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#Aaron Hotchner x Reader
ssahotchnerr · 2 days
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you see when you did a fic abt reader getting a lil clingy when she’s tired , can we pls have it w aaron instead. like they’re all on the jet and he just puts a hand on her knee or keeps on giving her forehead kisses every second, or even he gets so tired to the point he falls asleep w his head on her shoulder
sleep deprived
clingy aaron my beloved cw; bau!reader, fluff <3
After many years of practice, Aaron's rather proud of his resilience to remain awake and alert despite extreme fatigue.
Some cases called for either little or no sleep at all. Was it his favorite thing to do? No - it knocked his body completely off schedule, worsened with time spent on the West Coast. Had he been exhausted? Absolutely. But he could ignore the feeling well, working just as diligently as if he had gotten a full night's rest.
Frequent helpings of caffeine also assisted.
But when a case resolved and the urgency was dismissed - it was like a switch flipped in his brain. His mind and body knew before he could fully process it, and he felt it. Sleep deprived brain fog, a newly significant heaviness to his body, more irritable if certain buttons were pushed.
He couldn't wait to be home. He couldn't wait to be in the comfort of bed. He couldn't wait for you to be at his side, secure and close in sleep.
Each one of those thoughts correlated to each heavy step as he trudged up the jet's stairs, his eyes latching onto you immediately upon entry.
You were stationed at the kitchenette, head down as you prepared your favorite soothing, nighttime tea.
A wave of affection rippled through him; simply seeing you made him long for you desperately, although you were near and already his. The love he felt for you was unfathomable already, but in a sleep deprived state, it was enhanced greatly. He wanted - no, had to be as close as possible, to be entirely consumed by you.
After storing his go-bag, he swiftly (and slightly clumsily) moved behind you, hands finding your waist easily.
"Hey," you greeted, steeping your tea. Your voice was soft, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice.
"Hey," Aaron echoed in a mumble, his hands sliding forward from your hips to your abdomen. "How are you."
You hummed gently, leaning back to lightly touch your head to his, closing the tiny gap that separated the two of you. "Better now that we're going home."
With your back to his chest, you felt his agreeable chuckle shake through him.
"You want a cup?"
"No, I'm okay." Truthfully, he was certain he would fall asleep before the rim of the mug touched his lips. His head turned, pressing a long kiss to your temple, speaking into it, "Thank you though."
His lips lingered while you finished prepping your tea, adding light honey and lemon. With you in his arms, matching your evenly distributed breaths, Aaron's hold wasn't only to hold you, but to keep him standing upright. The lights on the jet had already been dimmed, as everyone settled down for the red eye flight, so that wasn't helping his tiredness either. He was just as comfortable as if he were in his bed at home.
You felt him nodding off. His arms - unknown to him, as he thought otherwise - were loosening, his figure even swaying the smallest amount. You hurried, knowing he probably wouldn't claim his seat without you at his side. And when you made your way over, Aaron followed like a lost puppy, his fingers grasping onto the back of your shirt.
Your blanket was already at your seat; after setting your tea aside, you draped it over your lap, offering half to Aaron. You even managed to pry him out of his suit jacket and tie.
His hand started out in yours, before finding home on your thigh - enjoying the comfort of contact. His fingers were splayed across the width, keeping you as close as the seats could awkwardly offer. Part of him considered persuading Reid from his usual spot, allowing the two of you a turn to lie down.
But it was Spencer's favorite spot, the rest of the team would never let him live down visibly 'cuddling', and he was too tired to move, so the regular seats would have to do.
His thumb began brushing against the fabric of your pants, the lull bringing him closer to sleep. He placed a kiss on your shoulder, then your jaw, before nestling his head on your shoulder.
A faint blush trickled onto your face, feeling warm from both the tea and the open tenderness. "Aaron?"
A very drowsy, "Hm?" came from below your ear.
You simply leaned your head against his, a contentful sigh leaving you. Under the blanket, your hand rest atop his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.
Aaron's eyes remained closed, but a sleepy smile made its way onto his face. In the smallest of whispers, "I love you too."
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natti-ice · 19 hours
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18+ mdni
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Being so horny all day at work so much to that you go to your boss, who just so happens to be your secret lover and ask him for some assistance. He immediately agrees and tells you to hop on his lap so he can help satisfy you. You feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he whispers “relax baby, I’ll make it all better.”
his hand finds it way into your soaked panties and immediately gets to work “gonna take such good care of this needy little pussy.” He whispers as he circles your sensitive and swollen clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you squirming in his lap.
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minswriting · 3 days
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Hey can you do one where the reader and Aaron is in the middle of having s*x and Aaron gets a phone call about a case he answers the phone while he is still inside of her
nsfw | mdni | aaron hotchner x reader
When you both had gotten home from a long and stressful case, Aaron didn’t hesitate to undress you and take you on your bed. Your legs were in the air, over his shoulders as he pounded into you. His cock was plunging in and out of you as a harsh and fast pace, fucking the stress out of the both of you. You had one hand gripping the sheets while the other gripped his forearm, holding onto Aaron for dear life.
Aaron grunted as he fucked you, closing his eyes in pleasure as he relished in the feeling of your wet and tight pussy wrapped around his cock. “God, you feel so good,” he said, placing a hand onto your right leg.
“Aaron,” you moaned out his name, “love your cock.”
“I know you do, baby,” he groaned, giving you a particularly harsh thrust before pulling out completely, causing you to whine from the loss of contact. “Turn over for me,” he said as he pulled away. You obeyed, moving yourself so that you were laying on your stomach with your ass in the air slightly. “Good girl,” Aaron stated as he grabbed your hips, inserting his cock inside of you before leaning over you so his chest was pressed against your back.
The both of you moaned in unison as he thrusted his cock inside of you. This new position allowed for more intimate contact and a deeper penetration. It has always been one of Aaron’s favorites. You let out a whine of pleasure as his cock went deeper inside of you. “Oh fuck,” you moaned out.
Aaron snapped his hips, picking up his pace quickly as he got into the rhythm of fucking you in this position. Your cunt was clenching around his cock and there was in no way that he was stopping now.
And then his phone began to ring, causing the both of you to groan in frustration.
“Damn it,” Aaron cursed into your ear. He stopped moving his hips, taking a moment to catch his breath before reaching over to grab his phone. His cock was still buried inside of you but remained unmoving. “Hotchner,” he said, answering the phone.
You couldn’t hear what the other person on the line was saying. You also didn’t care to hear it. However, it wasn’t rocket science to know that it was someone calling about a new case for the BAU to solve. As the person on the other line continued to speak, Aaron began moving his hips slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. You gasped before immediately covering your mouth with your hand.
“How many victims have there been?” Aaron asked the person on the phone, keeping his voice steady as if he wasn’t fucking you. He gave a particularly harsh thrust, causing you to whimper as you tried to choke back on your moans. “Send me the file and I’ll go over it in the morning with my team,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “Unfortunately, we cannot get on the case right this moment as we had just gotten back from another and haven’t slept in a few days. We’ll be able to work better in the morning,” he explained smoothly.
You began moving your hips in sync with Aaron’s, meeting his thrusts with your own. His cock continuously hit your g-spot, making you see stars. You purposefully clenched your walls around his cock. “Alright th-th-“ Aaron stuttered before clearing his throat. “Thank you for the information. I will brief the team in the morning and we will be there by noon,” he exclaimed. “Bye,” he ended the call, tossing his phone to the side.
He began moving his hips faster, gaining the speed that he had earlier. “Fuck,” he grunted as he gripped your hair, entangling his fingers. “You liked that didn’t you? Teasing me while I was on the phone like a little slut?” he said breathlessly into your ear.
You let out a pathetic moan, nodding your head. “Yes!” you said, closing your eyes in pleasure. “Oh fuck, so good,” you moaned.
As his cock pounded into you, it didn’t take long for the heat in your abdomen to build. And by the way Aaron’s hips were moving frantically, you could tell that he was close too. “Gonna cum inside your tight cunt,” he whispered shakily. “Can feel you’re close too, princess.”
And with a few harsh thrusts, you moaned loudly, clamping your walls around his cock as your thighs tried to close as well. You arched your back against Aaron, cumming hard on his cock. Aaron followed suit as your cunt milked him, filling you up with his cum as he groaned into your ear about how much he loves you and how good you feel.
When the both of you finished, Aaron pulled out, laying down next to you on the bed. You rolled onto your back, looking up at the ceiling as the two of you tried to catch your breath. And after a few minutes of silence, Aaron finally speaks.
“Looks like we’re going to Upstate New York tomorrow,” he sighed, looking over at you.
You looked back at him. “Well, I’ve always wanted to visit the Adirondacks,” you replied, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers.
“Mm,” Aaron said as he pulled his hand away from yours, moving to pull you close to him and hold you with both of his arms. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” you murmured back, resting your head on his shoulder.
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whore-for-marvel · 2 days
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AARON HOTCHNER COME INVESTIGATE THIS PUSSY
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hotchfiles · 2 days
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↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.
AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT
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pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K
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    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…
    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 
    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.
    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”
    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 
    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 
    “And you? Catholic?” 
    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 
    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 
    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 
    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 
    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 
    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 
    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 
    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 
    “So you believe it’s a man?” 
    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 
    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 
    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 
    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 
    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 
    “A very shameful execution.” 
    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.
    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.
    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.
    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.
    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.
    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.
    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 
    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.
    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 
    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.
    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”
    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.
    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 
    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 
    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.
    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.
    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”
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mariasont · 3 days
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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H
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a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be
i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
part one here! part two here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras
wc: 4.2k
Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.
Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.
You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.
You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.
But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.
With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"
You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.
"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.
You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.
"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."
"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."
You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.
After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.
"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."
Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."
"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."
That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.
"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"
Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.
"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."
Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.
"Thank you."
His phone went off. "Hotchner."
Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.
The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."
And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.
You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.
The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.
Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.
You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.
So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.
"Need help?"
"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.
"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."
The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."
"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"
A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.
"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."
Ew.
You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.
He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"
His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.
Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.
"That won't be necessary."
The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.
The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."
It really wasn't a question.
The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.
Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."
His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"
But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."
"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.
Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.
The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.
It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.
The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.
It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."
Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"
You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."
He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.
"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."
You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"
The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.
Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."
"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."
His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."
Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.
"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."
"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."
"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"
"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."
You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."
"Because last night—,"
"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."
A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"
"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."
"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"
You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."
"Well, yeah."
"Screw you, Hotch."
You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.
Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.
It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.
Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.
Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.
Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."
There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."
Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.
His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.
"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"
You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.
"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.
"So, you know what it's like, huh?"
Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.
"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.
You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.
"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.
"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"
You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.
"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"
Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."
"Oh yeah?"
You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."
"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."
You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."
"And why is that?"
"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You would."
He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.
His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.
Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.
His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"
You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.
"I need a verbal yes or no."
Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."
"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."
"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.
His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.
"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.
You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 
His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.
His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"
You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.
A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 
"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.
"Is that good, honey?"
Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.
The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 
A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 
"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."
"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."
You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.
"Since you asked so nicely."
He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.
"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."
His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 
"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.
"Yeah? Is that what you want?"
"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.
"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.
"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.
"That's it, baby, go ahead."
That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.
You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 
Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 
He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 
You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.
You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.
"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.
"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."
Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.
"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."
"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."
"Right."
He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 
You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.
taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord
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zvdvdlvr · 3 days
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Why’d You Have to Wait?
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🔥 - synopsis. You get kidnapped on a case. Aaron’s coping mechanism? Self isolation. But when you’re recovering, Aaron wonders if staying away from you is the right thing to do. Jack convinces him anyway. Are things too far gone for Aaron to fix?
🔥 - warnings. Non descriptive torture. Scars. Burns. Very vaguely described mental issues. Slow burn. Friends ro enemies to lovers? Sad hotch. Angst. No happy ending.
🔥 - author’s note. Doing a part two. Hopefully this doesnt flop :)
Aaron had dreams about it now. They were so vivid- lifelike and real. Every time he had them he woke up in a cold sweat, heaving in the bathroom as tears dripped slowly down his face.
He hadn’t gone to the hospital to see you. In fact, Aaron hadn’t seen you since the day you almost died. He rode in the ambulance, but tore himself away from the hospital as he watched the doctors wheel you into the operating room. Your blood had stained his hands, face, and arms for days. Every time the white spots danced in his vision after emptying the contents of his stomach, he swears he can still see the glossy red liquid drip off his fingers.
You were well like. Not only by the team but by Strauss. She had given the team the time off to help y/n recover: sit in her room after another surgery, cheer for her during physical therapy.
Jack loved having time to see his dad after school, but he knew something was wrong after consistently hearing him pad to the kitchen during the middle of the night.
Tonight was no different.
Jack sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. He blinked owlishly around the room and stood up. The little Hotchner slowly followed the light to the kitchen and saw his daddy lean over the sink. “Daddy?”
Aaron turned his head and tried to smile at Jack. Aaron knew he probably looked a mess. “Hey buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Before Aaron could set down set down his water cup, Jack crawled up the seat and watched his dad over the counter. “What’s wrong, daddy?”
“I just can’t sleep,” Aaron shrugged, facing Jack with his arms crossed. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
Jack looked at Aaron as if he had grown two heads. “You get up in the night a lot, daddy. And your eyes are red. You cough a lot too.“
Hotch wanted to laugh. Of course Jack knew something was wrong- he always knew. “Yeah. You’re right, kiddo.”
“You yell when you sleep sometimes too. What happened to y/n, daddy? She doesn’t come see me anymore.”
Aaron shuddered as he inhaled. Smart boy. “She got really hurt, buddy. It’s bad. I guess I just… get scared thinking about her getting hurt,” Aaron admits, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.
Jack nodded. “Can we go see her?”
“I- I don’t think we should. She’s still getting better.”
Jack furrowd his eyebrows and tilted his head. “But I miss her.”
“I do t- I bet she misses you, too, Jack, but I don’t know how she’s doing. She might still-“
Jack sighed. “But daddy, she’d be so happy to see me!”
Aaron sighed. As much as he selfishly wanted to see you, he couldn’t. He’d do something he wasn’t proud of- embarrass himself, ruin his reputation of being a mentally and emotionally tough boss, ruin your friendship… No. Aaron couldn’t go by himself, but Jack could go with him. Why hadn’t Aaron thought of it before?
“Okay,” Aaron relented. A smile tugged at his lips when Jack’s face lit up. He scrambled off his chair and collided into Aaron’s legs and squeezed.
“Can I sleep with you tonight, daddy? Aunt Jess always stays with me when I have a nightmare.”
Aaron bent down and picked Jack up and nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Let me brush my teeth again.”
Jack wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed, as big of a hug his little body could give.
— 🔥
The days were all a blur for you. Now that you were all fucked up, nothing felt right anymore. Second defree burns crawled up the calf of your left leg. Small cuts littered your entire body, scarring and twisting your skin. The worst part was the long, twisting scar that started on your cheek about two inches away from your ear and pulled down to your collarbone.
The unsub, Barney MacMillian, was a sadist. A stupid fucking sadist. He thought he was punishing you for hunting him when he kidnapped and tortured you.
You know the team tried- they really really did try- to cheer you up, to get you back. But the fact that you now considered yourself a monster and how you started to believe the things MacMillian had whispered in your ear as he tore you apart, layer by layer.
Derek genuinely thought your scar was badass, but learned not to bring it up. Penelope just kept rehashing everything- something you had eventually told her to atop doing. Prentiss was cautious, testing the waters. But she eventually got back into a rhythm with you as your best friend. JJ didn’t do anything wrong, she was just really nice- too nice? Spencer was… himself. And you couldn’t thank him enough for just staying him, recitinf facts about burns and scars, knives and blood loss. It was morbid, sure, but you were always close with him and the way his brain worked.
Rossi was the one that kept you together through it all, though. He had conversations with you, long past visiting hours. He talked with you about anything and everything and somehow knew exactly what you needed to hear or talk about. But he kept making excuses for Aaron.
Aaron. The romantic feelings you kept trying to flush away turned into hurt every time Rossi’s eyes flickered away from yours when you asked about him. But you knew now. He didn’t care. He never would. That’s why he didn’t show. It’s the only plausible explanation of why he wouldn’t show up, shoot you a text, something.
So you turned your hurt into anger and stopped asking, ignoring the way your heart would drop to your stomach and how the acid in your stomach churned eveey time you heard his name.
You already had your resignation documenta stored neatly in a magazine in the second table in the nightstand to your right. You were done with it all.
— 🔥
That’s why you felt tears prick in your eyes when you saw Jack Hotchner leap into the room. His little eyes scoured your face, eyes dragging down the healing skin on your face. You heard Aaron’s footfalls stop short at the door. Your jaw clenched and you stared at Jack, waiting for him to start crying and ask to leave.
But he didn’t. He just smiled and leapt into your arms, completely unaware of the physical pain in your leg and body. He just wrapped his arms and legs around you.
You sat still, eyes looking at Rossi, who smiled at you. You hadn’t yet looked at Aaron and didn’t even want to. Carefully you wrapped your arms around Jack’s back, ignoring how fast the tears left your eyes.
Jack pulled back and looked at you with a smile that faded the second he saw your tears. In all of your time (almost 10 years) at the BAU, Jack had only seen you cry once. And that was during a movie. 
“I thought coming to see you what make you happy,” he sad, voice sad. “Why are you crying?”
You smiled at him, sniffling pitifully. “I’m not sad, little J. I am really happy to see you,” you said. You hoped Aaron would hear the sharp undertone in your voice. Judging by Rossi’s huff of a laugh, he did.
“Oh! Well, I brought you stuff. I know you like the Black Widow because she’s really cool, so I brought you a coloring book,” Jack explained as he brandished his backpack full of stuff. You listensed intently, only looking up when Rossi got your attention and nodded to the door to signal him leaving.
Jack kept talking and you were overjoyed to listen. He was a pleasent little man, making your time more enjoyable. He opened up the coloring book he bought and started coloring after giving you a Beanie Baby he had that you mentioned you liked. He also got you a necklace- that Aaron no doubt spent a pretty penny for- that had your birthstone set in it. Jack watched you carefully as you opened it, and he put it on with his chubby fingers. You didn’t tell him that you would have to take it off soon after he left so it didn’t kill you when you slept. Hospital policy or something.
Soon after you finished your own coloring page featuring the Black Widow and Tony Stark making a hero landing, Jack turned on the T.V. and fell asleep.
“Hey,” Aaron said finally.
You nodded. “Hi boss.”
Aaron bit his lip. You stared forward, hand threading through Jack’s hair. Aaron felt his heart clenching in his chest. He didn’t know how you were gonna react when he came by, but he didn’t expect this- this silent treatment. He didn’t really blame you though. He wanted more than anything to make it up to you, to get you smiling again, but he knew the distance was probably better. For him at least.
“Y/n-“ Aaron started.”
You cut him off with. “Jack’s asleep, sir. It would be best not to wake him.”
Sir. You only called him sir if you were mad. Aaron swallowed. He knew he fucked up. Would he ever be able to fix his mistake, bring the old you back? He pondered the questions as he leaned back in his chair and watched the television show Jack chose before he fell asleep.
— 🔥
“Y/n is getting sent home today,” David’s voice crackled through the phone. “We wanted to take her out to dinner, something nice. Are you coming?”
Aaron sat at the kitchen table, checking over Jack’s homework. Jack himself was sitting a couple feet away on the couch. “Probably not. I have Jack.” 
Rossi scoffed on the other line. “She loves Jack and he loves her. Bring him with you.”
“I don’t know,” Aaron sighed. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. “Dave, she hates me.”
Silence. Rossi exhaled and shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, but you’re giving her a lot of reasons to. Clean yourself up and meet us all at the address Garcia’ll send you. 6:00. Be there, Aaron. If not for her…” he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. “Then for Jack.”
— 🔥
David convinced you all to wait until ordering.
But when 6:45 rolled around and Aaron didn’t show, you just clenched your jaw and ordered a neat whiskey.
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hotchs-big-hands · 1 day
Note
hotchs arm hair thats all
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Seeing how hairy he is legit is such a turn on and I’m not afraid to say it 😤😤😤😤😤😤
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headkiss · 21 hours
Note
hi babe could we get some domestic hotch just casually loving on reader 🥺<3 ily
hi baby you sure can!!! ily back <3 | 0.6k of fluff!
Aaron was always one for actions over words, and though you’ve said your ‘I love you’s and he’s constantly sweet to you, that remains true even today.
It’s present in the way he asks you to house sit for him every time he’s away on a longer case, even when he hasn’t got any plants to water or pets to feed, because he likes to have you there when he gets back.
And, because he knows you’ll be missing him the way he misses you, and that you feel closer to him when you sleep in his bed, but that you’d never ask to stay over when he’s gone for something you believe to be a silly reason.
This past week has been one of those instances, and Hotch has been sleeping a little better at night knowing that you’re at his house, where you fit in so seamlessly, like you’re meant to be there. Meanwhile, you’ve spent every second you can in one of his baggy t-shirts because they smell like him.
It’s late when he finally does come home, and he slips inside as quietly as possible, slipping his shoes off and gently setting down his keys before making his way to his bedroom. To you.
Hotch finds you in his bed, hair fanned against the white of his pillow, an arm stretched across onto his side of the bed as if you’d been reaching for him even in your sleep. His heart squeezes in his chest at the sight, and he can’t help but walk over to you and press a light kiss onto your head before going into the bathroom.
Aaron rushes through his routine, showering the travel day away as quickly as possible, slipping on a pair of boxers and brushing his teeth before flicking the light off and heading to bed.
He pulls the covers away from the corner, lifting your arm at the same time and slipping beneath it as he slips into the sheets beside you. Aaron places your arm over his stomach and smiles lightly at the weight of it.
Twisting onto his side, his hand reaches out like an instinct and brushes your hair out of your face, his knuckles trailing featherlight across the soft skin of your cheek.
You lean into the touch, your subconscious recognizing him, and your eyes squint open, still half asleep. Despite your sleepiness, you smile at the sight of his face pressed against his pillow and his hand on your cheek. “Aaron? You’re home?”
“Just got back,” he says, his voice low but soft, and you revel in the sound. “Didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart.”
“S’okay. I like knowing you’re safe.”
Aaron smiles at the word. Safe. Because he feels that way the most whenever he’s with you.
Your eyes slip shut again, sleep weighing your lids down, but his knuckles don’t pause their movements on your cheek, and you lean into it the way a cat nuzzles into someone’s palm when they’re being pet. Comfortable, happy, and silently asking for more.
“I like knowing you’re safe, too,” Hotch says, and he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead before laying back onto his pillow.
You both fall asleep the best you have since being apart.
The next morning, as you’re brushing your teeth side by side in Aaron’s bathroom, you feel a flare of warmth in your gut, a flutter in your stomach. You feel insanely lucky that you get to be the one to see him like this, his hair still messy from sleep, his torso still free of a shirt, his skin warm.
As his free hand brushes up and down your arm, you’re sure that there’s nothing so good as being loved by Aaron Hotchner.
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miley1442111 · 2 days
Text
nervous night- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (2k + words)
summary: you see your sister for the first time in a long ti8me, things don't go so well.
pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader
warnings: annoying family members, your sister is a narcissist, allusions to abuse, sad moments, aaron and reader shower together (not sexually)
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Nerves wracked your stomach. You hadn’t seen your sister in 4 years. Your sister was somewhat of a narcissist and practically made you her punching bag throughout childhood. She always had to be the centre of attention, always had to be pitied, and always had to be liked. It was exhausting. Now, you were a successful professor with a husband, a son, and a daughter. Aaron, Jack, and Ellie were the loves of your life, they were your favourite people on the planet. They had your back through everything, Aaron supported and loved you and your children were the most intelligent and polite kids on the earth. 
So, why were you so nervous for this dinner?
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When Aaron walked into the bathroom and saw the beautiful floor-length gown you had on for the evening, the flawlessly- applied makeup, and the beautiful way you had styled your hair, he was reminded of a fresh-out-of-the-academy you. Yes, you were younger than him, and yes, at the beginning he was named a ‘cradle-robber’ by the team but neither of you cared. You two were each other's everything. You had joined the BAU just after Haley’s death and Aaron and you grew close. It took about a year and a half before he made a move, since you didn’t want to take advantage of his fragile state. Since then, it’d had nothing but love between the two of you. A year of dating, marriage in Rossi’s backyard, and Ellie joining you only 9 months after the wedding. BUt when he first laid his eyes on you, he was sure you were an angel. You were so kind, so funny, so smart, so interesting. You were everything he wanted and more.
Years on, you were out of the BAU, a professor at a university nearby and Aaron had become a corporate lawyer.
“You look so beautiful,” Aaron smiled in the mirror as you fixed your earring. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 
“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you smiled at him. His cheeks warmed and his smile widened. 
“The kids are ready,” As he was speaking, Jack walked in with Ellie behind him, an undone tie around his neck. 
“Mom!” Ellie smiled in your direction. You smiled at your grown children. Jack was 19 now, Ellie was 11. Ellie and you were so close, just like you were close with Jack. You started tying Jack’s tie without question as Aaron scoffed from behind you and Jack just smiled at you.
“What are you scoffing about?” You gave Aaron a playful kick and he rested a hand on your shoulder, standing behind you.
“I already did Jack’s tie,” he explained. “But he undid it so you could do it.”
���Mom does your tie every morning!” Jack reminded him and Aaron smiled, rolling his eyes. 
“I suppose,” he sighed as he picked up Ellie. “Are you excited for dinner Ellie?” 
Ellie squealed, trying to get out of her father’s arms as he mercilessly tickled her. You and Jack laughed at their shenanigans and you smiled at your lovely life. You adored your family.
You finished up Jack’s tie and gave him a hug, moving to grab your things when Aaron grabbed your waist. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, right beside your ear and whispered. “You’ll do great, you’re incredible.”
Some of the weight on your chest lifted. 
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The dinner was in a very upscale restaurant, one Aaron had brought you to for your anniversary just a few months perviously. You sat nervously waiting on your sister as Aaron sat beside you, keeping the kids entertained with a story from your time in the BAU. As much as the BAU was a very traumatic time for the both of you, it was still an amazing part of your life. As Jack pretended to not know the ending and Ellie listened with bated breath, you smiled at your amazing family, a sense of immense pride radiating from you. 
Then they walked in. What you thought to be your sister, her dark hair the same but… everything different from what you’d remembered. She seemed tanner, different, more-expensive clothing on her, and clearly luxurious jewellery clung to her. Her husband, a short man called Pete with his signature pleasant smile on his face, and three children behind them, all staring down at phones. Your sister, Maeve sat opposite you, Pete opposite Aaron, Liam (her first born son) opposite Jack, Joey (her second child) opposite Ellie, and their youngest daughter, Elizabeth sitting in a seat beside her father. 
“Y/n! How are you?” She asked, her voice sickly sweet and far too loud for the atmospheric restaurant. 
“I’m good, how are you?” You smiled. Well, here goes nothing. 
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She was still a narcissistic bitch. Her husband was so conditioned to her bullying it seemed to roll off him, but it hit you deep. Aaron could tell how upset you were getting at her ‘not-so-subtle’ jabs at your life and choices that he decided to commandeer the situation and talk about something both him and Pete could talk about, their shared job, being a lawyer. 
Pete was a mildly successful lawyer and Aaron could tell his family lived well beyond their means, something he’d noticed since the beginning of the dinner. The children were all dressed well, she was dressed well, but Pete was in a second-hand, or old shirt. 
Benefits of being a profiler, I guess. 
“So, what do you like to do Jack?” Maeve asked your son, interrupting Aaron. 
“I like soccer,” He smiled, his manners were shining through and you couldn’t have been more proud. “What do you like to do?”
“Oh, he’s so cute,” Maeve chuckled like he wasn’t even there. “Liam plays soccer too, don’t you Liam?” She asked him, nudging him to look up from the phone his eyes were glued to. 
“What?- Oh, yeah. I scored 7 goals this season,” he smirked. Jack’s interest was piqued, he loved soccer. 
“Cool! What team do you play with?” Jack asked.
“I’m kind of between teams at the minute, what about you?” 
Jack was not one to show off, but he had gotten a scholarship to Stanford on his soccer talent and it was something he’d been extremely proud of since he’d started going there last fall. “Umm,” he mumbled for a second. “Stanford. I’m the captain of the Stanford team.” 
Maeve’s jaw dropped. Liam’s jaw dropped. 
“You’re the captain of the Stanford team?” Liam asked, shocked.
“Yeah,” Jack smiled. Liam chuckled.
“Congratulations man, that’s awesome,” Liam shook Jack’s hand in a friendly manner and you were happy Jack was being acknowledged by his cousins. 
“And what about you, little miss?” Maeve asked, brushing off your son’s talent. 
“I play tennis and I’m in a competitive dance team,” she smiled. “I love tennis though, I probably prefer it to dance.”
"Wow, how amazing!" Maeve's over-exaggerated enthusiasm showed something else, her jealousy.
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“So you’ve landed on your feet,” Maeve slurred. 
“I have,” you smiled as you watched your children chatting with their cousins in the garden, playing in the summer sunset. 
“The husband is pretty too,” she snorted, clearly far too drunk. “Might have to steal him.”
“There is no way you could steal me away from my wife,” Aaron phrased it like a joke, wrapping his arms around your waist, but everyone could tell it wasn’t.
Maeve fake-laughed as Pete smiled at the two of you.
“I can’t believe it, my baby-sister. You’re all grown up, taking care of a dead woman’s child and one of your own,” Maeve jabbed and you could feel your blood run cold. “I never thought you’d be a good mother, turns out I was right.”
“Pardon?” Aaron asked.
“I mean, yes, Jack is impressive but that was the work of your late wife, what’s her name again? Haley? And Y/n has Ellie in dance and tennis, I mean she clearly wants to give her daughter an eating disorder just like she had back in the day.”
Your heart dropped. You were so hurt by those words. 
“What the fuck did you just say to my mom?” Jack asked from the door to the backyard. Maeve had a triumphant smirk on her face. 
“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Maeve smirked. 
“Why do you always have to ruin stuff mom?!” Liam groaned. “They are actually cool and interesting people and you’re ruining our relationship with them because you’re jealous! Just give up!”
Shouting began. Maeve and Pete were shouting at Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth and they were shouting back. Ellie ran to you, burying her face in your side and you covered her ears. Jack settled himself beside you, letting you hug him close, his face in the crook of your neck. Jack and Ellie both hated shouting, they could not stand it. It reminded Jack of the day Haley died, and it reminded Ellie of a time you had gotten hurt on a case and been rushed to hospital, she had been with you when you were rushed to surgery and she could always remember the shouting of the doctors and nurses. 
“We’re leaving!” Pete demanded. 
“I fucking staying here, if Aaron and Y/n let me,” Liam shouted back. All shouting was silenced, and all eyes were on you two. You looked at Aaron and he nodded. 
“Of course you can stay here,” He assured his niece and nephews. “We’d be happy to have you.”
Pete and Maeve were deeply unhappy at that. 
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In the end, Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth stayed, Pete and Maeve practically disowning them and saying they would ‘drop their stuff off in the morning’. I mean, you had the extra space, you had three guest rooms in your house (one of Rossi’s houses you’d bought off him for a very substantial discount), and you truly did love them.
You tucked Ellie into bed and closed the door behind you, coming face to face with Liam.
“Thank you for letting us stay,” he said.
“Of course, we love you guys so much and you’re welcome here any time.”
“Thank you,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You could feel the small sobs wracking his body but you didn’t mention it, allowing him to cry into your neck.
“Do you want to go golfing with Jack and Aaron this weekend? You can offer it to Joey too. Ellie and I can take Elizabeth with us to get our nails done,” you offered, knowing they would probably be staying for a while. 
“That would be really nice,” he pulled away, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
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You knocked on Jack’s door, and he opened it immediately. 
“You alright?” You had barely got the question out before he wrapped you up in a bone-crushing hug. 
“I love you mom,” he stressed. “Thank you for letting them stay.”
You were kind of aware that Jack and Liam had been friends online in recent years, but clearly they knew each other better than you thought. 
“You two are close?” 
“He’s been telling me a bit about life with his parents and… it’s not good.”
You nodded, understanding what he meant. After sitting with him for some time, you wished him sweet dreams and moved to your own bedroom, exhaustion pulling at your eyes. 
You heard the shower running, knowing it was Aaron, you removed your makeup and clothes, then joined him. 
“Hi honey,” he smiled sympathetically. “How are you doing?”
“I’m here,” you yawned as his hands gripped your waist. “Looks like they’ll be staying for a while.”
“Should I look into papers?” he asked, grabbing some shampoo and softly running it through your hair. 
“Not yet,” you mumbled, allowing your eyes to close as he took care of you. 
“You looked so beautiful tonight,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up your neck. 
“Thank you,” you smiled sleepily. “You looked very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he chuckled.
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After finishing up in the shower, Aaron escorted you straight to your bed, where he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you silly, whispering words of encouragement and thanks for your strength. 
"And how do you feel about it?" he asked after a few minutes.
"Like shit, I feel terrible for them, and then of course, everything she said to me-"
"You're an amazing person, and mother. Don't listen to people who don't know anything about you anymore. The only contact you two have had in the past few years is through social media. She barely knows who you are, so her opinion doesn't matter," He assured you, pressing small kisses along your collarbone.
"Then who's opinion matters?" You smiled back.
"Mine, and I think that you're the most incredible," a kiss. "intelligent," another kiss. "sexy," another kiss. "beautiful," another kiss. "deserving of love and praise," a kiss to your lips. "Human being on the planet."
The chuckle as he continued his kisses and soft words and fell asleep quickly. He watched you for a moment, appreciating your beauty.
You were perfect. 
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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golden1u5t · 19 hours
Text
rough me up | a.h x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary:  whilst in the middle of having sex with aaron you blurt out the one thing that's been on your mind for weeks: you want him to be rougher with you. though he doesn't know how to react because of all the things he's seen in his line of work.
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"choke me."
those two words caused aaron's world to stop, his eyebrows furrowed as he sat up and stopped the movement of his hips. you opened your eyes to see him staring down at you. scared that you may have upset him, you quickly opened your mouth to speak but aaron beat you to it.
"why would you want that?" he questioned, reaching up and cupping your jaw. you realized that you and aaron hadn't yet had the discussion of kinks and things you liked in bed, you usually stuck with basic sex.
he knows you've seen what happens in his line of work, the pictures of the brutality against women, and he couldn't figure out why you would want him to do something like that to you.
"i- uhm- it's something i like but you don't have to. it's not everyone's thing." you looked to the side to avoid his gaze, you knew that aaron was a gentle man so you weren't sure how he would react. aaron turned your head back to face him.
aaron has always been about giving you pleasure in moments like this, he always wanted to do anything that would make you feel good. so, he let out a shaky breath and pushed all the bad thoughts he had about this to the back of his mind.
"if- if that's what you want." he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, his gently pushed his hips forward and tentatively placed his hand around your throat.
it took a while for aaron to be confident in choking you but once he didn't, he figured out that not only was it enjoyable for you but it was enjoyable for him as well.
you would definitely be having that talk soon.
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darlingsfandom · 2 days
Note
could i request thomas gibson / aaron hotchner begging you to pull over so he could pee and you sucking him off instead? (feel free to ignore if this is outside of what you write sorry)
This is my wheelhouse friend 🩷
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TW: smut, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, slight fingering and swearing.
“And why me?” You asked crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the SUV.
“Because you LOVE us!” Prentiss smiled at you as she grabbed your shoulders and made her look at you. She gave you the puppy dog eyes and man did it work! She’s your best friend, how can you say no?
“Plus Hotch is less cranky when he’s with you, which means long road trip back with you and he’ll be complete sunshine!” JJ added as she grabbed her bag from the desk.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” You threw your hands in the air. The team gave you a group hug. It’s not that you didn’t want alone time with Aaron, it was more of how long could you keep your hands to yourself. You just spent the last three nights sharing a small motel room with him since there weren’t enough rooms, (part of why you didn’t care for small towns), and it was torture because he was there, right there to touch , to feel! But you didn’t. You wanted him so bad it made you look stupid.
“Hotch! You’re with Y/N in the SUV! We know you’re not supposed to be flying with your busted ear right now .” Prentiss pulled you from your daze as Aaron stood there with a look on his face that you couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or happy.
“I can drive by myself.” His words stabbed you in the gut.
“No you can’t, what if something happens to you!” You blurted out. “Besides it was either me or Reid!”
“Hey! I’m not a bad road trip buddy.” Reid frowned at you .
“I know you’re not honey, but Hotch can be.” Your words struck into Hotch like a knife as he furrowed his eyebrows together.
“Great! We’re all settled on that! we’ll see each other back at the office soon!” JJ spoke up as the team climbed into a different car to head to the Jet. You stood there with Hotch in the parking glaring at each other before you rolled your eyes and got in the car. Hotch followed behind and didn’t speak a word to you for the first forty five minutes of the drive.
“Okay let’s clear the air…” you spoke up making Hotch look at you slightly as he continued to drive down the dark road. “Clearly there’s a tension between us and it’s not okay with me.” Hotch nodded in agreement. “Correct me if I’m wrong , but it’s a sexual tension.” Hotch didn’t say a word. He continued on for another five miles before he pulled off to the side.
“You think ? Or you know?” He asked leaning back in the drivers seat. You chewed on your bottom lip a little bit as he ran his hands over his face before getting out of the car. You watched for a second before following him.
“Are you just going to leave me like that?” You asked as Aaron stood with his back turned to you.
“Y/N, I have to pee so unless you’re going to watch, I suggest you get back in the SUV and wa—- what are you doing?”
You stood in front of Aaron with a devilish grin on your lips.
“No one has to know Hotch.” You were down on your knees in front of him. Your knees digging into the soft ground as he stood there with a look of shock on his face. “Don’t be shy with me. We did just spend three nights sleeping in the same bed, you’ve seen me naked , granted that was an accident ! But as you just asked… I KNOW! There’s a sexual tension between us.” You purred softly while stroking his thigh. Aaron swallowed the lump in his throat before he grabbed your hand and placed it on his cock.
“WOW!” You whispered as you felt his cock twitch in your hand. You moved back a little and let Hotch relieve himself. He let out a little groan when you squeezed him. Before Hotch could say another word, the tip of his cock was between your lips.
“Fuck! Y/N! Smart and knows how to please a man? Good girl.” Hotch ran his fingers through your hair gently. You sucked gently on the tip watching his face twist in pleasure. There is no way to explain to anyone why you two were going to be late but this was worth it. Hotch held your head in his soft hands while slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your throat resisted at first making you gag around him but eventually your gag reflex faded and Hotch made it further down your throat. Your eyes were full of tears , make up running, drool hanging from your chin and rubbing against his balls. You looked like heaven to Aaron.
“Fuck! You’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” Aaron praised you as you sat there being face fucked on the side of the open road. Anyone could drive by see what a whore you were being for him. Aaron pulled away and a loud gasp left your lips. You looked up at him before he helped you up, he leaned in and kissed you softly while you reached between your bodies and rubbed his erection.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m going to fuck you!” He whispered against your lips before turning you around, yanking down your skirt and pushing you against the side of the SUV like you weighed nothing. Aaron lined the head of his cock against your wet folds and slowly pushed in.
“AARON!” You cried out as he stretched you out. Even with how soaked you were it was a little bit of a burn. Your hands gripped his shoulders while his hands gripped your hips.
“Such a tight pussy sweetheart and it’s MINE!” He growled into your ear. He was right! It had been his for awhile, you had longed for Aaron since you started at the BAU, but you never wanted to cross that line until recently.
“Fuck yes, I’m all yours! It’s your pussy!” Your voice was tiny and shaky as Aaron thrusted up into you. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist making his cock go deeper inside of your warm tight pussy.
“Yes it is! Who owns your pussy honey? Tell me! Who OWNS YOUR PUSSY?” He said with each snap of his hips getting harder .
“AARON FUCK! YOU OWN MY PUSSY!” Your words were a hot babbling mess as you held onto him for dear life. Aaron was bouncing you on his cock now making sure to watch your tits move along with each movement. Your body was shaking, on fire and overwhelmed. It was a high you’ve never felt. You enjoyed every second of Aaron using you . His thrust were getting sloppy, his pace was slowing down and his eyes were getting heavy.
“Oh Y/N! Fuck! I’m gonna cum! Y/N! FUCK!” Aaron moaned into your ear as his cum shot inside of you coating your insides. You could feel it wanting to drip out of you but it couldn’t go anywhere with his cock still buried inside of you. “Oh don’t think I’m done with you.” He whispered breathlessly. His fingers slid between your bodies and he found your swollen clit. Aaron waisted no time in rubbing it in fast circles making you whimper below him like a pathetic slut.
“Fuck right there! Yes Aaron ! Yes fuck!” Your thighs were shaking, your eyes went to close but Aaron used his free hand to squeeze your face to make you look him in the eye as your orgasm hit you hard. Your mouth hung open as his name escaped your lips. Both of you smiled at each other as the two of you slowly peeled away from each other and cleaned up.
“You know … the teams going to know right?” Aaron questioned you as the two of you were back on the road.
“Of course , but that doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t ?” He chuckled.
“Nope! We just gave them what they already knew!”
“You mean to tell me the whole team knew I liked you?”
“Well actually it’s the other way around… son of a bitch! “ you slapped your sore thighs.
“What?”
“They set it up so we’d have to be together.”
Hotch licked his lips before reaching over to squeeze your thighs. “Well I’m glad they did because I got my alone time with you and that’s what I’ve needed.”
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anothermansjeans · 19 hours
Text
Closer
a.h x f!reader
cw: some slight angst (blink and you miss it)
wc: 1k
prompts
a/n: hiiiii!!! this is based on this request! sorry for taking a bit, i've been swamped with homework. i have one more in my inbox but im still taking requests! you can uses any of the prompt lists linked or just send me any request you have!
++
Hotch had a problem. He didn't necessarily want this problem, but he also didn't want to fight it. He had started to develop feelings for his coworker– who is also his subordinate– Y/N.
It started pretty recently. The team got back from a case and he told Jessica he would need her to watch Jack for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, that couldn't work for her, so he asked if she could talk to the babysitting agency and get someone in before she left. All was well when he last heard from her, and he was told that if they can't get someone out, they'll call him.
That’s why when his personal phone rang, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering “this is the one time I’m wishing they’re calling about my car’s extended warranty.” Alas, he picked up the phone and saw it was the agency he used, and they couldn't get anyone out this late in his area. He was so frustrated, he wanted to cry, which was more common than not recently.
After hanging up, he was so lost in his head, preparing to head out and take his work home with him (he never liked doing this, too scared Jack may see something he shouldn't). He didn't realize his door was opened the entire time, and he certainly didn't realize that Y/N had popped her head in with a mildly concerned look on her face.
“Hey, I was just heading out… are you okay?”
He jumped the tiniest bit, and looked up at her. “Uh, yeah. I’m actually leaving too.” He stood up and grabbed the pile of files in his desk, preparing to shove them in his briefcase, when he looked up for a millisecond to see the confused look on her face. “Jessica can't watch Jack for the rest of the night and there are no babysitters available this late of notice. I have to bring work home.”
Hotch didn't know what to expect from his oversharing, but it definitely wasn't the next words out of Y/N’s mouth. “I can watch him!” He looked at her. She looked at him. Y/N suddenly laughed to herself and shook her head. “Sorry, I meant to say if you need me to, since I’m already heading out, I can watch him until you're finished up here. I know how you feel about bringing those files home.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”
“You're not asking!” She promptly cut him off. “Trust me, Hotch, I want to do this for you. The sooner you say okay, the sooner I can go relieve Jessica.”
He numbly nodded, putting his briefcase on his desk. “Yes, thank you. I owe you for this. I’ll let Jessica know and I promise I won't be too long so that you can enjoy the rest of your night.”
And it was that simple of a solution. He did his work, you watched Jack, and when he got home, he was able to witness you putting his kid to bed. It was sweet (beyond sweet, really), and since then, whenever the team got back from a case and he needed extra help with Jack, Y/N would volunteer without being prompted. He loved seeing the little moments Y/N had with Jack, so much so that he would sometimes come home a little early (he could survive the extra work on a night Jessica was babysitting) and offer to have Y/N stay for dinner, which turned into bedtime for Jack, and then a little wine after he was asleep.
He didn't know when the feelings began to develop exactly, but once he noticed the excitement of going home to not only Jack but also Y/N, well he wanted to put a little bit of space between them. He wishes it was a gradual thing– really, he does– but he kind of just started declining her offers, making sure to book a babysitter hours (sometimes days) prior so that there were no issues with someone watching Jack. He hadn't taken into account what Y/N would be feeling about this shift, and he wasn't sure why he was so surprised when she marched into his office after a case; a time where they would normally arrange for her to watch Jack.
“Did I do something? Did I hurt Jack, or offend you, or literally anything wrong?”
“Excuse me?” His head whipped up from the papers under him.
“We had a routine. Something happened to disrupt the routine. I just need to know what I did wrong.” She looked sad. That was something Hotch didn't see on her often.
“You didn't do anything wrong.” He placed his pen down and stood up, closing his office door and standing in front of Y/N. “I have this problem.” He didn't know how else to state it, but he had to say something now or she’d think that his problems are her fault (and he would say a hundred times over that this was never her fault). “I don’t want to feel things for you but at the same I have this need to be near you 24/7.”
Eyes wide and deep breaths, the only thing Y/N could utter out was “what?”
Hesitating, Hotch stepped a little closer. “After seeing you with Jack and spending more time with you I…” he scoffed and shook his head “this is so juvenile.”
“Keep going, please.” Her response was quick. She needed him to finish.
“I want to be near you all of the time and I got scared of that– we work together, I’m your unit chief, I shouldn't be feeling things the way I do so I just… I pulled away.”
The silence was suffocating for the minute Y/N took to digest all that was said, but after what felt like years to Hotch, he felt her hand tentatively touch his, gently raking her nails down his palm before interlocking their fingers. “You don't have to… pull away.” The shy look was turning into one of awe. “We can… be around each other more often. See what happens. If you want.”
Maybe Hotch didn't have a problem. He felt a warmth spread through his body at the mere thought of being closer to Y/N, to seeing what happens with them, to a future. He definitely didn't have a problem.
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alicewritez · 22 hours
Text
Always There - Aaron Hotchner
word count: 988
summary: after an unsub comes after you and breaks into your home, you’re beyond scared. but Hotch is always there to keep you safe and remind you that you’re not alone.
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
authors note: mentions of a break in, a little panic but nothing too intense. also, feel free to give me some characters and/or any plot ideas you may have or would like me to write. i’m also considering writing some Spencer x Reader - what do you all think?? hope you enjoy reading! x 💞
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Hotch walks through your empty apartment slowly, having just got back from chasing off the team's current unsub after he tried coming after you, thinking you'd be home alone.
He doesn't find you until he hears your soft panting, both of you turning to each other at the same time, only to find yourselves pointing your guns at each other. He can tell how scared you are, thinking he's the unsub he quickly puts his hands up, showing you he's not going to cause you harm. He was safe; he could be trusted.
"Y/N, hey, it's me! It's just me.."
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry.." you rush out, slowly lowering the gun with shaky hands.
He steps forward as you lower the gun, reaching out to take the gun from you gently. "I know.. I know.. it's okay.." he says softly, taking the gun from your grasp as he sees you relax and little more, your grip on the gun becoming loose.
"It's over." He moves forward, wrapping you in his arms, knowing that you needed him right now, knowing this is when he needed to be strong for you and to comfort you.
You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest, taking shaky breaths.
He holds you tightly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion as he speaks softly into your ear in the same gentle tone he would use when comforting Jack. "You're doing great.. you're safe now. I don't want you to feel scared anymore.
He continues to hold you, speaking softly as he rocks you back and forth slightly, his arms around you tight. With the way he's holding you, it looks as though he wasn't planning on letting you go until he knew you felt completely safe.
You squeeze him tight, trying to ground yourself and tell yourself that you weren't in danger anymore - you were never in danger when Aaron was around.
He squeezes you back as you hold onto him tighter, running his hand up and down your back, still speaking softly and whispering comforting words into your ear. “Hey.. it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not gonna let you go. I’m here.”
He pauses and then speaks more softly. “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. Ever.”
“I’m so glad you’re here..” you mumble into his chest, eyes closed as you breathe in his scent. He nuzzled his head gently against yours, and his voice is soft when he replies, his hands still on your back as you hold each other tightly.
“Me too.” He pauses, leaning his head back slightly from yours so he can look at you more clearly. “Why don’t we get you to bed now? I think it’d be better if you got some sleep rather than stay up any later.”
You sigh. “Okay.. but please don’t leave.. I don’t want to be alone.” You cling onto him, your hands gripping his shirt as if he was going to disappear.
He smiles when you cling onto his shirt, taking one of his hands that was rested on your back and bringing it up to run through your hair in the hopes that it would help to calm you down. “I was never going to leave you,” he starts softly. “I’m staying right here. Until you’re asleep, I’m not going anywhere.”
“No you can’t leave me when I’m asleep,” you panic, “please just stay.. I won’t feel safe unless you’re here.” You grip his shirt tighter, your eyes round in fear as you looked up at him.
His voice is even more tender as he replies, not budging on his words - he’s not going to leave. You’re not going to be alone. His arms tightened around you as he spoke. “I’m not leaving. I won’t leave you.. now we’re going to bed.”
He picks you up, not even bothering to wait for a response or any words of protest, as he walks with you in his arms towards your bedroom. In response, you bury your head in the crook of his neck, mumbling, “I love you, Aaron.”
He smiles, kissing the top of your head as he made his way into the bedroom, you still in his arms, closing the door and moving towards the bed. “I love you too.. and I promise, no one will ever hurt you with me here.”
He lays you down on the bed, crawling onto it to lay down beside you and take you into his arms, pulling you close to him, your body tucked right against his. “Sleep now.. I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.” You close your eyes as you bury yourself further into his chest, “When I wake up you better still be here..”
He laughs softly as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. He’s keeping you in his arms; he doesn’t want you to be afraid or alone. “I will. You’ll wake up and I’ll be right where I am now. I’m not going anywhere. But you need to sleep.” He kisses the top of your head, wrapping you in his arms.
“Close your eyes okay? Sleep.. you’ll be safe, I promise.” Not long after, you fall asleep against him, the warmth emanating from him making your drowsy. He smiles as he watches you fall asleep peacefully, thankful that you’re no longer in danger or in a state of panic.
As you both lay there, Aaron feels you wrap your arms around him, smiling as you do, pulling you even closer to him as he lays there, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close to his chest. He doesn’t move from his position as you sleep peacefully, not wanting to disrupt the safety and peace you’re currently feeling as you sleep.
And while the safety and peace wasn’t always a certain, there was one thing that surely was:
Aaron would always be there.
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https://carrie-357.ftgae.xyz/r/PpZ4ij6
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