways to have your way with him!

You could wiggle against him, pushing against his cock until his body woke him up. Maybe once he was awake, he could hold your panties to the side, and rock into you until you both reach your peak.

Or.. hmm

You’re allowed to be a little evil right? Aaron loved when you were a little tease.

You unraveled his arms from around you so you could rise from bed. Very quietly scanning your room to find your matching knee high socks. He loved these.

You approached his side of the bed, smirking slightly, his hair styled by sleep, face peaceful- it was time for him to wake up and give you your attention.

‘Mmm, wake up Aaron’, you whisper, giving little kisses to his neck, jaw and then cheek.

‘Hmm?’, instinctively reaching up to caress your waist. He was a little confused, he was still pretty tired but the feeling of little kisses and little wiggles were giving him the sweetest morning alarm.

‘You’re in trouble, Mr Hotchner’, you tease.

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Mhm, you’ve been so cruel to me. Leaving me all alone…’

You continue your kisses, wickedly missing his lips. It was fun seeing him lift his sleepy head up to chase your lips. Makes your want to sink your teeth into them and make him moan.

‘C’mon honey, gimme my good morning kiss,’

Urgh, he’s so yummy.

Leaning down, ever so slowly, you reach his mouth, not connecting your lips just yet. You lean in closer and then further away every couple of seconds- each time pulling away and he pushes his face closer.

You little tease. He thinks to himself, but all he can verbalise is a slight huff- due to that fact you’re running your hands all over his chest and you’ve finally dropped your hips down on his, there’s no way he can think of anything else, the blood has gone from his head.

Both of his hands now are on you, feeling the small of your waist, how it curves out to your hips, other hand sweeping your hair away so he can drag that little strap further down your shoulder.

‘Oh, I don’t think so, baby. Hands off’, you ordered.

‘You’re going to keep them.. right… here, and you’re not going to touch unless I say so, got it?’

He lets you move him, he loves when you manhandle him. He also loves it when you get like this, because it always ends up with you having your way with him. The best sight is you using him for your pleasure.

You pin his arms above his head, then lean back. Urgh, you’re saving this view in your memory. Looking down, you can see his underwear barely disguising his arousal, his chest rising with exaggerated breaths and a sleepy smile still on his face.

Reaching down, you inch his sleep top up his stomach, intentionally letting your nails drag along his lower stomach- his hips start stuttering under you. More intense pressure builds between the connection of you two.

It just adds to the sensation the feeling of your wetness leaking through your panties and onto his underwear.

‘Mm, Aaron, can you feel that?’ you giggle, you’re not trying to tease him, it feels too nice for that- it feels dirty. You want him to feel your want for him, you want him to feel what’s all for him.

‘I waited for you aaall night, you know that? I missed you so so much.’

Tugging his top all the way off of his body now, throwing it to god knows where, positioning your hands back down to hold his arms to the bed.

Finally, you tilt yourself down, letting your lips fully meet for the first time in a week. It’s soft and wet, slightly- minty? Mm, worth waiting a week for.

You can tell he wants more, he’s edging his tongue ever so slightly into your mouth, trying to make it dirtier- of course you follow along, opening your mouth to him, letting the room fill with the wet, yummy sounds of you making out.

The little facade is fading, you didn’t want to tease any longer, you want, no need his hands all over you again. He knows it too, he knew it’d crumble once he got into it deeper with you- you’re a needy girl really.

‘Oh, I’m allowed to touch you now, baby?’

You love the way the way he talks to you, especially when he lowers his voice like that- it’s got a slight softness to it though, manly, domineering but so loving, it just gets you all the more wet.

He guides your hips with every rock of them, squeezing, using his thumbs for more leverage.

‘Right, honey, enough of this, up’

‘Huh?’ You’re too dazed by his dirty kisses to fully understand what he wants at first.

He’s encouraging you off of his lap, further up his chest.

‘You really think you can get away with waking me up with your little kisses and wiggling hips, looking like a little goddess? You’re cute, honey, now up, and sit.. right here’

Aaron doesn’t even need to use a quarter of his strength to lift your entire body onto his face, immediately placing your pantie clad clit directly on his nose. Urgh he has such a good nose for this, you think to yourself as your hips start to react to the sensation.

Feeling his tongue lick over the little wet spot you’d made just for him, it was unbearable. Clear moans finally fell from your mouth, high pitch squeals every time he pushed your hips, your pussy further into his face. It was like he was starving. He was just trying to make a bigger mess of you, spreading your concealed wetness all inside your panties, making you so slippy. A perfect condition for him to take one hand from your hip to pull your panties to the side so he can finally eat you without constriction.

Licks from his tongue after cruelly eating you over your panties was such a delightful feeling. You could feel the warmth of his tongue, the force of his greedy tongue searching for more of your wetness.

‘Mm, honey, hold your panties for me’. You were steadying yourself with one hand in his hair, the other on the headboard; untangling your fingers in his hair, you did as you were told, you were completely under his spell, you’d do anything he told you to do. Replacing his hand with your own, shuddering slightly when your fingers touched your most sensitive place.

Chuckling at your reaction, he paused his incessant mouth to tease.

‘Sensitive, baby?’

More, more, more was all he was thinking.

Dragging his blunt nails up your thighs around to your hips, he dove back in now pressing up even closer, taking over control of your body, your movement, he needed to take you to the edge himself. It was all he’d been thinking about when he was away with work. How he wanted to watch you fall apart on top of him, or under him- he doesn’t really care specifically about which position, all positions have their pros.

But this, this position was a favourite.

Vulnerable on top of him, chasing your pleasure, the soft of your tummy curving and dipping upwards to the swells of your breasts, nipples hard with arousal. He’s so lucky he gets to see you from this angle.

You let him grind your hips for you until you release all over him, moans getting that much louder, body shaking with a tension that was finally being released after a long week.

‘I think you should just.. ~kiss~.. stay right here baby, yeah? ~kiss~ Stay, and let me lick into you for a bit longer?’

You weren’t going to be able to escape his tight hold, even if you wanted to- so you let yourself fall into the feeling of overstimulation. Hand still holding your panties away from your core, the other hand slaps over your mouth to prevent louder squeals.

‘Please Aaron, too much, too sensit— Aaron, mm!’

Oh he was absolutely not letting up on you now, your hips had lost their rhythm, they were jerking every which way and it was sublime.

Sensitive girl.

Sensitive, warm girl. Your cum now leaking that much more, warming his mouth with your honey.

Warmth was creeping like fire over both of you, your whole entire body felt flushed- embarrassed over how sensitive you were and how fast he made you cum.

‘Inside please, Aaron, please?’

He loved how sweet and polite you were, even when you were completely undone.

Sweet, right to your core.

Letting up on his grip on your hips, you slump off of him, falling just to the side of him.

A ‘beautiful girl’ falls from his lips.

You take the opportunity to smush your lips together in an exhausted thank you. You could taste yourself on him.

‘Can you please fuck me now?’ You implored.

Another chuckle falls from him, you were so cute, bringing out the manners like he’d ever say no, like you had to convince him.

‘Lie back for me, angel girl’.

Once you were laid back, hair splayed around you like a halo, he undressed you like it was second nature, but pausing for a second when he felt the slight resistance from the gusset of your panties. It never got old, uncovering your pretty, wet pussy- all prepared for him.

Your wetness aided in the swiftness in which he entered, he practically slipped all of the way into you.

‘You’re so slippy, baby’

‘So, wet’

‘Mm, clenching around me too? You like the way I talk to you? Like the way we feel together’

Taunt-like compliments fell from his mouth as he thrusted into you.

Yes, god, you did like the way he talked to you, a little too much. You were only a few thrusts away from another orgasm.

Eyes squeezed shut, lovely moans falling from your lips.

‘I can feel you tightening baby, hold on for me’.

Yeah, like you can hold it when he feels this good. It didn’t matter because you knew exactly what would get him to release. Release inside of you where it belongs.

Scratching your long, manicured nails up his back and digging them into his shoulders had him pushing and finishing inside of you. Him filling you, and the friction of the base of his cock against your clit had you clenching in orgasm with him.

Whimpering, you locked your legs around him to keep him close- trying to bring him closer so you could hear his delicious moans right up close.

Giggling after your muscle spasms cease.

‘Mm, I missed that’.

‘It should be illegal to leave your girlfriend for that long, Aaron. You make me feel too good’. Pouting as he stabilises himself you hover above you and dedicate all his attention to your face.

‘Worth waiting for?’ he questioned, stroking your baby hairs away from your sweaty, flushed face.

‘Mhm, always is.’

-

After basking in your post orgasmic delight, he disconnects from you with a tremor, both of you hissing at the feeling. He got to see his favourite sight- his cum leaking from you.

God, he felt so dirty but he doesn’t stop himself from holding your lips open to see more of him drip out of you.

‘Aaron!!’

He just smirks. He knows you love it too. He recalls the times where you beg for him to fill you, to keep it inside of you- he also knows you love it because he can see your spent little hole clench and unclench under his gaze.

Finding your panties from the floor, he drags them up your legs, covering your messy pussy with the already messy panties.

‘You’re so naughty, Aaron.’ you flirt at him as he covers your breasts back up, pulling your top back down over you.

‘Since you got me all sticky, do you want me to bring breakfast?’ You question, climbing off your little love nest.

He’s enjoying the view far too much, you’re all bouncy and happy, you practically skip around the end of the bed, leaning over.

‘And then, handsome, we can both get clean in the shower, how does that sound?’

All he can do is flop back down, arms behind his head with a big, bright smile in his face.

‘Sounds perfect, lovely girl’.

♡.

[pencil-n-pen]

HANDLE WITH CARE

₊˚⊹

──────────────────────

hotch x fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: spending the night at aaron’s usually puts you at ease, but not tonight. A broken mug brings up old memories, but he still has a way of soothing away old hurts.

cw: implied/referenced past abuse

a/n: honestly idk i just wanted to write hotch comfort. this has been in my drafts since like day 1 of this acc

──────────────────────

⊹ .

It’s really stupid, in hindsight.

In the moment though, it was really, really scary.

It was late. This is mistake number one.

You were trying to quietly make tea and whatever odd hour it was. You can’t check the oven timer. It just keeps flashing 12:00.

Making tea quietly is hard, though. Every sound seems to echo and all the shadows seem to crawl. You’re this close to closing the living room curtains you can see from the corner of your eye. You don’t, though. Not being able to see would be worse.

Anyway. You’re trying to make tea quietly. You’re staying over at Hotch’s —Aaron’s, as he insists you call him when you’re alone— Jack is away at a sleepover. It’s just the two of you.

You couldn’t sleep. Usually, being with Hotch is the strongest sleep aid in the world. You tend to conk out the second your arms find his in bed.

But not tonight.

Tonight you slept in fitful bursts. Your skin prickled and crawled with restless anticipation- of what, you’re not sure.

Not wanting to disturb his sleep on such a rare day off, you got up. Tried to do what you did when you had nights like these before him. Only watching tv is too loud and you don’t have any books here.

Thus: tea.

It started raining a little while after you got up. The pattering of the droplets against the roof and the windows helps drown out the racket you’re making.

You’re not really making a racket, you tell yourself. It just sounds like you are because it’s night. This would all sound normal in the daylight.

It’s the mantra that keeps you going on nights like these. You’ll feel normal in the daylight. It’ll go away in the daylight. You won’t feel so haunted in the daylight.

In the daylight, in the daylight, in the daylight.

You get lost in your thoughts. It happens fairly often on nights like these.

Only Aaron’s stove is newer than yours. It heats up faster.

The teapot lets out a terrible, wailing hiss, shattering the fragile silence.

You lunge for the kettle, hands moving too quickly and too clumsily to move it off the burner. Your fingers slip. The side of the kettle slams into your forearm, and you don’t quite manage to stamp down the pained yelp that rips its way from your throat the second the searing pain registers.

Your nervous system reacts before you do. It jerks your arm to the right, away from the kettle.

And into your empty mug.

You watch in horrified slow-motion as the cup is swiped off the counter, falling to the floor in an explosion of porcelain.

Your arm is screaming in pain. There is boiling water and a hot tea kettle on the floor. There are shards of mug everywhere.

You hear a thump. The creak of a door opening that signifies Aaron coming out of the bedroom, Aaron being awake, Aaron coming to you.

For a moment, your brain just… catches. Sort of like it gets stuck in this web of fear-induced indecision.

The footsteps sound rushed. They come closer.

To compensate for the momentary freeze, your brain kicks into its highest gear.

You drop to your knees on the floor of the kitchen so quickly they crack on the linoleum. You can’t tell if the sting is from the fall or the boiling water. Would it still be hot? Is it still hot?

The footsteps stop. You scramble to get a hold of the pieces of the mug, shaking fingers grabbing, grabbing, grabbing. They’re clutched tight in your palm when you speak, words rushed and tumbling out of your mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, please go to bed, I’ll clean this all up—“

A hand reaches out for yours and you flinch. Not a full body one. Just like what happened with the burn. Your nervous system reacts before your brain can process. Takes your hand away from the threat.

Only the hand stills. Stops, right where it is, and your entire body feels funny, and something doesn’t seem right.

Then you stop too. You don’t move. You don’t grab more pieces of the mug, but you don’t drop the ones you have either. Your knees are throbbing. Your arm is burning, stabs of stinging pain pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

The hand retreats and the person crouches down, and you recognize those pajama pants, that hand, those feet.

“Honey?”

You keep your eyes trained on the mess. On the wreckage.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks over the words.

“Shh,” He hums, and the hand reaches out again, slower, closes over your wrist and turns your hand over. A second hand pries your fingers apart and gently shakes your hand, the mug shards dropping to the floor, tinged scarlet. They mix with the spilled water, washing the kitchen floor a kaleidoscope of linoleum and sharp edges and pinky-red water.

He gently pulls you up to your feet, strong arm going around your waist. It doesn’t cage you, doesn’t box you in. Another hand turns your head away from the kitchen floor and all at once a switch flicks in your brain, and you remember. Where you are, who you’re with.

If Aaron notices your sharp intake of breath, he doesn’t say anything. He leads you to the bathroom, sits you on the toilet lid, and pulls out the extensive first aid kit he keeps under the sink.

“Can I see your arm?”

You hold it out to him, looking at his face only when he’s not looking at you.

He doesn’t look mad. You still have the vague urge to run.

He examines it carefully. “It’s only first degree, but it’s fairly big. We’ll need to run it under cool water for at least ten minutes, and then apply some burn cream and bandage it.”

He’s telling you exactly what he’s going to do. Talking you through all the steps. So you won’t be caught off guard by anything.

“Sweetheart,” He crouches down in front of you again, and you feel bad for his knees, “I’m going to need some sort of confirmation.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” Your voice is raw, “I think I bruised my knees when I— when I fell.”

Your pajamas consist of an oversized shirt —one of his— and a pair of pajama shorts. It’s helpful because he doesn’t have to roll up any pant legs to check your knees. It’s unhelpful because in the adrenaline crash, the bathroom is cold, and so is the toilet lid.

Your shivers of fear are replaced with ones of cold. A small but marked improvement.

He examines your knees, thumbs brushing deftly over the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Looks like you might’ve cut one of them on one of the pieces. It’s not too big, though. Better than your hands.”

You wince at the mention.

He stands, pulling you up with him.

“What hurts the worst?”

“Burn.”

“We’ll take care of it first.”

He turns the sink tap on, checking and double checking the temperature is to his approval before gently guiding your arm under the water. It stings on first contact, and you bite your lip through the pain. You’re sure you’ve made enough noise for the night. The pain mellows, relief following hot on its heels.

Aaron stands behind you, his presence a solid weight. One hand holds your arm in place under the water, the other hovers over the faucet, ready to make any adjustments to the temperature at your word.

You don’t make any.

You’re tired, abruptly. Your hand still stings and your knees ache, but without the sharp stabbing of the pain in your arm, the exhaustion of the past five minutes rushes into you all at once and you sag, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Aaron catches you, hand over the faucet leaving to place a steady hand on your waist.

“You’re not going to hit me. Or yell at me.”

He presses his face into the back of your neck, not so much as kissing your nape as just pressing his lips against the skin there.

“I’m not.”

“I know that,” you say, going for confident but tripping and falling into desperate, “I know that. I was just. I forgot. In the moment, and I got scared.”

The hand on your waist squeezes once.

“I was scared too, you know.”

“Why?”

“Because you were scared,” You can feel his chest vibrate as he speaks, “And you were hurt. And for just a moment, I didn’t know how to help you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry for. I was scared for you.”

“I know, I’m just. I know how rare days off are for you, and I was trying to be quiet, so you could sleep but I—“

“Hey, hey. Slow down. Don’t work yourself up.”

He moves your arm back and forth under the water, slowly working the angles of the burn so it all gets evenly cooled.

“Sorry,” You say again, both for lack of anything else to say and just to make sure he knows that you are. Guilt pulses and pounds to the same beat as your heart, to the same rhythm as the pain in your knees and your hands.

“I know you are,” He murmurs, voice a gentle wash of concern and something tender. He always knows just the right thing to say, especially when you’re like this. “But you don’t have to be. I’m not upset.”

“I know,” You answer, and this time he doesn’t respond. He probably knows that your words weren’t for him.

He works methodically through applying the cream and bandages, and then as he fixes up your hands and knees. You’re careful to keep your eyes trained on his, focusing on the feel of his hands and not the fear that jackrabbits in your chest every time your focus slips.

Once finished, he guides you to your feet, and there’s still concern etched in the lines of his face, right in between his brows. That’s where he always keeps it— his worry.

“Do you want to go back to bed?”

You could. You should. He’s tired. He deserves to sleep in and you should be able to fall asleep again, because he’ll be there, and everything is fine, and you are fine.

But there’s still pieces of mug on the floor and you feel like there’s pieces of you stuck there too, and your mouth goes dry, and you never did drink that tea, and what’ll happen to the mess? What will things look like in the daylight?

Foolish? A foolish girl, yes— always overreacting.

“Honey?” He says for the second time tonight.

Your face crumples. “I’m sorry.”

He folds himself around you again, easily. His arms slot into place like a puzzle piece- always the right angle, the right feel, the right amount of pressure. He holds you together as you cry, frustrated and tired and all the things you’d tried so desperately not to let show.

“You’re okay,” He whispers, hand smoothing over your neck, your back. All those vulnerable places that itch. “You’re okay.”

He repeats the words as your cries quiet to sniffles, as you start to think he might be right.

You pull away, wiping your hands across your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what— I’m okay now, I think.”

His eyes search your face, looking for any signs that isn’t true. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“I know,” You say, and you really do believe it this time, “I just… it’s frustrating. That this still happens. That you still need to do this. It happened so long ago, and I don’t even think about it anymore, really. It’s weird, it’s just- the mug. It broke and I just… I don’t know.”

Aaron listens attentively to your rambles, no sign of being annoyed or exasperated or anything. “I understand. Healing isn’t linear, sweetheart. There are things that happened to me many years ago that I still think about.”

He dips down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “And I will always do this. Always.”

For the first time tonight, you believe him, fully.

You’ll be okay. Maybe not now, but you will be.

۫ ꣑ৎ

[headkiss]

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

[hotchnersangel]

PICK A COLOUR

Aaron Hotchner

In which, Aaron Hotchner loves his girl and wants to match her in every way and especially through the intimacy of nail art.

cw: nailtech!reader, fluff, private relationship, curious bau team members

Aaron Hotchner, the brave, intellectual and ever so masculine man was completely comfortable in his masculinity. He wore a suit to work, was in a very fit condition due to his active and strength driven job of Unit Chief at the BAU. However, if you had told him a few years ago that he would fall hopelessly in love with a nail technician and bend to your every will, he would smile at the opportunity to have such a love that consumes him through his core, encouraging him to do whatever he can to please you. He liked the thought of having someone to care for and he liked it even better that it was you he could care for.

The moment Aaron met you, he knew you were special. He admired you in every way possible. Your perfect imperfection, your quirky style, your desperate desire to make others content and happy through your acts of generosity and kindness. He adored everything about you and frankly, he couldn’t remember life without you. He didn’t want to.

He admired your talent for art, especially how every-time he left for a case- he would return and find you painting you nails with another crazy, bright and beautiful design. He loved your passion towards your job.

He used to hate the smell of nail polish, with Haley growing up, he would frown at the smell of it enticing the house or her bedroom.

Now however, it made him smile because the smell reminded him of you.

Aaron had returned one night from a case, utterly exhausted and eager to get home and see his girl, curl up on the sofa and talk about how eventful your days have been. He walked through the door, placing his keys in the jar, taking off his coat and hanging it up before heading into the living room. You were sat there, sprawled across the couch, hunched over the coffee table, a towel beneath your hands and that familiar scent of nail polish. There was a random sitcom playing on the TV, providing you a background noise as you stare intently between the brush in your hand, your tongue slightly sticking out as you focus intensely on your nail design.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m home.” He announces with a smile, admiring the sight before him. The lights casting a warm glow over your figure with the reflection of the TV in your glasses.

You look up briefly, a large grin sporting your face. “Hello you.”

Aaron smiles at you, loosening his tie. “Good day?”

You smile back at him and nod, “go get changed we can talk about it after.”

“Getting rid of me already?” He retorts with a tilt of his head.

“When you smell like paperwork and world conflicting ravenous monstrosities of the human race, yes.” You wink playfully at him and he chuckles shaking his head.

“Always a way with words,” he shakes his head softly with a smile, starting to walk into the bedroom but stopping behind the sofa to kiss your forehead. You lean into his touch and sigh at the unspoken feeling of love.

Aaron changes into his ‘home attire’ and returns to the lounge as you start to screw the lid of your nail polish and admire your nails. Aaron sits himself beside you on the couch and looks at your nails. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you grin at him. A mix of stars, swirls and colour pops from your hands and adds colour into his dark and monotone life.

“Your nails too.” He arches a brow playfully and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Always a charmer you are, Agent Hotchner.” You smile with soft eyes as you look at him. “I’m so obsessed with stars at the moment.”

“I can tell.” He retorts and leans his body to face you.

“Sometimes I forget you are a profiler.” You shoot at him, blowing gently on your nails. “You probably know what colour socks I’m wearing.”

“I’d day yellow considering the colour of the star on your nails but you wore your red plaid jacket today so I’m saying red.” He says casually, looking down where you are now showing him your red fuzzy socks.

“I love that I’m dating a psychic.” You laugh softly and turn to face him now. “Or just a very fashionable individual.”

“I think I’m okay leaving that to you.” He grins and tilts his head. “Have many clients today?”

You nod and start listing off some of the nail sets you have done that day and he listens to every word falling from your mouth, ready to catch each one with open arms and an extremely open heart.

“I had Jamie come in again today, he is so cool let me show you his set.” You whip up your phone and show him the smiley face set you painted on your favourite client that day.

“I love them.” He smiles as looks at the photo. “Do you get many male clients?” He asks, not with any judgement, more so with intrigue and genuine curiosity.

You nod eagerly. “I do, probably 15% of my clientele.”

“You should do mine.” He offers casually and your eyes light up visibly, with shock and admiration to the offer.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” He smiles at you, seeing how happy you are at those words. “Nothing as crazy as the smiley faces though, I don’t think Strauss would enjoy that but…”

“Can we match?” You ask sheepishly, hesitantly verbalising the thought you’d been dreaming about for way too long.

“Stars?”

You nod and smile pleadingly at him and he nods in agreement, completely entranced by the beauty of the moment.

You grin and take his hand, reopening your polish bottle. “So, tell me about your day…”

…

The next day, Aaron goes into work with his subtle nail polish on his ring finger painted with a medium sized star. Honestly, he loved the intimacy of the gesture. It was a symbol of you being carried around not only within his heart but also outwardly flaunting you in a subtle way to his teammates.

Of course, they noticed.

“Did you see Hotch’s nails or am I just dreaming…” Penelope gushes to the team as they eye Hotch in his office.

“I think we all saw it.” Emily smirks and crosses her arm and she leans against Morgan’s desk.

“My man is whipped.” Derek motions a whip cracking with a cheeky expression.

“I’m just offended that he is hiding a talented nail artist from us… I’ve been looking for a new one for well… forever.” JJ shrugs, drinking her coffee mug.

“Let’s do some digging…” Penelope smiles, rushing off to her ‘batcave’, eager to find herself a new nail tech.

[yasministration]

nighttime vlogs - aaron hotchner

summary: finally on the jet ride back home, aaron watches the little nighttime vlog you and jack have filmed for him, allowing him to witness a special moment between the two of you despite being thousands of miles away wc: 1.6k+ cw: reader and jack being adorbs, aaron gets baby fever

The phone falls face down on the covers the second the video begins, darkness engulfing the screen of his phone, and Aaron’s ears are instantly filled with the beautiful sound of Jack’s loud giggles. Through the screen, he hears you mumble something under your breath, and Jack replies with “You made it fall”, as though you hadn’t realised the obvious.

You lift the phone up, steadying it back on some pillows, and even through the dim lighting of your bedroom, Aaron can clearly see that you and Jack are laying stomach down on a very unmade bed. He grins widely, pressing on his phone screen to pause the video you had sent him — hours ago now — to plug in his earphones. He doesn’t want to disturb any of his sleepy teammates on the jet ride home.

“Okay,” You begin with a smile, glancing over to Jack, who’s staring at you through the front camera on your phone. “Hi Aaron-”

“Hi daddy!”

Aaron feels his heart swell as you and Jack giggle between you. “We know it’s a little past Jack’s bedtime. But we just remembered that we promised you a little video message every night that you’re away. And tonight can’t be the night that promise is broken after we’ve done so well.”

It’s true. Ever since you were introduced into Aaron’s life, as his girlfriend, fiancée, one of Jack’s legal guardians, you had changed what it meant fore Aaron to be away on cases. No longer did Aaron have to try and catch you every second of the day for you to know he cares — a mutual understanding that schedules might crash, and that’s okay. But for the past year, every night he’s been away on a case, he has received a nighttime vlog from you and Jack, telling him about your day, about your feelings.

Aaron always watched these videos in the lonely bed of his motel room, a smile on his face. Sometimes these videos were a minute long, quick goodbyes from a tired child and his best friend, and sometimes — like tonight — they lasted closer to twenty minutes.

“Daddy, today me and y/n went to the park and we played football! And I won!”

“He scored so many goals against me.” You add, a hand reaching up to brush through Jack’s blond hair as he thinks of what to tell his dad next. “And then we sat on the grass for a little bit,” Jack is interrupted by his own elated giggles.

“And we saw a cloud that looked like a tyrannosaurus rex!”

“We did, yeah. And one that looked like a bunny too, right?”

“Yeah. All of the other ones were just blobs.”

Aaron can’t help but laugh quietly as Jack gestures widely with his hands. From the seat across him, Dave glances up from his book, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Jack suddenly sits up on the bed, and you shift to lay down on your side to watch as Jack points to the new set of pyjamas he’s wearing, talking animatedly about them. “But I only wore them after dinner.” He tells his dad through your phone.

“Tell him what you did today. In the kitchen.” You encourage, and Jack immediately grins wider, as though just remembering the events that occurred a couple of hours ago. “I helped y/n make dinner! Come, let’s show him, y/n!” Jack tells you, leaning over to grab your hand, and tugging you with him.

You bring the phone with you as Jack slides off the bed, leading you to the kitchen. You take the time to glance down at the phone, imagining Aaron looking back at you, and say “He chopped some coriander all by himself — with a plastic, kid-friendly knife, obviously. And he also squeezed a lemon.” Aaron didn’t know you owned plastic, kid-friendly knives.

Once in the kitchen, you place the phone on the counter, and Jack carries the bowl of salsa you had prepared together. He huffs when he can’t see the phone atop the counter, and places the bowl down, making grabby hands up at you. He ignores the stool he had previously used to help reach better, instead calling “Up please, Mom.”

Aaron’s eyes instantly go wide at Jack’s words, fingers stiffening around his phone, but it seems as though past you still hasn’t processed what Jack called you, picking him up and resting him on your hip. Only then, once Jack’s fully in the camera frame, does Aaron see your eyes go slightly wide as you hand Jack the bowl of salsa so he can display it proudly for his dad.

“Daddy, this is called pico de gallo, and it’s so yummy.” You instantly snap back into your role, nodding along to Jack’s words and he puts the bowl on the counter again. “And I wanted chicken nuggets all day, and mommy said she could make me some for dinner. And she made them from-she made them from the beginning of them.” Jack swings his legs happily, reaching over to the folded up bag of chips to open the bag and steal a chip.

Jack offers you one, and you take it. Aaron smiles fondly as you both go silent for a few seconds, munching on tortilla chips.

You glance down at Jack, asking “Anything else, buddy?” Jack goes silent, resting his head on your shoulder. He watches you fold up the bag again, blinking slowly. Grabbing the phone, you mumble to Aaron “If you come home tonight, there’s leftover salsa and chicken nuggets for you in the fridge.”

Aaron sighs as you place the phone down again, carrying the bowl of pico de gallo into the fridge. It shuts softly behind you, and you move your eyes down to Jack, who’s nearly asleep. “Bedtime, Jack?”

Jack nods sleepily, and you turn your focus to the phone again, saying “Goodnight, Aaron. I love you.” Jack turns his head to face the phone, cheek smushed against your shoulder as he repeats the words, encouraged by you. “’Night daddy. I love you.”

You snatch the phone from the counter, turning the light off in the kitchen as you make your way to Jack’s bedroom. Aaron doesn’t think you’re aware the camera is still recording as you press a kiss to Jack’s forehead, adding quietly “And I love you, Jack. I needed a strong, handsome man to help squeeze those lemons, and who better to help me than you?”

Jack giggles tiredly at your words. You toss your phone onto his bedsheets so you can use both hands to gently place him in his bed. You crouch beside him, fingers brushing his cheeks. “I’m so grateful for your help today, Jack. And for your help every day.”

“I like to help you.” He admits, cozying up underneath his blanket. “Kiss, mommy.” You lean down, pressing your lips to Jack’s forehead. He smiles, reaching up to press a kiss to your cheek. You bring your hands down to tuck him in properly, and tears are almost brought to your eyes when Jack speaks again, asking “Who’s gonna kiss daddy goodnight?”

Aaron swallows thickly through the screen, staring at the ceiling of his own home from the way the phone is facing upwards, only catching a bit of colourful bedsheets from the corner of the screen, but he listens to every word you and Jack are saying to each other. He only hears himself breathing now, and the scuffle of sheets moving around, awaiting your response. “When daddy comes home, we’ll give him all the kisses to make up for the ones he missed, okay?”

“Okay. I love you mommy.”

“I love you too, Jack.”

You stay there for a moment longer before picking up your phone and leaving the room. You leave Jack’s bedroom door wide open — yours too. You lift the phone up to your face, and Aaron sees you have tears gathered along your waterline. “Oh. I didn’t realise this was still on.” Aaron hears you laugh quietly, and you bring your voice down to a whisper, bringing your face closer to the phone screen as you say, “Aaron, he called me mom! Oh my god, I’m feeling so many things right now. Okay, wait, let me send-”

The video cuts off just then, and Aaron instantly drags his finger across the screen, setting the video back to the very beginning. He notices the time of the video sent on the screen that says '8:03 pm.' It it now 2:54am. He’s just about to press play again when he hears Derek’s teasing voice call out in the quiet jet. “Hey, what’s got you crying over there, boss man?”

Aaron takes out his earphones, shaking his head silently. Derek had passed behind Aaron just a few minutes ago to go to the bathroom, and the nosy man had taken a peek over Aaron’s shoulder to see what he was watching. Derek has good intentions, but of course, he’ll never pass the opportunity to tease. So he’s more surprised that anything when Aaron, unknowingly teary eyed, replies with “Jack called y/n ‘mom’.” Then, under his breath “God, I love my family.”

Aaron skips out on the pico de gallo and chicken nuggets when he gets home, beelining to Jack’s bedroom to press a kiss to his son’s forehead before finding you in his bed. He makes sure to be quiet when he strips out of his work clothes. Aaron doesn’t bother to throw on any pyjamas, sliding in next to you wearing only his boxers. He wraps his arms around you and tugs you close to his chest.

He decides just then that one day, Jack won’t be the only one calling you mom.

taglist: @dearlizzies, @tiaajosephin, @bxuzi, @rory-cakes, @dlljdhsh, @aouoo, @fandomhoe101, @selenewowww, @sharkers00, @joonbread

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation of Love.

Boyfriend!Hotch x Lawyer!reader

main masterlist

Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.

Words: 1,6k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of crime and serial killers. established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).

It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.

The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and, on this occasion, even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.

You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.

At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.

“What's going on here?”

The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.

“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.

Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.

“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.

For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”

Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.

“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.

“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him, you usually had a more relaxed side to him.

“Since when do you take cases like this?”

“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”

The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.

“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”

Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”

His brow furrowed again.

He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.

“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.

“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”

“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.

That was the man you know and love.

“Me too, it's my job.”

“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.

What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.

You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.

“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”

As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.

“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”

“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”

Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.

“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”

“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”

The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.

“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”

“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.

“Give me the evidence then, love.”

Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.

“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.

At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”

“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”

“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.

After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.

And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.

[tempobaekh]

texts with aaron hotchner and his younger unhinged girlfriend (part 1)

author's note: HI LOVIES!! omg i loveeee how much you guys loved the last post so I tried to find some time in the middle of work time and put together this. hope you guys love this. the mooboard is not for any specific appearance, so anyone can read:)

Note: gifs, pictures, dividers, and headers DOES NOT belong to me. only the moldboard. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[hotchscoffeecup]

stuck

summary: stuck inside an elevator with your boss, aaron hotchner, isn’t what you had in mind when you left work late. perhaps, you can get your supervisor to relax just a little. SFW

tags: minor blood, stuck inside an elevator

pairing: hotch x reader

word count: 3k

a late birthday fic for muffin <3

“Alright, goodnight Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Hotch, it’s late. I’m tired. It’s hotter than hell outside. Trust me, when I tell you that all I need is some late night takeout, a shower, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.” You let out a short laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

He nods in farewell; offering a tired, albeit, tight smile before parting ways and moving toward his SUV a few spots down from your sedan. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago, but Hotch had volunteered to stay behind and help you on your case report. Your skin bristles at the thought of the last 72 hours and you feel the tension pulling each one of your muscles as you reach into your purse and feel for your keys. After a few seconds of rifling around, your brow knits together when you don’t come across the key fob.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, your shoulders slump. “Dammit.”

“Everything okay?” Hotch asks, pausing after opening his car door.

You incline your head and wave a hand through the air. “Yeah, I just left my keys on my desk.”

A car door slams and the sound of Hotch’s footsteps echo as he moves towards you. “I’ll walk with you.”

You blow out a breath and wave him off. “No, go home. It’s just going to be a few extra minutes. Go see Jack.”

“He’s with his aunt until tomorrow evening, then hopefully I’ll get to spend the entire weekend with him before duty calls.” He gestures towards the elevator. “It’s no trouble, really,” he insists.

You can’t help but feel like a nuisance, but you don’t argue any further. A humid breeze blows through the parking garage and thunder rumbles off in the distance. Hotch presses the button to summon the elevator and as the gears rumble to life both of your cells start pinging.

Hotch reaches into his pants pocket as you reach into your purse. You both check your cells where a severe thunderstorm warning flashes across the screen.

“Hotch, really, you can go.”

Hotch arches a brow, sparing you a look that says not-a-chance as the doors open. “Come on, if the weather kicks up before we get back down, I’ll drive you home.”

He stretches an arm out to hold the door and you reluctantly step inside, accepting that he’s not going to leave.

You push the button for the ninth floor and cross your arms over your chest. “My car can handle a little rain, Hotch.”

He blows out a breath and shakes his head. “With the weather they’re calling for, your car will become a boat.”

“Careful, Hotch. That was almost a joke.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t reply.

The elevator pings as you ascend higher and higher. By the time the elevator crawls past floor four the sound of rain pounding against the building echoes inside the elevator.

“Damn,” you curse quietly. “I can only imagine what 95 is going to look like with this going on.”

“I’m sure it’ll—” A loud clap of thunder explodes outside, cutting Aaron off.

You startle, gasping loudly and feeling yourself immediately flush red with embarrassment. Your eyes flicker over to Hotch and he looks calm and collected, unshaken by the burst of sound.

Suddenly, the lights go out and the elevator screeches to a halt, throwing you off balance. You stumble as the elevator rocks violently and in your heels, you’re unable to catch yourself before you fall forward and hit your head against the wall; dropping your purse and scattering its contents in the process.

Pain splits your brow and your hand flies to your forehead. Blood, sticky and wet, trickles into your eye and you wince. The emergency lights kick on as you and Hotch both collect yourselves and stand.

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks.

“I hit my head.”

“Here, let me take a look.”

His hand curls under your arm as he uses the other to tilt your chin up. His eyes are hard in the dim red light.

“I can’t tell how deep it is in this lighting.” He presses his lips together and reaches for his cell. “Dammit!”

“Let me guess,” you say. “No signal.”

He snaps his phone shut. “None, what about you?”

“My entire life is on the floor right now,” you quip, gesturing at the ground.

“Right, sorry.” His eyes scan the ground and quickly locate your phone. He scoops it up and after flipping it open, he shakes his head with an exasperated sigh.

“Well,” you reply. “Guess we better make ourselves comfortable until the generators kick in.”

You kneel down and begin sweeping your belongings toward you. Hotch crouches and helps you without asking.

“Let’s at least see what you might have that I can use to help clean it up and stop the bleeding.”

“Oh yeah, let me just reach into my Mary Poppins bag here and pull out an EMT’s jump bag.”

He aims a hard look at you that he usually reserves for whenever Penelope makes a comment that teeters the line with HR.

“I’m the one with my head split open, I think I’m allowed to be sarcastic right now.”

Hotch breathes out sharply. “Split open, that’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Two zingers in a row, Hotch. I’m impressed.” He shakes his head but even in the dim lighting, you don’t miss the smile on his lips. He picks up a couple of items and hands them to you. “Here’s your,” he pauses to examine the items in his hand. “Lipstick and tampons.”

A furious heat races to your cheeks as you snatch them out of his hand and shove them in your purse.

“Wait, give me one of those. I can use it to stop the bleeding.”

“Hotch, I’m not giving you a tampon.”

He levels you with another hard stare and when he says your name, you can hear the amusement in his voice. “It’s either that or your sweater, and I know that was a gift from JJ on your birthday. Besides, I was married for a long time. I’m not embarrassed by tampons or pads. You know I keep a supply in my desk, right?”

Your brow pinches, but a smile plays about your face. “Ok, I’ll bite,” you say as you pass him one. “Why?”

He pauses before tearing open the packaging. “You wouldn’t happen to have any hand sanitizer in there, would you?”

It takes you seconds to find the mini Purell inside your handbag and pass it to him. He squeezes some into his hands and scrubs it over his skin. “One time, Penelope dropped a file off in my office. She was in a rush and not acting like herself. I could tell she was stressed.” He tears open the plastic and pushes the cotton portion of the tampon out of the applicator. “I asked her if she was okay and boy, was that the wrong question to ask.” Hotch turns his head, looking around. “Ah, thought I saw that.” He scoops your half finished water bottle off the ground and pours a small bit of water onto the cotton to break it up. After working it into a small square, he gently presses it against the split in your brow. You wince and he apologizes. “She burst into tears and told me that her cycle had snuck up out of nowhere and she was unprepared and needed to run to the drug store. I told her not to worry and that I’d go for her. I’d forgotten to ask what exactly she wanted me to get, so I bought a little of everything. She took what she needed and I told her that I’d keep the rest in the lower left drawer of my desk in case an emergency ever arose again.”

“Hotch, that’s actually really sweet.”

He feigns a pained look, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your use of the word actually cuts pretty deep, you know?” He lifts the makeshift bandage and inspects the injury. “It’s still bleeding. I’m afraid you might need stitches.”

You blow out a breath. “Great, and what do I tell them? Hey, I fell face first into an elevator panel. Patch me up!”

Hotch chuckles and applies more pressure to the wound. You hiss and again, he apologizes.

“It’s okay,” you say and realize this is probably the closest you’ve ever been to your supervisor. In fact, from this angle you notice just how long and thick his dark lashes are; the way his coffee colored eyes glimmer in the low lighting.

Holy shit, what are you thinking? That’s your boss you’re ogling.

“It’s hot.”

You blink out of your momentary stupor. “I’m sorry, what?”

“In here,” Aaron answers.

“Well yeah, the AC is out with the power. What do you think is taking the generators so long to kick in?”

Hotch’s brow furrows as his eyes flick about the space. “I’m not sure. It’s highly unusual though.”

You shrug out of your sweater and take over holding the makeshift bandage against your forehead, your fingers brushing against his hand as you do so. Bunching your sweater into a ball, you place it behind you and lie back.

Hotch laughs awkwardly. “What are you doing?”

“It seems like we’re going to be stuck here awhile, might as well make myself comfortable.”

He pushes himself to his feet and presses the emergency call button. You’re not shocked when the only response is static. You watch as he paces, pushing the button every few minutes.

“This is where Reid would say something like ‘the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.’”

Hotch tucks his hand against his belt and pushes his suit jacket back with his other fingers. It's a gesture you’re all too familiar with, the one he uses when he’s exasperated. He swipes at the perspiration beading on his forehead with his opposite sleeve.

“So, what, we just wait?”

A smirk pulls at your lips. This shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does, especially given the fact that you have a head injury and probably need to get checked out.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re so,” you hedge, searching for the word, “high strung.”

Hotch’s brow climbs toward his hairline. “Excuse me?”

Did you hit a nerve? It was a fairly bold statement to make. Situation be damned, he was still your boss. “I don’t know, Hotch.” You release a short laugh. “You can’t really be in control all the time, can you?”

“Doesn’t this team have an agreement to not profile each other?”

You roll your eyes and prop yourself up on an elbow, wincing as pain pulses behind your eye. Hotch’s lips part as he instinctively moves toward you and you wave him off. “It’s not about profiling, Hotch, look at you. Stop trying to solve everything all the time and just say ‘hey, this shit sucks!’”

He holds your eye for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“You’re right,” he says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drops onto the floor beside you. “This shit sucks.”

You smile and he returns one. It looks good on him. It’s something he doesn’t do often enough.

“Let me check your head.” He leans forward and you let him inspect the gash in your forehead. “I think the bleeding stopped.” Placing his palm against your jaw, he tilts your head toward the red emergency lights. “Everything looks,” his eyes glimmer and drop to linger on yours. “Fine.”

Your lips part, but you don’t find words. Has Hotch ever looked at you like this? Well, that implies he's looking at you a certain type of way. You clear your throat and Hotch drops his hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

The words are out of your mouth before you can think. “Are you?”

He says your name then, barely a whisper. He’s so close, close enough for you to smell his aftershave. You feel your heart rate begin to pick up, pulse pounding in your ears. Hotch’s chin dips and his lips are a hair's breadth away from yours. Before anything can happen, the elevator’s gears suddenly grind to life. The sudden jolt of movement causes your foreheads to bump together and you groan as pain splinters behind your eye.

Hotch immediately apologizes and holds your face in his hands, making sure the minor collision didn’t reopen the wound that had barely stopped bleeding as is.

Your hand reaches up to cup his against your cheek and you meet his concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Hotch.”

He holds your gaze for a moment before dipping his head. “Okay,” he says tightly. “Okay, let’s get you up. There’s a first aid kit in the break room.” He grabs hold of your forearm and loops an arm around your waist before helping you to your feet. You stumble as you rise to your full height, your blood not yet having the chance to properly circulate through your body.

Hotch’s grip tightens around your waist and you place a steadying head against his chest; fingers splayed against the muscular plane beneath the fabric of his dress shirt.

Only when the elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the 9th floor do you remember that it's your boss with his arm around you right now. You startle apart and laugh awkwardly.

“Here, let me—” His voice trails off as he drops to a crouching position and sweeps the remaining items of yours off the floor along with his jacket and your sweater.

You walk in semi-comfortable silence, letting Hotch lead the way to the break room. When you arrive, you let him pull out a chair for you and take a seat. He moves quickly, rummaging through cabinets until he locates the first aid kit. He sits opposite from you and opens the white box. After pulling on a pair of disposable gloves, he makes quick work of opening several gauze pads. He squeezes rubbing alcohol onto the gauze and apologizes in advance.

“It’s going to sting,” he cautions as he begins cleaning the area around the wound and the blood that had dripped down your cheek.

“I’m a big girl, Hotch. My dad cleaned my skinned knees when I was a kid.”

Hotch chuckles, and it rumbles low in his throat. “I certainly hope you don’t see me as your father.”

You nearly choke on your own spit and feel a furious heat blossom across your face. Hotch sees this and the smile stays plastered on his face. He presses the alcohol soaked cotton to the wound.

You hiss at the contact and dig your nails into your palms. “Fuck!” you curse, though it’s mixed with sharp laughter. “I don’t remember it stinging that much!”

Hotch laughs as he apologizes and works as quickly as he can to clean the affected area. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He finishes up and applies two butterfly bandages, which effectively close the gash. He discards the gloves and soiled gauze. After washing his hands, he uses a disinfectant wipe to sanitize the table and replaces the first aid kit in the cabinet.

“Efficient, as always.” You observe.

“I’ll have to fill out an incident report,” he says as he wipes his hands on his pants.

“Yeah, but that can wait until Monday.”

Hotch presses his lips together, not liking the sound of that.

“Oh, come on Aaron!”

His brow quirks. “Aaron? You never call me by my first name.”

You smile and gesture toward your forehead. “Head injury, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s nice,” he says, a dimple in his cheek on show as he smiles. His expression shifts immediately towards worry. “Though, you might actually have a mild concussion. We should probably get you to a doctor.”

You wave him off. “A doctor is just going to tell me to rest, take ibuprofen, don’t sleep the first night, et cetera, et cetera…Frankly, I’d rather avoid the bill.”

“There's a protocol for this…paper work, workers comp.”

You slap your hands against your thighs. “Fine!” you relent. “Let’s go!”

Hotch smiles, relief evident on his face. “I’ll grab the paperwork.” You scoop your sweater and purse into your arms as he dashes out of the break room.

As you make your way back toward the elevator, Hotch joins you. “Forgetting something?”

Your eyes widen and you feel like you could smack yourself. “My keys!”

Hotch tucks the manila envelope under his arm and fishes around in his pocket, withdrawing your key ring with a cheeky grin on his face. You quickly grab them out of his hand and shove them into your purse. “The whole reason I’m in this mess,” you grumble.

You slap the button to summon the elevator just as thunder crashes outside once more. You and Hotch exchange a look. “On second thought, why don’t we just take the stairs?”

“Good idea,” Hotch agrees.

As you descend the nine flights of stairs, you can’t help but think of the long night you’re about to be in for. When you reach the parking garage, you can smell the rain in the air. You press the button to unlock your car.

“What are you doing?” Hotch asks. “No way, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I’m going to be there all night.”

“Okay, so I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”

You freeze and Hotch does too. For a minute you just stand there holding each other’s gaze and in that moment, you both know something has fundamentally changed between the two of you. What that change is, neither of you can tell; but something in your gut tells you it’s a change for the better and you can’t wait to find out more.

[augustjoy]

Take A Seat.

A lil Blurb - Based on the following request: Please Aaron Hotchner x BAU! fem reader smut? like they are just lazily making out on the couch and things get hot? (Reader rides Hotch like her live depends on it and Hotch clingy for dear life while she does it)

Hotch x Fem Reader

Word count: 607

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, SMUT, porn with no plot. Let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron had just returned from a two-week long case, and you were feeling pretty needy. Jack had been spending the night with his aunt and you had never been more grateful for that fact. The second Aaron had walked through the door you had pounced on him.

That was nearly thirty minutes ago now. His go bag, shoes, and suit jacket long forgotten in the entryway.

Now, Aaron was sat on the couch with you straddling his lap. Your shirt had been tossed over somewhere near the coffee table and the buttons on Aarons had been pulled open in a heated frenzy.

He was sucking deep purple marks into the skin where your neck and shoulder met while you grind your hips down into his lap. A moan slipped past your lips as Aaron nipped at your skin. His gaze lifted to meet your own and if you looked anything like he did…you were both completely wrecked. Hair tousled, lips swollen, pupils dilated and dark with lust, desperate. You knew what he needed and even more so, you knew he was going to give into your desires before anything else. That’s the thing about Aaron…he was a giver.

“I need you.” You gasped as Aarons lips pressed into the top of your barely covered breasts.

“You have me sweetheart. Take whatever you need.” He mumbled, pulling the lace of your bra down to expose your peaked nipple.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when his teeth grazed over the sensitive nub. With shaking hands, you moved to pull at his belt, trying to free his achingly hard cock. It had been straining against his slacks, pressing hot against your core for the better half of the last half hour.

Aaron tapped your thigh, signaling you to stand momentarily to allow you both to rid yourself of the remaining clothing you had on. After a moment of tender hands assisting one another to undress, you made your way back to your previous positions.

As you lower yourself back into Aaron’s lap, he guides his cock into your waiting entrance.

“God your cock feels so good.” You groan into Aaron’s ear.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need.” Aaron praises as you find your rhythm.

--

The room was hot, salacious sounds of skin slapping against skin the only audio in the room. Your hands were white knuckled, holding the back of the couch as you bounced up and down on Aaron’s cock. His hands gripping your hips, supporting your movements. While his face pressed to your skin, moving from your neck to your breasts as you moved against him.

The sounds escaping both you and Aaron were pornographic, loud and uncontrolled as you both neared peak.

“Aaron baby I’m close!” You gasped.

“Cum for me sweet girl, let it go.” He instructed.

After a few more thrusts, you felt the band snap, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. All the while Aaron is now guiding your hips, chasing his own release. His hands wrapped around you in a bruising grip while his lips attach to your skin.

Sweat was cast over your skin, your hands were holding onto Aaron’s shoulders, you’re thankful for his grip on you as you are sure you’d have collapsed by now. His continued ministrations have sent another wave of pleasure to wash over you and the convulsions of your pussy finally sending him over the edge.

Aaron painted your walls with a grunt of pleasure, and as his breathing settled, he placed a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered.

“I missed you too sweetheart.”